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lemonlushff-iy · 4 years ago

Note

(Lostinfantasyworlds here!)

I’d love to hear more about Mad Scientist please!! 🥰👀

AHHHHHH THANKS FOR ASKING @taryn-artistic-optimism 🥰 🥰 🥰

This was inspired by @clearwillow and Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde and COVID. Because most things in my life are inspired by @clearwillow. Specifically Strange...which everyone should TOTALLY check out! With her permission though, I followed the urge for an evening to see what happened.

I started this...I think last year. I can’t recall anymore because...what is time?? Anyways! It’s a modern take on the classic... And...Here’s the first highly unedited chapter. Sometimes I need to just...write the first chapter so I can refocus on the babies that are already “out”.

List of WIPs HERE

“Your request to move forward with human trials has been denied.”

“Denied.”

Denied.

The word swirled around his brain like the steam in the shower, flooding his senses and clogging his brain. It kept repeating itself over and over and over and over again…He was sick of it. This wasn’t the first time. Hell, it wasn’t even the second.

No.

This was the third time, and he was running out of funding...but what the hell was he supposed to do? He wasn’t approved to take his project to the next level! And it was absurd! They needed to begin testing immediately.

They just…

They had to.

Inuyasha closed his eyes, allowing the nearly scalding water to run down his body as the spray of the shower coated his flesh. He liked it hot. He hoped it would wash the feeling of failure from him.

Denied.

Bunch of pricks. The whole lot of them.

He turned the knobs, the metal squeaking as he stopped the flow of water from the head above, and wrang the excess out of his long black hair. He watched it pour to the tile below his feet as he opened the glass door, grabbing the towel on the hook just outside the shower.

Denied.

Maybe...maybe he shouldn’t try a fourth time. Maybe he needed to refocus his attention. Give up the lab and start teaching.

What was the saying?

Those who can’t do, teach?

He didn’t feel like he could do, that was for certain.

He sighed, stepping out of the shower and smoothing a hand across the glass of the mirror above the sink.

Denied.

Sunken, taupe eyes stared hollowly back at him. Frown lines marred his forehead. Stress was etched across his face. A face that should be more vibrant. Excited. Determined. It sure as hell used to be. What had happened to him?

Denied.

He smiled sullenly at the face in the mirror, and the expression was returned to him.

Denied.

He should update his resume. Start applying for teaching jobs. He was a waste. All those years of schooling...all those years in the lab...What was it even for? He had nothing to show for it.

He closed his eyes and the image of his lab partner floated past his mind’s eye.

Kagome Higurashi. Smart. Funny. Sexy. Completely out of his league, and yet inexplicably single. He just didn’t get it. The woman was perfect. More than perfect. She was…

If Goddesses were real, she may as well be one.

She was the reason he got out of bed in the morning. Her unflinching determination to get the serum to work. Her unshakable confidence. Her and...Well...The obvious.

He ran his hand down face, trying to not think of his mother right now. He had been dodging her calls all day. Which, with as perceptive as she was, meant that she already knew.

Denied.

His hand fell to the edge of the sink and he gripped it between his fists, his knuckles turning white. What was he going to tell her? He’d been so sure that they would be approved. He’d been ready to spend the night with Kagome at a sushi place eating dragon rolls and throwing back sake. Now he was...sullenly eating take out and trying to swallow his egg rolls around a thick throat.

Denied.

He was a failure.

He couldn’t get their approval and now because of it, his mother…

Denied.

He wasn’t ready.

He wasn’t ready!

Denied.

He didn’t know what else they could do! Kagome had suggested morphing the protein a little more. Just a bit more, and they would be good to go. They could proceed with the H4NY0U drug, and then they could…

He pinched his eyes shut - his breath hitching in his throat.

That wasn’t going to happen because he was a fucking failure. He didn’t care what she said. They’d never move forward with it. And it was because the head of the board had a grudge against him.

____. Fucking asswhipe. He’d hated them since the first grade. How he’d gotten to be the head, he’d never understand. He wasn’t smart. Wasn’t talented. He suspected that the only reason he was interested in this particular project was because of Kagome.

Sweet, beautiful, smart Kagome…

He sighed and backed away from the sink, pulling the towel from around his waist and rubbing his hair in it.

Denied.

He tossed it to the floor as he heard the vibrating of his phone from the other side of the room. When he got to it, he saw the litany of missed calls, including this one. All were from his mother, and Kagome. He couldn’t bring himself to call either of them though. He couldn’t handle the disappointment in his mother’s weak voice...or the overly enthusiastic optimism from Kagome.

He just couldn’t handle that right now.

Denied.

His phone clamored down to the top of his night stand, breaking the otherwise crypt like silence in his bedroom.

He believed in what he was doing with Kagome. So much. He believed in their mission. In what the H4NY0U serum could do for the weak. Those dying from Y0UK4I virus. Those like…

His mother.

He pinched his eyes shut and rubbed his fingers in the corners of his eyes, trying to dispel the negative thoughts, but it wasn’t working. He was spiraling again. Thoughts of “how could he let her down” and “failure” were flooding his mind and his chest. He could feel the painful throbbing of his heart with every beat as he tried to pull himself out of it but it was just getting worse.

He was killing his mother by not being able to convince them to move forward.

Denied.

She would be dead within the year.

Denied.

He had promised her he’d help her.

Denied.

Was this helping her?

Denied.

Was failure helping her?

Denied.

No. It wasn’t.

Denied.

He was killing her. Just like the Y0UK4I virus.

Denied.

But there was nothing wrong with the serum!

Denied.

He believed that! He believed that to his very core!

Denied.

Hell, he’d take it if he could!

Denied.

He would!

Denied.

He’d march right into that lab…

Denied.

Pick up a bottle…

Denied.

And give himself a dose.

Denied.

His face went slack as the idea permeated his being. Take the serum himself.

Take it. Himself.

He hadn’t considered that before. It’d never really occurred to him to use himself as the test subject. But...Why the hell not? No, he didn’t have the Y0UK4I virus...but...also...The serum did so much more than cure it. So why couldn’t he take it? Why couldn’t he get stronger? Why couldn’t he improve his overall health with it?

Denied.

That was just a word. That wasn’t his fate. He wasn’t going to let that lone word control himself, or his destiny, or Kagome’s, or his mother’s.

Denied.

No. He wasn’t going to let that stop him. He believed in their work. Believed in the serum.

Denied?

No.

Accepted.

***

The glass doors of the lab closed nearly silently behind him as he entered. It might have been nearing midnight, but so what? He wasn’t giving himself a chance to second guess this. He believed in this. In them. This was how he was going to prove it.

Inuyasha set up his cell phone on top of the desk, turning it on to record.

“Day 0 of the H4NY0U trial,” he began, looking at his visage in the glass screen of his cell phone. “Doctor Kagome Higurashi and I were once again denied moving into clinical trials of our serum. Something that I, strongly believe, is a mistake. I’m not going to wait for the board to continue to deny us our research though,” he explained, noticing the tick in his left jaw muscle from clenching it so hard.

“I’m going to volunteer myself as a willing subject, just as Alexander Fleming did when he discovered penicillin. I believe just that strongly in the H4NY0U serum. I’m of sound mind, and perfect health. There are no blemishes or rashes on my skin. I’m not currently experiencing any aches or pains. I’m going to move forward with injecting the serum into my right forearm, as I am right handed.”

He quickly stood from the desk and opened the refrigerator in the back, grabbing a syringe and alcohol swab as he returned to his place in front of the camera. He held the materials out in front of the camera, making sure it focused on the serial number on the bottle before he read it aloud.

Inuyasha glanced down at the camera, giving it a small smile as he removed the syringe from it’s plastic packaging, sticking the tip of the needle into the top of the bottle. He read out the exact amount he was drawing, and took an alcohol pad to wipe down and cleanse a part of his skin.

“This is for you, Ma,” he muttered as he placed the tip of the needle on his skin, closing his eyes.

He wasn’t going to turn back.

He couldn’t.

He couldn’t let her die. Couldn’t let years of research be for nothing.

He pressed the down on the plunger, and felt the cold liquid shoot into his veins.

It was done.

***

��What do you mean you took the serum, Yash?” Kagome demanded, looking at the place he had injected himself in disbelief. His skin was a little red - a little irritated. But wasn’t anything major. It certainly wasn’t worth her fussing over it.

“I mean I took it,” he shrugged, taking his arm back and hiding it behind his back. “It’s ready. We know it’s ready.”

“But the board--”

“--the board was never going to approve it. You and I both know that now, Kags,” he sighed, unable to bring himself to look her in the eye. “I thought you believed in this…”

“I do,” she insisted. “I’m just...They denied it for a reason…”

“Did they?” he demanded, and he watched her shift her gaze away from him. She doubted it too. He could see it. Clear as day. She thought that they were full of shit too.

Good.

It wasn’t just him.

“I’ll be ok, Kagome,” he promised, smiling weakly at her. “Trust me. Trust us,” he insisted, taking her hands in his. Her skin felt so soft…

“Trust us, huh?” she breathed, glancing from their hands back up to his face. “I think I can do that…”

***

He felt hot.

More than hot.

His whole body was on fire. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.

It was like he was being suffocated as searing pain shot through every joint - every limb - in his whole body. He tumbled out of bed, trying to get to the bathroom.

He needed to cool off. Needed water. Needed air.

He shoved his boxers down his scrawny legs, turning the shower on as cold as it could get. His flat chest was coated in a sheen of sweat - as were his thin, wiry arms. He pushed his way into the shower, allowing the cold spray to cool his body. The cold felt good. Calming. For a time. He could feel his muscles contracting beneath his skin. Could feel something happening to his bones. His eyes. His smell. It was overpowering him.

Can’t think.

Can’t breathe.

Can’t…

Darkness.

***

His teeth were chattering when he awoke. His jaw ached from clenching it so tightly. He was lucky that he didn’t bite his tongue off. The spray of the shower still fell around him, but instead of burning, he was freezing now. His fingers were blue, and he took that as a good sign.

A horrible side effect of the H4NY0U serum, for sure...but...He was fine. That was what mattered.

He rose up from the tile floor of this shower and turned the knobs, making the spray stop. His head felt weird. So did his mouth. His tongue felt thick and fuzzy. Like he was hung over, but he hadn’t been drinking. He needed to make note of these side effects.

This was important research.

Inuyasha grabbed the towel off the hook outside of the shower, running it through his black hair as he tried to warm up.

He patted it over his face as he stepped out, walking to the mirror above the sink so he could get some water. Maybe wash out this bitter, horrible taste in his mouth. He’d known that there would be side effects, but this...this wasn’t something he had anticipated…

He wrapped the towel around his waist, and turned on the sink, filling the glass beside it with water. When he turned it off, he caught something silver in his mirror out of the corner of his eye.

He paused.

Straightened his back.

And looked in the mirror.

There, standing behind his shoulder was a perfect copy of himself. Only this copy wasn’t his mirror image.

His copy was athletic. Strong. Muscles rippled beneath the skin of his naked body. Silver hair flowed down his back and shoulders. A purple, jagged stripe was on each cheek. Pointed ears sat atop his head. Molten red eyes with turquoise pupils stared unflinchingly back at him...a smirk plastered across his face, baring a hint of...fang?

“Hello, weakling.”

His glass slipped from his grip, shattering across the floor as he fainted.

#taryn-artistic-optimism

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liliesoftherain · 4 years ago

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My Hero Academia Main 3 Boys x Reader

Ch. 15 Hakamata vs Bakugou

Masterlist

A/N: OKAY WAIT I CAN EXPLAIN SDFJEVJ-

A big thank you for everyone who was waiting patiently. I know I haven’t been active lately, and I’ve been getting asks about this story and honestly I felt terrible for not updating, not because I was feeling pressured. So don’t think it was anyone pressuring me, honestly it wasn’t. I haven’t been feeling that motivated to write. School had kicked my ass the last few weeks, especially with this covid and everything happening, I’ve been exhausted. My job was ‘essential’ enough to keep me working throughout everything, and i had been picking up shifts and working my ass off, and honestly? I’m over work but lol need that money right

But I want to continue this story, I want to finish it. I have so much planned and I don’t want to abandon it. So I wont(: Get ready for updates, cause they’re coming. My other stories, I don’t really know what to do, I’ll make a post about that later. For now, enjoy this; it’s short, but I’m already working on the next chapter(:

SORRY FOR THE FIGHT SCENE THIS WRITING BREAK MADE ME EVEN WORSE WHEN IT COMES TO WRITING THEM LOLOL SORRY HUNS MUAH ENJOY ANYWAYS.

If anyone wants to be added to the taglist, or if i missed you, please send an ask and I’ll add you!!

TAGLIST: @rizamendoza808 !(: @iris-suoh !(: @quicksilverfangirl !(: @shortperson202 !(: @noodlenerd101 !(: @matchamidoriya !(: @thorsbtch-captainnoobmaster69me !(: @pastel-prynce !(: @sunkissedneptune @monetfatalia !(: @legit-fandom-trash !(: @lovethewitchofendor !(: @dekuxlink !(: @water-melone98 !(: @helena-way07 !(: @nothing17-7 !(: @hopelessdisasterr !(: @karmaboundlife !(: @lunamoonmint !(: @ihatemyselftoinfinityandbeyond !(: @beew !(: @kaylees1414 !(:

You watched the next battle feeling more upbeat, thanking everyone as they gave you their congratulations. You were in awe at the fight between Bakugou and Kirishima, seeing as the former was on the defensive until the latter was suffering due to the overuse of his quirk. Bakugou had sent relentless attack after attack, managing to knock Eijiro out and win the battle.

“With that vicious win, Bakugou advances to the third round! Ladies and gentlemen, take a look at our final four.”

You glance up to the big screen to see a picture of you along with Bakugou, Todoroki, and Iida on it, the cheers erupting all around the stadium. You chug down your 5th bottle of water before turning on your heel to walk out; you hadn’t sat down, choosing to stand by the entrance just to watch the fight.

You throw your bottle in the trash as you head down the hallway, spotting a boy making his way towards you,

“Hey, Izuku,” you wave, a smile on your face, “you’re looking, well, better.”

“O-oh, hey! Yea, I guess so,” he smiled back sheepishly, his arm in a cast and he was bandaged all over, “Recovery Girl healed me up, enough to walk at least.”

“Shouldn’t you be resting up then? It’s not smart to make your injuries worse you know.”

“I’ll be fine, really, I don’t want to miss any more battles. This is where everyone’s efforts are paying off, including yours. Congrats on being top four, (y/n).” He beams, there was that excited gleam in his eye, the one he gets when he watches a pro at work.

“O-oh, thanks-” You blush at the look, being cut off as he starts to rant.

“Tokoyami is super strong, and you managed to win! I mean, since I also found out about Dark Shadows and Tokoyami’s weakness I assumed you would have no trouble taking him down. Not saying you wouldn’t have won without a weakness! I don’t doubt you and your abilities, really, you’re an amazing fighter! I wish I would have been able to see your fight, but at least I’ll be able to watch you go up against Kaachan-”

Your laughter brought him out of his word vomit, and he felt the blush grow along his face. He knew he often had issues with muttering whatever he thought, but for some reason it was worse when he was with you; his tongue felt heavy in his mouth, his head was light, and he couldn’t help how he spoke his mind. He liked talking to you, telling you everything he thought. You always gave him your full attention, no matter how crazy, long, or irritating it was.

Maybe that’s why he found you so captivating?

“S-sorry, I was doing it again..”

“Don’t be, and you were with me in spirit Deku! Even if you didn’t get to watch. Plus, I doubted myself against Tokoyami in the first place, I wouldn’t blame you if you did.” You watched as his eyes widened.

“But I didn’t! I-”

“I know, thank you. I mean it,” you bite your lip to contain the grin that wants to break across your face, “you always believe in me and I appreciate it. You’re the best, Izuku.”

The large blush that spread across his body made you giggle once more before you continued forward, glancing back to give a dazzling smile.

“Now go watch those matches, I’ll be listening for your cheers when it’s my turn!”

“Ye-yeah…” The goofy grin stayed on his face the rest of his journey to the stands.

You made it to the waiting room, breathing in deeply as you steal your nerves for the next match. You were calmer this time, not in the sense of feeling confident, oh no.

You were going up against Bakugou Katsuki; one of the strongest and smartest guys you've ever met. He had such an incredible display of reflexes and skills, for this fight you knew you had to be smart and cautious if you wanted half a chance against him.

The more you thought about it, the more you felt as if your head would explode. There weren’t really a lot of ways to go about it; he didn’t have a huge drawback like yours or Tokoyami’s, his greatest weakness was most likely the prolonged use of his quirk, and the strain it provided on his muscles and fibers in his arms. He wasn’t stupid either, he quick reaction times and well thought up plans-as long as Izuku wasn’t involved.

He always lost it when it came to Deku.

The sound of announcements rang overhead, and you snapped out of your thoughts to see you've been sitting for about five minutes or so. You stand and leave the room, heading out of the waiting room and towards the arena.

Walking up the steps, you saw your opponent already waiting. The pillars in the corners erupting with flames, the crowd being drowned out by the booming voice of Present Mic.

“And now, Bakugou vs Hakamata! These two have been coming out high in the ranks all day, let’s see which one can handle the heat better! Those destructive explosions or that fiery light! There could have also been sparks of a burning romance between these two, will this be the end of it!?”

“You’re jumping to conclusions again.”

You desperately ignore the teasing words, knowing your dad was definitely going to have a talk with you once this was all over. You noticed the slight flushing of Bakugou’s face, knowing he must’ve been annoyed by the accusations as well.

“Oh well, ready!? BEGIN!”

Wasting no time, you spring forward, using your quirk to give you a boost as you drew your arm back for an attack. Bakugou cocked his own right arm, setting off an explosion to get you to back off. You dodge, bringing your arm down and having light extend to the ground to push off and throw you up into the air. Maneuvering behind him you extend your leg, knocking an elongated beam of light into his back.

He let out a grunt, and without missing a beat turning and reaching to grab a hold of your ankle. You willed the light to wrap around your ankle, raising the heat in hopes of him letting go.

“Fuck!”

He still held on, despite any pain, throwing you over his shoulder onto the concrete. You caught yourself, landing in a crouched position. There wasn’t a clear way to beat him from a distance, nor was there a clear victory to beat him in close combat. The longer he continued, the more he’d sweat-the more his quirk would be fueled.

All you had to do was bring the heat, be fast, get him out of bounds.

Bakugou stared straight into your eyes and saw how determined you were, the steely focus that left him feeling weird. As if he were hyper aware yet dazed at the same time; you were strong, there was no doubt in his mind that you could kick some ass, even if you had some doubt against yourself.

However, no matter how large your smile was, how bright that stupid sparkle in your eye was after you won a match, he couldn’t afford to lose. He was angry; angry at people for thinking less of him, angry with people assuming he was all talk, angry with Icy Hot-acting as if Deku was more of a threat than he was. He needed to fight to prove himself, and he’d take down anyone in his way. Even if it was you.

He threw an open palm towards you, a large exploding firing that you couldn’t dodge went straight towards your face. Thankfully you weren’t sent flying back, your quick thinking allowing you to extend your light as a brace to hold you steady at the impact, mentally thanking Todoroki for the move.

Since you were able to steady yourself, along with having the cover of the smoke, countering was a move Bakugou clearly didn’t expect as you lunged forward and landed a punch against his cheek.

“That was a solid hit little miss Hakamata delivered!”

The moment your fist connected you saw the look on his face; that glare and that feral grin of his as it spread across his lips.

“FUCKING DIE!”

His shout accompanied a larger, more forceful explosion, this time successfully knocking you back. You rolled along the ground, quickly picking yourself up as you sent multiple beams of light yourself to counter his explosions. They were hindering your aim, knocking into each other and effectively missing him.

It was all too frustrating.

You thought of a way you could beat him, but to do so you’d be taking an even bigger risk than you did with Tokoyami. At least in that battle, you were pretty darn sure your light would do the trick. You tried a move, a calculated risk, and it all fell into place thankfully. This time however, you had one chance and if you screwed up; it’d be all over.

If there was a way to maneuver him closer to the edge, you could rush at him with your light speed and hit him with a giant blast of light to knock him over the edge.

All you needed to do was get him to step out of bounds, you could do this.

Throughout your thinking, you had been countering Bakugou’s explosions, and vice versa with him flinging explosions your way to counteract your light. It was getting easier to see his power growing, the more sweat he was able to produce was giving him that boost. While in turn, your body only began to grow even warmer, uncomfortably so. You wanted nothing more than to rip off the new jacket you put on, to cool off in some way, but you were unable.

This battle was going on for too long, and you couldn’t risk it continuing, so you slowly started to back away and put distance between you two.

Bakugou didn’t seem to notice, so you hoped, as you made it far enough away to not be so close to the edge but just enough to give you a boost. You grunt, the heat feeling stronger as you let it course through you, glowing once more and rushing at the boy in front of you.

When you were using your light speed, despite how fast you traveled, you were able to see just about everything around you. The contrast was weird, but it was one you were used to with practice. You were unable to grab or touch anything in this form, since you were practically light yourself, so to be able to get Bakugou out of the ring you had to quickly go back to your original state.

Doing so, you only had a split second to see Bakugou’s eyes widen as you used your body to ram into his chest. You hear him gasp out, the force of you slamming into him causing the breath to escape from his lungs, as he was sent flying back.

Your hands on his chest draw light, extending it to help you further, sending you both in opposite directions; instead of following him out of the ring, you fall backwards as he skids across the ground and flies through the air towards the ground.

‘This is it,’ you think to yourself, watching him fall.

The smile on your face was immediately wiped away as you saw how Bakugou twisted in the air, arms pointed down towards the ground as he used his quirk to propel himself upwards. You try to stand, pushing away your dizzy spell as you try to send more light beams to get him off course and have him fall.

It was no good.

Katsuki used his quirk to rush you this time, just as you did him, and sent wave after wave of explosions your way while still in the air. Just like that it was over, the force of his quirk knocked you off, the heat only making your head spin as you fell onto the ground off the arena.

Your body was hot, it was aching, and you were trying to breath but found it difficult to do so-you reached your limit. Two big moves in one day was too much for you to handle, and you saw black in the corner of your eyes.

The stadium was silent for a moment, Midnight’s voice being the last thing you heard before your eyes fluttered closed.

“Hakamata is out of bounds, Bakugou is the winner!”

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yuthoe · 4 years ago

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ONEUS Ravn x Ballroom Dancing

hey hey hey, i’m back, but this time with some HCs from one of the boys from ONEUS! honestly didn’t think i’d write for them, but honestly i should have known when the teaser images for “TBONTB” dropped lmao. anyways, if you’ve read any of my PTGxBallroom HCs or saw me gagging in this post, then you know i’ve been wanting to make ONEUSxBallroom HCs too mwahahahaha (i blame covid and how long it’s been since i last danced. am i projecting? mayhaps.)

(also damn, these things keep getting longer and longer lol)

PAIRING: RAVN x reader. GENRE: headcanons. WARNINGS: n/a. WORD COUNT: 975.

Master List

---

A Latin dancer that lowkey does some other styles. He isn’t one to brag about it, but he was in a dance group back in high school, and they were actually pretty popular. They were a mixed styles group, so they did some jazz, some hip hop, some other things. How he became a ballroom dancer is a different story, though.

Urban Boyz (the dance troupe) was attending a competition in the same building as a preliminary dancesport competition (Standard Division), and he was intrigued at all the outfits. So after his group’s performance, he decided to check it out, sneak at peek through the slightly open door.

Youngjo was totally taken aback by the fluid movements of the dancers on the floor, the way the follows’ skirts sailed through the air like wings, and the way the leads dodged through everyone else and avoiding a collision while still doing the choreography. He was entranced.

He got home that night and looked it up, asked his parents if he could join ballroom classes on the weekends, and somehow learning proper framing the next Saturday.

He started out in Standard, and while he was good at it, he realized it didn’t feel right, so he sat in on a cha-cha-cha class after his waltz lessons.

And BOY Youngjo absolutely loved it! He loved all the complicated steps and the arm choreography, the sass and strength of the dance. After that session, he finally figured out what he really wanted from ballroom.

He kept training all the way through high school and college, but he didn’t quit the dance troupe, nor did he stop exploring other styles. He just really really likes ballroom. So in the event you want to dance something other than Latin, you just just kind of look up choreography online or make some up on your own.

Offer to go to the gym with him and he’ll say no; but during conditioning days, he’ll take all the aches and pains in stride without once complaining. (Also he doesn’t tell you, but he does go to the gym sometimes, when he needs to let off some steam or if he’s noticed he’s becoming more Bbangjo than Youngjo.)

The epitome of shy when you first met at the studio he trains at. He’s quite the quiet type, but when you became partners you got to know his softer and more caring side, along with his more mischievous and funny traits. The more you got to know each other, the better he led you, and soon he was twirling you around and anchoring you like you’ve been partners for years rather than months.

You’d be the first to admit that he flusters you--it’s the look he gives you when you dance the rumba or paso, the way he rests his hand on your shoulder blade just so but still firm enough to guide you into a dip. He’s a natural lead and you consider yourself blessed for having such a capable and attentive partner.

His Instagram and Twitter are full of selfies--sometimes in training clothes, other times in costume. He posts something every week, whether it’s asking how his fans are doing, or just dumping his photos on social media because he’s running out of space on his phone.There’s one set of selfies that he posted that he took before your samba heat was up, and the slicked back hair paired with the deep v-neck suit? Absolutely incinerated all his fans.

Facebook exists just for competition announcements other gigs he might have. Has a secret SoundCloud that he had from way before, but he hardly posts there anymore. Doesn’t stop his fans from listening to his beautiful songs and covers, though.

The cha-cha-cha has a special place in his heart. It’s the first Latin dance he actually learned and he just feels so happy and energized while dancing it. Loves that it’s simultaneously crisp and soft in certain parts, and definitely taps his foot to the beat when he hears it in the supermarket.

Youngjo doesn’t shy away from the passion of the paso doble, though. The shaping of the body is what intrigues him about the dance. He’s already tall, but somehow when he dances the paso he just becomes taller, feels stronger. It’s also an excuse to make eyes at you and challenge you.

He’d posted this cover on his YouTube (that doesn’t really get a lot of action) one time and you joked about making a routine for it. But Youngjo, always one to look for excuses to get close to you, immediately wanted to give it a go.

The song is perfect for a rumba, but you both decided to speed it up a little--you thought you’d be able to show off better (read: steamier) choreo if it were just a tad bit faster.

You worked on the dance during one of your free days, and it was a struggle to not blush whenever you’d have to get up in each other’s faces. You’d been partners for literal years now, what’s got you so flustered?

Needless to say, Youngjo enjoyed it (the practice and your flushed face) very much.

You decided to film it in the studio, dressed very smart casual--Youngjo’s in a simple v-neck with his dance pants and Cuban heels, and you just put on a plain shirt, loose pants, and your heels. The aim was to be as sultry as possible without the aid of any “sexy” costumes.

You uploaded it onto your YouTube and within hours, fans were making GIFs and edits to the video, and it even got featured on some dancesport accounts on Twitter and Facebook. His friends from the studio keep teasing him about how greasy he was in the video, they’re never gonna let him live it down--just like with Leedo and that commercial.

#oneus #oneus ravn #oneus youngjo #ravn #youngjo #kim youngjo #oneus ravn scenario #ravn scenario #oneus scenarios #oneus imagine #hc: mine #hc: ravn #hc: not spicy #ok it's a little spicy #theme: ballroom au

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capricornus-rex · 4 years ago

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Two Sides of the Coin (9)

Chapter 9: A Sense of Familiarity | Jidné Sheedra x Cal Kestis

Summary: Hell-bent on exacting revenge and retrieving the Holocron, the dreaded Darth Vader is now on the hunt for the young Jedi Knight, Cal Kestis. Under the assumption that he still possessed the artifact, while fueled by the intrigue of the boy’s strength and skill with the Force, the dark lord hires the bounty hunter, Jidné Sheedra, to track him down and have him delivered alive. However, the task becomes a trial for young Jidné, as she faces a conflict that tests her beliefs of a scarred past she had hidden for so long.

A/N: I am way overdue, so so so sorry about this!! ;;A;; I had to recover from yesterday’s COVID-19 testing because I have EXTREME needle phobia, I passed out minutes after being needled. On the bright side, I came out negative of the virus, yaaay!! ^^ Hope you all are staying safe and healthy 💞 Friendly reminder to wash your hands ;3

Also tagging @silver-is-in-too-many-fandoms

Also in AO3

Tags: Fem OC, Jidné Sheedra, Force-Sensitive! Fem OC, Bounty Hunter! Fem OC, Jedi! Fem OC

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 | Previous: Part 8 | Next: Part 10 | Masterlist

9 of ?

Dawn broke and the badlands met the sun’s rays.

The desert animals poke out of their rustic homes to bask in the first few minutes of sunrise—from the tiniest lizard living inside an animal skull to the apex predators emerging out of their dens.

Cal decided to venture out into the badlands as well, it occurred to him that he had only seen the forest and the town—whose name he learned to be Diitana, thanks to BD-1’s diligent scanning from yesterday; he gave the badlands a try.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad,”

“Beeee!”

The Jedi was careful to avoid the eyes of the hulking beast with a pair of great horns on its head and another on the end of its muzzle, a thin mane wrapped around its leather neck, the skin was color ranges from stone gray to a shade of burgundy that matches with the color of the sand or the unique breed of grass in the region.

These giants eagerly protected their turf and grazed at the same time, letting the females and the young play around within their circle. BD-1 leaned forward and forward, until his legs were at the edge of Cal’s armor straps.

“I know you want a scan, BD, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to get close. Those horns look sharp,”

Cal and BD-1 continued their trek, the Jedi had his eyes on the island across the great lake. He squinted his eyes, used his hand as a visor over his brows, and surveyed the distance if it was safe or not. Choosing to walk would take longer as he would go around the road until he reaches the island, swimming wouldn’t be so bad. The water crashed and pulled at his feet, he cautiously dipped his boots into the water to get a feel of the depth; he went further from the shore, then the shallows, and eventually paddled his way through the water.

It wasn’t a long swim, neither was it a short one. He simply kept his eyes on the objective.

The Jedi climbed out of the water and found himself in the island situated in the center of the lake—whose channels branched out and turned into more rivers—the animals that resided there were mere medium-sized vermin, perhaps contesting with the size of the Bog Rats back home in Bogano or the Scazz in Zeffo, but these local animal were completely docile.

“Alright then, I guess you could scan these since it’s safer here… I hope,”

“Wooo-wooop!”

The tiny white droid hopped out of Cal’s shoulders while the boy wrung the water off of his shirt and shook his legs dry. Meanwhile, little BD-1 skittered left and right, ahead and back, flashing his blue scanner lights at anything that won’t jump and attack him for the sake of standing too close. He even managed to scan a skull of the same beast back in the mainland.

“Oh, so that big thing’s called the Uroda,”

“Beee-woop!”

“Yeah, I agree. Best we take a look around, you go on ahead and scan around—just be careful,”

With Cal’s permission, BD-1 scanned whatever and wherever he pleases; meanwhile, the boy explored the islet which was significantly big for one, nevertheless it fascinated him. Something lured Cal and so he brushed his way through a patch of tall reeds, leading to the other side; when he pushed down the grass that was blocking his view, it was too little too late for him to realize that it’s become his undoing.

A Haxion Brood hunter was idling on the other side of the island. He heard the rustling of the reeds and anticipated the Jedi—for all that hunter knew, it could have been an animal, yet he was full of conviction that it was Cal. Before the boy brushed away the grass that draped him for protection, the hunter flicked the safety of his rifle and rested it on his shoulder…

Until Cal found him—or the other way around.

“There ye is, Umah!” the hunter snarled and squeezed the trigger, Cal dodged the shot by an eyelash.

The hunter was accompanied by another human with cybernetic limbs, apparently named Umah, only this time the second one donned a jetpack—making him extremely inconvenient for the boy.

“Aww, too easy to kill, innit, Pavo?!” the second bounty hunter, a rough-voiced female, barked.

With the push of a button, Umah went flying off the ground with her jetpack—literally having the high ground and the advantage, her flight lessened Cal’s odds of winning this skirmish, which somewhat boosted her confidence that she and Pavo would get the bounty for the Jedi.

“We’re not done yet!” Pavo snarled and tossed a flashbomb, he cloaked his eyes with his gauntlet while Umah flew a bit farther from the blast radius.

The din of the skirmish didn’t reach far in the expanse of the badlands, but the faintest sound was enough to alert the right person.

“Beee?” ID-3 inquired after noticing that Jidné paused from gathering desert plants.

“Something doesn’t feel right, ID-3,”

Jidné and ID-3 stared at one another, but she was listening carefully for the sound. The distant echoing of a barrage of blasters made her ears prick up. She lousily stuffed the bushel of plants she’s collected so far and, out of instinct—or perhaps, of impulse—she followed the din of the battle. Jidné hurried to the direction of where the sound was coming from, with every step she took, the louder the sound.

I’m close! I’m in the right track! The fleet-footed bounty hunter thought to herself, leaving plumes of dust at her footsteps’ wake.

It got louder, every minute. Battle grunts could be heard, explosions of bombs popped in her ears, and the humming of a lightsaber sung hollowly in the empty trenches. She’s now close by the island, she kept her momentum was perfectly constant—instead of swimming, she made stepping stones out of the logs and the rocks sticking out of the water until she’s set foot on the island. She arrived unnoticed.

As Jidné ran, she spotted Umah floating about in her jetpack. There was an inclining boulder at the edge of the island, she brandished her lightsaber as she ran over the rock to gain height in order to reach Umah. While the enemy was unaware, Jidné severed the wing of the jetpack, causing it to immediately malfunction and plummet Umah hard to the dust.

Cal was too focused on Pavo that he didn’t noticed that Umah had been incapacitated until her face skidded across the shore.

“UMAH!!!” a startled Pavo exclaimed.

“Mind if I even out the odds?” Jidné blurted, landing flat on the balls of her feet after her jump attack succeeded.

“Jidné! Am I glad to see you!” Cal quipped back.

Umah brought herself up to her feet, even underneath the overhanging rim of her helmet and the mask that covered half of her face—it doesn’t need much thinking to figure out that her fury against Jidné is through the roof, along with her fatally wounded pride of having her face shoved into the sand.

This display of assertion didn’t intimidate the younger bounty hunter, frankly, it excited her more. With Umah’s eyes glued to her, Cal could keep himself busy with the Pavo fellow.

“I’M GOING TO GUT YOU OPEN AND STICK A FLASHBANG IN YOUR INSIDES!!!” Umah roared.

“Oooh!” Jidné mockingly shuddered at the threat, and then gripped tight around her lightsaber hilt. “That’s imaginative of you—even for a crook!”

With the bounty hunter seething with blinding, reckless rage, Jidné has the upper hand. Umah ditched the jetpack and produced a vibroblade from the holster clipped to her belt; upon seeing the weapon, the Jedi girl positioned herself into a defensive stance—anticipating for Umah to come charging towards her to avenge her damaged ego.

While Jidné’s engaged in melee with Umah, switching between kicks and slashes of the lightsaber; Cal is attempting to get a jab at Pavo, who kept himself safe behind his compact shield that folds into his gauntlet. It was tricky for Cal, but he managed to make his own luck by using his Force abilities. The redheaded Jedi anticipated the moment Pavo was open and vulnerable without his shield, and then inflicted Force slow on the enemy—when that tactic was successful, he didn’t spare a second in dawdling and dashed towards the hunter with an overhead strike.

“Come here, you little shit! I’ll have that pretty face delivered to Sorc!!”

“You can see me through that damn roof on your head, you wench?!”

The taunt did it. Umah raises her vibroblade, both hands on the hilt, and makes a running attack on Jidné; the young girl managed to evade the incoming attack, Umah quickly recovered and twirled around to afford another hit—but Jidné denied it in the blink of an eye. The vibroblade’s glow flickered out for a second against the blinding purple gleam of Jidné’s saber.

Jidné pulled away and immediately followed through with a diagonal slash to finish off Umah. The crook’s body thudded lifelessly on the sand, Jidné’s head jerked to the sound of Cal’s cry of pain—Pavo had knocked him down hard using the shield. Thinking fast, she lobbed her saber at his foot—the only body part unprotected from the shield—and gashed his shin, then mustering all her Force energy, Jidné sent out a powerful push against Pavo and sent him into the water.

Both Jedi caught their breaths, Jidné walked up to Cal and was the one to offer him a helping hand this time.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” he takes her hand and she pulled him up his feet. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. I owe you one after all, from those Bashiji cats the other day,”

“Right,” he nodded, recalling his rescue for her in the jungle.

He absentmindedly fixated his eyes on the girl’s hand and then to her alternately—he recalls the faint ripple of the Force that he sensed the day he landed into Ombari, and that ripple grew until it became stronger the moment he discovered Jidné. There was something unusually warm about her—aside from the fact that she was also once a Padawan and a survivor—Cal simply found it easy to talk to her and that she was easy to be around, despite being someone who carried a similar burden.

At first he thought it was a fluke or a trick, but today otherwise proved it to him. He and Jidné had an uncanny knack of finding each other in the right time—even if they never expected it.

“Um, Cal…”

“Yeah?”

“You can let go of my hand now, pretty sure you can stand without a support,” Jidné weakly chuckled, eyeing on their conjoined hands and then shifting her look back to Cal.

Cal slightly tilted his chin up, his fingers slowly unfurled and his palm slipped away from Jidné’s grasp. He looked away to shield his reddening face from Jidné’s eyes. The boy did all sorts of fiddling across his person just to shake off the awkwardness.

“What brings you here in the badlands?” he initiated, trying to divert her attention from his blushing.

“I was collecting some desert plants and herbs. A vendor in Diitana told me she’d give coin to whoever can bring them to her. And you?”

“Just wanted to take a better look at Ombari,”

Cal walked up to the edge of the island, scooped up a handful of water to splash it on his face; he combed his fiery scarlet locks with his damp fingers as he turned to face Jidné—from her view, the sun perfectly tinged its rays on the sheen of the top of his head, it was like watching fire dance softly. Goosebumps pelted her skin, she could feel them underneath the sleeves of her beige jacket, and the hairs at the back of her neck stood up—her hand impulsively reached for her nape and rubbed it to calm her nerves.

Jidné pensively surveyed the island, “Not bad for an itinerary.”

The two Jedi laughed at the lighthearted joke, they were so caught up with their giggling that they didn’t realize Pavo was still alive. The crook swam upwards, as quietly as possible and caught a glimpse of Cal’s leg; as Pavo neared the surface, his right cybernetic arm clawed its way out of the water and hooked around Cal’s ankle—it all happened within a flash that neither Jedi was able to react against it in time.

“CAL!!” Jidné shrieked, she jumped into the water seconds after Cal was pulled in.

Pavo had his arm wrapped around Cal’s neck, the boy kicked wildly as bubbles foamed out of his nose and mouth while trying to loosen the crook’s arm around his neck. In the blur of the lake’s water, Jidné paddled as fast as she can, apparently Pavo was armed with little turbines on the ankles of his boots to speed up his swimming and she only had her breather on her.

She swam as quickly as she could, her shoulder joints were beginning to ache but she didn’t care, her legs were gradually cramping from the forced paddling until she got closer to them; she pulled in Pavo, who still had Cal in a chokehold, and Cal suddenly headbutted Pavo in the middle of the pull—allowing himself to break free at least a few inches away from the bounty hunter—and then Jidné ignited her saber through Pavo’s chest. The hum of the saber was muffled by the bubbling of the water and she gave a slight push of the body away from her and Cal.

The dead bounty hunter’s arms opened and limped in the water, Cal paddled towards Jidné and gawked at the glowing purple beam—his jade eyes were wide in bewilderment, and then air bubbled plumed out of his mouth, forgetting that he needed to breathe. They both swam to the surface, but Pavo had pulled in Cal so deep that he’s lost most of his breath trying to break free—his hands desperately searched for the breather in his pocket until he found it and attached it to his mouth. His lungs were relieved to finally suck in some air and he was able to keep up with Jidné. Both Jedi sprang out of the water and clutched onto the sand, too tired and heaving to pull themselves up, they dragged their bodies to the shore as they greedily panted for air whilst their droids skittered off of their shoulders to shake off the water that seeped into their bodies.

“How…” Cal gasped. “Your lightsaber… How did you…”

“It’s… ahh…” Jidné heaved, her chest rising and falling. “A modification I made… a long time ago. My master had it too.”

A series of breathing was their only exchange after that.

“Can’t yours work underwater?” she added.

“Nah… doesn’t…”

“I can help you with that,”

Cal turned his head to the side, examining Jidné’s face riddled with water droplets trickling and drawing from her cheekbones and forehead. Tiny rainbows reflected on the beads of water on her skin thanks to the sunlight; he had a glimpse of the silhouette of her profile—the slight parting of her lips, the defined bridge of her nose and the curving scar across her cheekbone.

“You will?”

“Yeah, it’ll come in handy the next time something like that happens to you,” and then Jidné chuckled before uttering her follow-up. “And I won’t be around to save your ass if that happens.”

“Well, I’d rather have you around,”

Jidné shifted her head to her left side, she finds Cal facing up in the sky with his eyes closed as he continues to catch his breath—but his breathing has calmed, the slow rhythm of the rise and fall of his chest disturbed the fabric of his drenched jacket—she spots a little smirk curling at the corner of his mouth that faces her.

Her heart pounded wildly again, so much so that she had to clutch her chest to calm it down—she felt like it would rip through her shirt if it beats any faster. Emotions flooded and then conflicted her with the objective in mind. She bit her lip as she zoned out, staring back at the blue sky hoping to find enlightenment to this confusion—to her dismay, there were only white plumes of clouds hanging above their heads, no answers, no clarity to these feelings that have muddled her ever since she found her sweet, redheaded target.

“Think you could help me modify it today?” asked Cal.

“No problem, but you’re gonna need another crystal,”

“You mean, another kyber crystal?”

Jidné looks at the Cal straight in the eye to prove that she’s not joking and then nodded.

“Well, I guess we’ll have to make a cutting trip to Ilum then,”

Cal groaned, Jidné sensed the disdain in his voice. Going there must feel like a chore—a very cold chore.

“Would you like to come with?” he added.

Taken aback by the invitation, her eyes shifted around, quickly thinking of an alternative. She wouldn’t want to leave the Scarab one planet away—she simply couldn’t leave her baby in the middle of nowhere! Even if she activated the cloaking device on the ship, there’s no guarantee that scavengers or animals would bump into it sooner while she’s gone.

“O-Oh, I don’t know, Cal…”

“Oh, I wouldn’t wanna push it on you. We could still meet after I come back from Ilum, then you can help me modify it!”

“Are you always this… optimistic?”

He lightly chuckled, “Well, you’re the second person to say so.”

Eventually, the two arrived at a stalemate whether or not Jidné comes along with him to Ilum. She told him that she couldn’t leave her ship behind—that was hiding amongst the trenches in the badlands—he understood her side, and so there was a compromise.

Jidné ended up being left behind in Ombari.

“Just promise me one thing,”

“What’s that?”

He took both of her hands into his, and gave it a quick shake before speaking.

“Swear you’d wait for me?”

Her heart jumped. She blinked which prompted Cal to reiterate, constantly assuring her that Ombari was close by Ilum’s system.

“I promise it won’t take much time, so long as you promise me you’d wait for me and you’ll help me,”

His eager, emerald eyes shone brightly right in front of Jidné’s dark, earthen eyes. She can feel his fingers caging her knuckles tighter by the second, she never thought she’d find herself lost in his eyes and that kind, innocent smile. She could feel her heart sinking down and joining her butterfly-filled stomach.

She sighed and pursed her lips, “Okay. I’ll see you soon, then.”

His hands gently clutched her arms and exclaimed happily in reaction to her reply. As a matter of fact, it startled her, but she’s still too prideful to admit that it felt nice. Once again, she felt genuinely wanted or needed—not because they want her to get rid of a target, but for honest reasons such as Cal’s. It almost made her tear up, she couldn’t remember the last time she felt this way.

Jidné almost didn’t want Cal to let go—he didn’t want to admit it, rather he was too bashful to say so—but he did, she sensed the hesitation in his withdrawal and compensated with an awkward bidding of goodbye.

Cal searched for a way out of the island, and then he turned to Jidné as if asking for a hint. She pointed at the same path she took when she got to the island.

“Just a hop, skip, and a jump there, ginger.”

“Thanks, Jidné.”

“You’re welcome… Cal.”

The young bounty hunter watched the boy cross the logs and stepping stones across the river until he landed on the other side and then disappeared out of the badlands.

Oh… Oh joy… the voice in her head groaned.

“Trill, beee!” ID-3 sang in high-pitched notes.

“Ha-ha, real cute, ID-3,”

ID-3 argued with his owner, further insinuating that Jidné is starting to get “attached” to Cal. The droid went as far as using the “Attachments are forbidden to the Jedi” card.

“Whoa, whoa, since when did you pick that up, lil’ guy!?”

“Beee-beep, chirp!”

“Have you been scanning my journals?”

The guilty droid lowed a soft chirp, Jidné chuckled and patted his head, reassuring him that she’s not angry with him, but could’ve just asked her to lay out all her manifests for him to expand his databank. Meanwhile, the conflict within her continues to swirl like a storm—her feelings battled with her sense of duty. As she watched Cal’s figure shrink the farther he goes, all she could think about is the warmth that she gets from him during their interactions and it always drew a little smile out of her.

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fizzingwizard · 4 years ago

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Since covid-19 is gone forever!! *cough* intense sarcasm *cough* that means we can have TV again! Yay? Anyway we can finally see ep four of Digimon Adventure:. I was really looking forward to this one because Sora!

And she is so cute. I mean, just look:

Honestly Sora is so awesome, she can be that cute even though the general animation of this ep is quality product like this:

Animators: 'Anatomical accuracy is against my religious beliefs. Besides, chins are so passe.'

I might as well say how I felt right out: this ep was a bit of a drag. I keep saying it’s important not compare this show to old Adventure, since my rosy-lensed nostalgia glasses are permanently glued to my nose and all. But four eps in, the old Adventure had a bunch of different dynamics in the group at work already, which really beefed up the otherwise pretty standard plot into something special. The new show seems to take the opposite approach: it definitely wants us to know right from the start that there's a Big Story going on, and it would rather talk about that than develop the characters and relationships.

I am not *quite* complaining - not yet. It's still too early, although to be perfectly honest, I think the tone’s set at this point. But we don’t know what’s to come and how this might all add up. Plus, different is good. All depends where we’re going with this. More under the cut...

Anyway I'm just sooooo glad we got a real fantasy world! The background art is lovely! Really has the feel of a rainforest. Almost makes up for the crappy character art hahaha oh episode one I miss you already.

We start out with Taichi sputtering because Sora is not Koushirou. I don't think he's disappointed to see Sora, he was just SO SURE Koushirou would be there.

‘Koushirou! Were you always this pink? I am confusion!’

For her part, Sora is very chill about all this. She does not seem to share original!Sora's discomfort with affection. She's just total chill, so together. it's not very interesting, but we have plenty of time to get to know her more. And she gets to be a Cool Girl, not just a Responsible Girl. In this episode she's resourceful, brave, and compassionate. Honestly, she's just as much protag material as Taichi is here. So my fingers are crossed that they will Tag Team it a lot. I loved that in this ep Taichi and Sora showed so much appreciation for each other! Because my personal headcanon growing up was that Sora was next in line to lead if Taichi was ever not around, not Yamato!

They discover a Magic Rock with digi-code on it, and Taichi can magically read it. This bit was pretty cool.

OMG! He's a parselmouth!

At least he's surprised? I doubt he reads this well when the teacher calls on him in class.

Speaking of Taichi, who IS this kid. I said I wouldn't complain, but I will at least a little on this: who is this kid! He's way too together to be Taichi. I love athletic, goal-oriented, go-getter Taichi, but he needs his childish exuberance and goofiness to balance it out. He needs to be something other than perfect. Perfect Sports Human strikes again! (But - although I’ve been leery of this Taichi since the beginning, I’ve also genuinely enjoyed him interacting with Agumon and Koushirou in the other eps. Yamato too. I think this ep was just a miss, tbh. Just a bit uninspired.)

There is one way in which he is ABSOLUTELY my Taichi...

... his dedication to fighting alongside Agumon. Literally. Bahaha. There's the Taichi I know.

Now, it's just not Digimon Adventure if you don't jump right off a steep cliff.

Old Adventure: "We can't jump, we'll die!" New Adventure: "Let's jump to certain death!" "Okay!"

Now as happy as I am that we get a proper fantasy world, so far it doesn't seem all that challenging. Taichi and Sora know a crap ton about how to kick in the wilderness it seems. Not only can they build fires...

... the two of them can apparently build a raft. All by themselves.

When the old Adventure crew built a rash, they had help from a bunch of large Digimon. New!Taichi and Sora must be the most RIPPED eleven year olds in the world.

Also Pocket Koushirou is back wooo!

And not only that... he's got a Pocket Taichi!

Eeee!

Sora's first instinct is to poke Pocket Koushirou. Sora is Best Girl.

So another pet peeve in this ep: I hate that Koushirou met Tentomon off screen ): C'est la vie. Tentomon has clearly made up his mind to adopt Koushirou. The first thing he does is thank Taichi for looking after Koushirou sheesh what a mom.

I loved that the kids' only goal in the first arc of Adventure was to get home. They had no idea about a bigger picture until right before the Devimon battle. And even after that, they were more concerned with getting home than figuring it out, for the most part. It lent a bit of realism and it kept things feeling tense and high stakes. This show's not going the Lost route though, and everyone is peculiarly unruffled by their strange situation.

I KNOW SORA IS BEST GIRL BUT WHYYYYY DOES SHE HAVE THIS KNIFE

Look at all of the things Sora brought that will coincidentally be super helpful if they’re stuck in this world for any length of time...

So then they get in the raft and immediately hit some rapids.

HANG ON TO WHAT???

Ooooh the tunnel is always my favorite part of the roller coaster ride!

More attacks - Taichi rolls high on athleticism again. Michael Jordan would be proud.

Turns out we do get a proper evolution sequence in this show! Thought we'd dodged that bullet. At least it's cool!

Somehow I just love the idea of Greymon swimming. And Taichi sitting on him as they dive underwater like Paikea in Whale Rider.

Here is Sora being cool and scaling Snimon's leg. I am so here for strong athletic Sora. She's no shrinking violet. It's easy to see how she and Taichi came to be friends.

Just ahead: Plot device

We end by heading to this mysterious temple full of what look to be statues of mega-level Digimon. This is a plot for which 'subtlety' holds no meaning.

Oh, and Koushirou gets swallowed by a whale, which for me was the highlight of the episode. Can't wait to see how he gets out!

And well that's it. Verdict: Taichi and Sora are Very Cool, Koushirou is Precious, we desperately need more life to these interactions. I’m curious what sort of overarching plot they’re gonna find, or think they find. Even though it wasn’t clear at first that Chosen-Digimon relationships are predestined like in old Adventure, Agumon did seem to know Taichi already, and Piyomon in this episode states clearing “I waited for you.” It feels bit odd that they’re not all together, not jumping all over their partners, but it also just makes me really want to know why! What’s fundamentally different in this show that caused that change. Looking forward to episode 5!

Bonus: because I unironically adore acrobat!Taichi:

#digi spoilers #digimon adventure 2020 #fizz watches digimon 2020

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lonelyheartsclubhaze · 4 years ago

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We Sold Our Souls to Instagram

September 2020 // Chapter 2

“No, I’m not going to pick you up.” I shook my head, visibly and audibly annoyed. “You know damn well that I’m not getting behind the wheel. I’m hanging up, sorry.”

Converting potential energy into kinetic, the iPhone X left my hand, skimming across the wave-front of my bed. My hands ruffled through my hair as I inhaled then sighed, absentmindedly channelling the virtues of cellular respiration.

Tired of this perpetual bullshit, my fingers slithered across the Ikea desk before me, eventually detecting the apple of my bedroom’s Eden: a lychee ice Puff Bar. My fingers honed in on the device, ensnaring it, raising it to my lips. A deep breath saved me from the agony of sobriety, the nicotine buzz lasting a moment. Then, it was lost.

Six soft, knuckled knocks rapped at the bedroom door. “It’s unlocked,” I shouted.

A creak later, the door swung open, revealing Adam. There was nobody else in the house anyway. With a global pandemic at large and wildfires blazing on deep into September, neither Ajay nor Cam had seen Dwight House since March. Just Adam and me.

“Yo, we out,” he said, pulling a reusable, black cloth mask under his chin. “Can’t see shit outside but we still drinking, dawg.” Ah, the charming vernacular of a Korean-American friend from the elite suburbs of the East Bay.

“It’s good. What’re we feeling today?” I had actually enjoyed the past six months with Adam—it had been a good bonding experience. Despite his rough tone around me and the rest of the guys, Adam was quite versatile in social settings, weaving between upper-class gentility at investment banking info sessions and middle-aged rednecks at gun ranges. With classical Berkeley-liberal ideologies and Wall Street Journal-reading, center-right-leaning, finance friends, Adam defied social realities.

Adam shrugged. “Could go for some Chimay. I’m feeling classy.”

“Not a bad idea at all, my friend,” I said. It had been awhile since I’d had a good beer like Chimay, and I was getting sick of Coors Banquets. “On the other hand, your timing just might be—a bad idea, I mean. Air looks cancerous outside.” Marmalade light cast by the wildfires of a fuming Earth engulfed Northern California, held in suspense by cool, Pacific layers of atmosphere. It was like we were on planet Arrakis, from Dune, or trapped in the world of David Bowie’s Ziggy Stardust.

“The air low-key is cancerous. AQI is pushing 180’s right now,” said Adam, raising his eyebrows.

“Looks like an N95-kinda day. I’ve got a spare, you know,” I said, gesturing to a pile of three or so N95 masks by the lamp on my desk.

Adam waved it off. “Eh, I’m good. That’s some puss shit. Let’s just run over to Crafts and Grapes or some shit, shouldn’t take long.”

I shrugged. “So be it.”

Tossing on a pair of five-and-a-half inch inseam Lululemon shorts, I joined Adam as he hopped downstairs.

“Got keys?” he asked once we reached the door.

“Yer, we out,” I said, shaking my keys out from my shorts’ pocket to lock the front door.

“Fuck,” griped Adam. “It’s actually hot as shit out here.” Smoky, red air obscured him from sight as he craned his neck to see me.

“Hence the shorts.”

Adam squinted his eyes, pursed his lips, and jutted his head back and forth, mocking me. “For sure. Forgot your MCAT-lovin’-ass could predict the future. But really though—it’s the middle of September, dude. This shit is wrong. It’s hot as balls and California is on fire and the sky is red and fools are straight-up dying off this COVID shit.”

“And you’re still an idiot,” I said, flashing a cheeky smile.

“Are you qualified to diagnose me as an idiot?”

“Maddie would say so.”

“Hence the pet names.”

“Precisely.”

“We gotta do something about this, bruh. This shit pains me to see,” declared Adam.

“Let’s start by drinking these brews. We’ll recycle the bottles after.”

We walked east on Dwight toward Telegraph, dodging cars as we skipped across the one way street. Adam was quieter than usual, for the most part, looking up from his iPhone 11 Pro Max periodically to comment on something he’d read in the news, or the glum weather. He wore a khaki short sleeve button-up, Kapital raw denim jeans with smiley face patchwork on the back left pocket, and a pair of slip-on Nike Janoski sneakers. The jeans were nice—quite expensive, from the looks of it—but looked baggy on him. He didn’t seem to mind. In fact, all of his clothes wore a bit loose on him, akin to a fiery adolescent who’d picked out hand-me-downs from an older sibling. Who that older sibling might’ve been, I’d never know—with his unwavering demeanor, Adam always seemed like the eldest in the room.

Banking right onto Telegraph, we bore the full brunt of the veiled sun, which, though hidden behind dense clouds of smoke, now revealed its penetrating UV rays. We ducked under corrugated foam polycarbonate sheets, which lined the rooftops of mom-and-pop Telegraph shops, fending off the sun’s cancerous radiation. The insanity of the world mingled with the smoky, copper air, making me delirious. I imagined I was Mel Gibson or Tom Hardy in Mad Max, feigning off flashbacks in the Wasteland. At the corner of Telegraph and Blake street, Adam pushed and held open the door to Crafts and Grapes. Nodding my head at him in small thanks, I entered, squinting my eyes as the light shifted from hazy red to bright white inside. It was a tiny store, with two aisles directly ahead lined with candy, nuts, and other inconsequential (unless you ate too many) snacks, followed by two refrigerators: one in the back, the other on the far right. Cool, wispy air emanated from the cold storage, contrasting with the late summer atmosphere only meters behind us. A bell rang as the door squeaked to a halt, prompting the middle-eastern cashier, directly to our right, to rise from his stool and greet us. We nodded back silently, all three of us clad in masks.

Per usual, Adam took the lead, striding toward the fridge directly back. He popped open one of the see-through doors with his left hand, mapping his way through its items with his right pointer finger. Finding my eyes, Adam shook his head, indicating a lack of Chimay.

“Blue moons?” I suggested. “Mango wheats?”

Adam screwed up his face. “Fuck that. Let’s go with Lags.”

“Sure, why not.”

Adam kneeled and looped his hand through the cardboard handle of a Lagunitas StereoHopic IPA six-pack. We walked over to the register where Adam made small talk with the cashier. Eventually, he tapped his iPhone 11 to an Ingenico payment terminal, finalizing our transaction. Drinks acquired.

The bell jingled as the door shut behind us once more. We hurried home, eager to crack open our drinks, intent on droning out the blistered yonder. Adam tried to explain his enthusiasm for hoppy beers while I pretended to listen. He was distracting me, though; we both knew I couldn’t care less.

Arriving home, my keys found their way to the door, and we found our ways to the couch. A tenor beep resounded through our living room as Adam’s iPhone connected to an old speaker via bluetooth. “Street Lights” by Kanye West filled the air, followed by carbon dioxide bubbles freed by an unlikely liberator—the bottle opener.

Let me know

Do I still got time to grow?

Things ain’t always set in stone

That be known let me know

I found myself back in the hand-me-down BMW 330i, with her, the white wire packed into the lightning port of my iPhone, transmitting cosine waves that replicated the robotic voice I was listening to in my living room.

“Stop!” she cried, thrusting herself back against beige, leather seats. She wanted me to press the brakes. I had to stop the car, right, stop the car. Where were the brakes?

She was beautiful, of course.

Dark, brown hair fell over eyes of the same color, guarded by double-lids that I wish she hadn’t paid for.

Hardly anyone would notice the difference, but I did, and it hurt to know that she didn’t love them.

I loved them, unconditionally, but she loved the brakes.

Needed to find them.

We’d shared a large bowl of Marafuku’s acclaimed Hakata Tonkotsu DX ramen. I’d let her eat most of it, sneaking my chopsticks in for bites at intervals.

“Pennsylvania?” I shook my head.

“What, you’ve never been?” She tilted hers. “You’ll love it. Come with me.”

“You’re crazy,” I said, smiling. “My MCAT summer is coming up.”

She rolled her eyes. “Then I’ll help you study for it. Duh.”

“I’m sure Brandon would love that.”

“Will he? All the way from San Francisco?”

“He’ll make the trip.”

“Not if you do,” she said, melting my mind.

I was dizzy, sleepy, lost, a newborn. Vulnerable. And I couldn’t seem to find them.

I’m just not there in the streets

I’m just not there

Life’s just not fair

Sonorant chimes reverberated in my ears as Adam clinked his glass bottle to mine. “Cheers,” he said with a nod.

“Cheers,” I echoed. Leaning my head back, I swallowed, allowing the cool liquid down my esophagus and into my gut.

“You good?” he prodded.

“Yeah,” I replied, my voice cracking a little. I cleared my throat.

“Pretty hoppy, huh?”

I took another sip, licking my lips after. “Quite. I suppose we knew what we were getting ourselves into. You know, given the ‘StereoHopic’.”

“You right.”

“Yeah.”

“Yo,” said Adam. “On another note—might be going in on an addy deal with Grace if you’re tryna hop in.”

I scratched my head. While I wouldn’t have any major exams in the near future (although midterms for my biochem course [MCB 102, for my fellow pre-med students at Cal] were slated for October sixteenth), I certainly had errands that might be eased by a twenty milligram dose of extended-release Adderall. There’s nothing like a thorough room-cleaning session when you’re high on stimulant drugs.

The first time I ever tried Adderall must’ve been during my freshman year, back in 2017. Midterm season was approaching—come to think of it, that was around this time that year—and our generous friend, Grace, was kind enough to grant me a ten milligram pill of instant-release Adderall. Grace and I, along with Adam and perhaps Ajay, too, were partaking in a midnight study session at Moffitt Library, which was open twenty-four-seven—prior to the pandemic. I popped the pill, chased it down with a Javiva drink from Peet’s, and got to work.

Twenty minutes later I began to feel its effects as the amphetamine altered monoamines in my brain, releasing surplus dopamine into my many synaptic clefts. Optimism filled me to the brim and my vision bent inward. I saw nothing but the iPad in front of me, my mind enamored by golgi apparatuses and various protein structures. The stimulant saturated me with a profound appreciation for all thoughts that meandered into my head; a giddiness originated in my heart, spreading down my arms, my legs, and outward across my skull, contracting then expanding once more. It was artificial love.

Eventually, I was distracted. Grace’s dilated pupils stared into mine as she chattered away about Lin-Manuel Mir-something and a hurricane in Puerto Rico. After a second or two, my attention snapped away from cell membranes, landing instead on her words. The words of a girl from Colorado with a soft spot for the snow. I’d met Grace via Adam during Orientation Week and she’d quickly become one of my favorite people.

Gingerbread specks stippled her face like a George Seurat painting, fractal constellations arising as my eyes outlined her cheekbones. Gaps between long, chocolate locks revealed sepia collarbones, lined with descendants of the freckles on her face. A white Nike Alex Morgan soccer jersey overlaid the loose sweatpants that hung from her hips, held up by drawstrings I almost hoped would fail, concealing proportions that emulated golden ratios. Stained, white, laceless Vans hugged unpainted toes that tapped together when she spoke. Lips that scorned the artificially enlarged mouths of Instagram influencers communicated messages I was only barely beginning to listen to. She was the love interest of a nineties’ coming-of-age motion picture. But she wasn’t mine.

You know, I thought Adam might’ve loved her, but it was hard to tell when he was cycling through hookups with three different girls at a time. Come to think of it, I didn’t know if Adam loved anyone. A talker, yes; a charmer, certainly; but a romantic, I really didn’t think so.

He spent a lot of his time with her, no doubt. And she cared for him—anyone could see it. But she knew as well as I did that his head wasn’t in it. He wasn’t looking for love. He wanted to graduate, make money—to be someone. Sex seemed like nothing more than a physical need to him. I don’t think anyone would’ve described Adam as an emotionally vulnerable guy, and I don’t think anyone thought that emotion was what he kept those girls around for.

But at the same time, anyone could’ve seen what I saw in the way he bounced when she was around. Anyone could’ve heard the way he spoke about her. She meant something to him. But when you asked him about it, he’d brush it off; she wasn’t his type, or he had commitment issues (jokingly—but hey, grain of truth in everything).

Maybe she was his distraction from ambition—his distraction from latex-wrapped, emotionally removed nights and Wall Street Journal mornings, just as she was my distraction from cell structures.

For a good hour-and-a-half, Grace entertained me with conversation regarding natural disasters across the West; Broadway musical comparisons between Hamilton and Sunday in the Park with George; and the latest updates on Cal’s women’s soccer team, of which she was a huge fan. The Adderall certainly kept me focused, although not necessarily on my coursework.

“Let me know,” said Adam, tipping the bottle into the corner of his mouth. “I’m boutta text her back.”

I looked up from my lap at Adam. Right, I thought. “Sure, I could be down. Why not. Think you can pick me up two? I have some errands to run.”

“Twenty milligram XR work?” he asked as he tapped along the screen of his iPhone.

“That’ll do.”

The room went quiet for twenty to twenty five seconds as I was confirmed as an accomplice in the drug deal.

“What’s she been up to?” I asked.

“Hm?” he noised, raising his eyebrows without looking up.

“Grace,” I said. “Haven’t seen her much.”

He shrugged. “Not much, I guess. Drinking a solid amount though, from what I’ve seen.”

“Makes three of us.”

“Yeah,” he said, feigning a smile. “What about yours?”

“Maddie?”

“Yeah.”

I took a deep breath—inhaling, holding to the count of four, exhaling. “Not much of a difference, to be honest.”

“It’s not her fault, you know.”

“I know,” I breathed.

“Then talk to her.”

“It’s not like that,” I mumbled.

Adam paused.

I stared at my feet. “I’m sorry, Adam.”

He squinted. “The fuck you sorry for?”

“You know.”

He waved his hand aside, brushing it off. “I’m not tripping. Talk to her. Before I do it myself.”

I forced a smile. “Maybe it’s better off that way.”

“Here,” he said, handing me a two-foot-tall bong and lighter from under the coffee table. “Take it.”

Couldn’t stay away. My fingers gripped the paraphernalia as he withdrew. My heart quickened as the impending drug interaction approached. When it reached my lips, I lit, then inhaled, holding to the count of four, and then some. Blurry feelings rushed my mind as states of sufferance gave way to sedated nebulas, teaching me forgetfulness.

#writers on tumblr #my writing #fiction #writers #writing #mood #vibe #original #original fiction

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lotuscorvus · 4 years ago

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Office life is fun.

Back in January I finally got up the nerve to approach my boss about a proper raise for the first time in 5 years. She seemed mildly surprised. Going by the company’s annual raise structure I had been well compensated over time.

The company’s raise structure is a scale of between 2-4% raise annually depending on performance. Which is uh... basically a cost of living raise. Passed off as an annual performance-based raise. Also I started out on a low-end beginners salary. We’ve had new hires who had recruiters to haggle starting salary for them that made more than me, despite me being their team lead with years of experience on them.

And like, I knew I had to be kind of on the low end of things. I’d accidentally started job hunting when I was trying to research current market rates for equivalent positions to mine, and I definitely knew I should be making more.

But my fucking gods was it still validating to have my recruiter AND her coworker literally gobsmacked at how underpaid I was. Right now they’re working on a lead for me where the LOWEST the recruiter is willing to go with the employer is still $11k (eleven FUCKING thousand) a year more than I make now. I almost choked.

Oh yeah, and did I mention my job decided not to do raises at all this year due to the decrease in business thanks to covid? And they made us use up all our PTO “in order to not lay anyone off”. They still laid some people off though. And more are leaving on their own thanks to a couple factors (the raise is a big one, and they’re really clearly hating that they have to let at least some of us keep working from home, among other things). They’re only finally trying to refill a couple positions, my team is on the verge of letting someone go for performance reasons, and I’ve been trying to leave for months now, lmao.

Also apparently our fucking HR person (who they never told us we had, and also made him take a desk in our OPEN-PLAN OFFICE instead of giving him one of the enclosed offices) is resigning, which just feels like a bad sign? I’ll admit a little of this is just me grumping because the office has grown and changed so much in the time I’ve been there, but also the upper management clearly has stopped giving any shits about their little money-generating cogs beyond the performative stuff they do to look good from the outside. Fun shit like weekly bagels during a highly-contagious pandemic and branded PPE swag.

I’m laughing though, because even if this current job lead doesn’t work out my recruiter is genuinely working hard to get me the hell out of here so its only a matter of time. Good odds on my being gone by the end of the year. Poor-performance coworker will only be kept on out of pity or desperation, she’s on the last of too-many chances to shape up already. And I’m the last of the founding members of my department, the only one who has a full grasp on how to do a handful of weird but necessary functions, and the only one who can spend all day in excel sheets without wanting to scream.

This is only a 4-person team. The other fully competent team member already sort of hates it here and is also terrible at unit cohesion/fostering a positive atmosphere (she’s good at the non-people parts of managing, but comes off as really condescending no matter how well-meaning she is). We work well as a team since she can be the bulldog chasing solutions to issues while I keep up the morale and most of the training, but I’ve already had previous team members tell me that if it weren’t for me to balance her out, they’d have quit way sooner than they did. Team member 4 is great, but new and honestly too good to stay here long. It may sound a bit big-headed but I have years of proof that I’m basically the fucking glue of this department. And yet I have a hard time imagining they’ll even try to give a counter offer if I put in my notice - and DEFINITELY not for 11k+ over what I’m making now. It already feels like the rest of the year is only going to get worse here, and if I can dodge that dumpster fire while getting a raise and better working conditions on top of it, fucking bonus (no joke, both my recent job leads are doing more covid prevention than this place is, even though we already had remote work capability and honestly most departments have 0 actual need to see each other in person, but the managers apparently feel like we aren’t really working if they can’t watch us like we’re fucking children).

#my life #ranting

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news-ase · 4 years ago

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andrewuttaro · 4 years ago

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State of the Support (S2-Ep.3): Boom

State of the Support is a reoccurring series on American professional soccer written from a fan perspective. This series will follow the ups and downs of Soccer Support in Rochester, NY and the surrounding region in one of its most trying times in decades.

American Sports have come back slower than European Soccer. COVID-19 has been largely brought under control in Europe while the pandemic continues to grow here in the United States. So far the most successful return-to-play plans from North American Sports have been those secluded within self-contained bubbles. First the National Women’s Soccer League came back to their bubble in Utah with the NWSL Challenge Cup. The first league back to the field demonstrated how it could be safely done.

After a tournament that did great numbers on broadcast and streaming considering how limited access to it was, the Houston Dash won their first title. With July came Major League Soccer’s return to the Field with a bubble in *checks notes* Orlando, FL. As of the writing of this blog the simply-named MLS is Back Tournament has also managed to limit spread of the virus in spite of their location. Two teams had to be jettisoned beforehand but they are now prepared to have a Final. NBA and NHL have also taken the bubble approach to their return-to-play and are *crosses fingers* doing well at this point. If MLB’s return to play has shown us anything: Bubbles are the safest option.

What if a bubble isn’t an option? While NISA held the first “Independent Cup” as if it was a special year regardless of the pandemic, USL Championship regionalized their clubs for an abridged season essentially functioning as a seeding tournament for playoffs they hope to hold in the Fall. On the amateur side it’s a whole different story. With the annual attention-driver of the Open Cup unofficially cancelled the NPSL essentially cancelled their season opting for a second Member’s Cup to include… a handful of teams they could get together for a few weeks. UPSL opted for an abridged season. I’ll save my opinion on all this for later.

That brings us to the ROC City Boom debut on the field… and a team named Berlin in Buffalo, NY.

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The UPSL began playing their Spring Season in July. With the precedent of the USL ecosystem deeming playing in markets outside a bubble as safe, UPSL decided they could follow suit. Similarly to the pro league, UPSL have passed along social distancing, limited capacity, and sanitizing procedures to their member clubs with the hopes of not becoming a negative headline themselves. All the while remember that one of the great super-spreading events in Northern Italy a few months back was a Soccer Game.

The ROC City Boom were doing all the right things to launch their team before the pandemic hit. They hit all the social media ques right for an amateur side. They even were somewhat interactive on social media during the quietest parts of the Lockdown here in New York State back in March and April. As May and June gave way to July the Pandemic has been largely brought under control in this State. The Boom, a new team in a new conference of UPSL, opted to come back given the conditions.

Their first three games back were road games against Binghamton, Utica and Syracuse. All three games were either draws or a loss for the Boom. Then the Boom came hope to Rochester Community Sports Complex (the name the City of Rochester gave to the Downtown Soccer Stadium after they kicked the Rhinos out). This past weekend the Boom shutout Syracuse 2-0 before going back to Syracuse the following day to beat them 4-1. The Boom boomed. Sorry, I had to.

A source who went to the Saturday home game said he felt comfortable doing so given the safety precautions. While my source who wishes to remain anonymous said concessions and seating were limited he said the gameplay was on par with the NPSL Rochester Lancers. Moreover single tickets are $8, a full seven dollars cheaper than a comparable ticket to a Rhinos game and two dollars cheaper than what the Lancers charged for a comparable ticket last summer before they started giving them away for free. The Boom have four more games on their schedule before August ends.

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Meanwhile UPSL’s new Western New York division looked for their own Boom in a world of coronavirus. Yes, they have brought teams back to their home markets, but they’ve also brought in another new team for a new division first announced in January. FC Berlin will come into UPSL next season playing at Sahlen’s Sports Park in the Buffalo suburb of Elma, NY. Why Berlin FC? Good Question.

The Berlin Football Academy is a Canadian Soccer Academy based out of Kitchener, Ontario. The organization was founded by former College Soccer star Santiago Almada whose hope is a UPSL team in Buffalo could be an asset to his growing organization. Almada wants his organization to truly have a pathway into the pro ranks and that starts with this UPSL squad. Gabriel Almada will coach the side while Juan Almada is the media director making this new team a family affair.

There are no quotes as to what Almada’s thoughts are on entering a market that has an NPSL amateur side in FC Buffalo and may have a professional USLC side in the years to come. What Almada is quoted as saying in the official league release is that he wants his UPSL team to become known as “…America’s Canadian Soccer team.” The side hopes to come in for UPSL’s Fall season.

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It’s hard to say anything new about the Rochester Rhinos situation since our last SoS column in June. It would appear that organization is fully content to sputter along in silence for the time being. If public opinion turns against leagues coming back outside the safety of bubbles they stand to dodge any negative press. For me personally I’d rather athletes, staff and others involved in sports not risk their lives for our entertainment. Even if a club’s survival depends on it I just don’t think its worth it in these crazy times. Bubble or not I’ll pay attention but don’t pretend to me that it’s the ethical thing. I can’t justify that for you.

That’s it for this State of the Support update. I’m always open to thoughts and insights @Pastagut on Twitter and right here at uttarosports.tumblr.com. I wouldn’t anticipate another column like this happening until well into the Fall unless something very notable on the Local Soccer front happens. Not only is there no Pro Soccer in upstate New York right now, there isn’t much sports at all. In the meantime, please stay safe.

Thanks for Reading.

#rochester rhinos #soccer #ROC #Buffalo #UPSL #USL #NWSL #MLS

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bermudaroad · 4 years ago

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Personal History: Summer of ’91

My kids Walker Roe and Clayton, ages 18 and 20, his girlfriend Adrian and their friends Reed, Shelby and Trevor spent the covid spring and summer of 2020 hanging out together, swimming, kayaking, watching movies, lamenting their lost semester and generally not following recommended guidelines for social distancing. Clayton was able to continue work while the rest finished spring classes online, which was a total bummer. With businesses and restaurants shuttered for quarantine, there hasn’t been much else to do. Walker and Reed had internships lined up that were cancelled. Adrian did some housecleaning and as soon as a few restaurants did open back up, she and Trevor, who both used to work at the pub, got part-time jobs. Reed cuts grass. The rest of their time is spent mostly at leisure.

In seeming unrelated news, Thomas, one of my oldest friends, became a grandfather last week. Because of covid, no visitors could go into the hospital, so when the baby was born, the new dad held her up to the hospital window and the grandparents all held up posters and signs of congratulations outside. It was shared on Facebook, so I sent Thomas a text. I could tell from his response how giddy he was. They didn’t get to actually hold the new baby for three or four days.

The quarantine, my kids’ spring and summer getting derailed and Thomas becoming Pawpaw got me thinking about the summer after our first year of college, back in Many, the summer of 1991. I spent that time mostly with a small group with whom I had been friends since first grade: Thomas, of course; Ginger who was home from school in Oklahoma, Jeff and Andy who, like Thomas and me had been going to Northwestern State, and Ginger’s brother Clay who had just finished 10th grade and had finally stopped being a complete jerk. Sometimes there would be one or two others, but that was the core group.

Except for Clay, we were 18/19 and had just got our first big kid jobs. Thomas and Jeff went to work at the mill in Florien, Gin got a job at the radio station and I was tellering at Sabine State Bank. I can’t remember what Andy was doing, probably working for his grandpa, and Clay, who was 16 and fast growing into a giant of a man, tooled around in his truck and worked out at the gym. We no longer had curfews and seldom felt the need to ask our parents for anything.

We were all single, too, which probably explains why our group was small and close.

Ginger had come home from Oklahoma unsettled. The previous Christmas, she had appalled her family by getting engaged to her long-time boyfriend Nathen, the same person who had been fooling around with our other friend Jamie behind Ginger’s back for most of the time they were dating. Ginger found out about it in the middle of our senior year which was pretty much wrecked after that, but she and Nate stayed together, even though neither was happy. Her parents had hoped that when she shipped out for Oklahoma and Nate left for LSU, things would fizzle between them, so their surprise engagement at Christmas 1990 was less than joyous. By February, Ginger had come to her senses. She mailed Nathen back his pitiful little ring and he decided to stay in Baton Rouge for the summer, thankfully bringing that awful drama to an end. Also, she had met someone new in Oklahoma.

Clay’s girlfriend Anna had broken up with him right after Prom. She was a classy girl, also a friend of ours, and she returned the jewelry Clay had given her, which Ginger divided up with me. Thomas and Jeff had recently split with the girls they dated through and beyond high school. Andy was always single, even though he carried a torch for Jamie for years. They were funny, affable guys and great pals.

I was fractured, too. My first love Patrick and I had outgrown each other and he had broken up with me in the spring, which was for the best, but I missed him terribly. He was already seeing someone else. I was on a mission to get over Patrick, lose the freshman 15 I had packed on and have fun with my friends – Thomas being chief mischief-maker and proponent of fun.

Riding around town, “making a drag” as we called it, wasn’t for us anymore as we tried to avoid our old flames, which was hard to do in Many. Most of our friends had significant others to absorb their spare time and several had jumped straight into adulthood, going to work in the oilfield, joining the military or getting married. We, on the other hand, aside from work responsibilities, could do pretty much whatever we wanted.

Often after work, we would meet up and go hang out somewhere on Toledo Bend, the long pier at Pendleton or my parents’ place down near Quiet Cove, to drink wine coolers and talk nonsense. Weekends we went swimming at LaNan or San Miguel and a couple of times Andy drove his grandpa’s barge across the lake to the cliffs on the Texas side where kids used to shinny up a frayed rope as thick as my arm to the top of the bluff and jump off. The boys listened to the Beasty Boys, N.W.A., Sir Mix-A-Lot and Color Me Bad (I wasn’t a big fan of any of it) and Ginger had discovered Garth Brooks. We went to our friends’ weddings, stayed out too late, crashed at each other’s houses, made it to work on time and irritated our parents.

There were some long serious talks, too, as we commiserated and sorted out our broken hearts. Clay even opened up about his lost love. It was a bonding period for Clay and Ginger who had spent most of their childhood fighting, and for he and I as well.

I hope my kids aren’t as stupid as we were and I’m eternally grateful that social media did not exist. One night – I don’t know what go into us - we got a wild hair and vandalized a dumpster with spray paint. Thomas and Jeff frequently made a contest of pitching empty beer bottles at road signs going 4/60 down the highway headed to the lake. Under a full July moon, Andy took us armadillo hunting at his grandpa’s farm. Riding four-wheelers and armed with .22s and homemade pipe bombs, we crisscrossed the pasture in the moonlight firing at will in the humid night that was thick with recklessness. Another time Thomas and I were headed to Natchitoches in his monster old Bronco when I told him I wanted to smoke a cigarette. Thomas habitually swiped packs of Marlboro Reds from the carton his dad kept on top of their fridge. He offered me a light and told me what to do. And so it was that I smoked the inaugural cigarette – the very first one -- in the drive-thru at Maggio’s, coughing and turning green and reveling in my rebellion. I even remember the music we were listening to: a cassette single of “I Wanna Be with You” by Pretty Boy Floyd. I don’t know why that detail has stuck with me.

At some point, Jeff and Andy both noticed charms about Ginger that had never been obvious to them before. This was typical of Andy but surprising for Jeff. Thomas and I were greatly amused. Jeff made the first move, asking Ginger on a date that Clay offered to chaperone. They went to see “King Ralph,” and the rest of us chased them down at Hardee’s after the movie. I remember gathering around Jeff’s white Dodge stepside in the parking lot and snickering because Gin was sitting next to him in the cab. We all knew it wasn’t going anywhere; it was just a lark. It wasn’t long before Ginger’s beau from Oklahoma couldn’t stand the separation anymore and hauled it down to Louisiana for a visit, which is how I met Brent and was maid of honor at their wedding a year later.

With Ginger unavailable, Andy turned his attention to me and was rebuffed again. But he wasn’t too disappointed.

As summers do, it went by in a blink and in mid-August, it was time to get back to business. Clay started two-a-days, Gin packed up for Oklahoma and I, who had starved myself down to a wafer, moved back to Natchitoches. Thomas and Jeff were supposed to commute together, but Jeff dropped out of school to work full-time. Andy transferred to LSU. Thomas fell in with my college buddies and we share those memories as well. It wasn’t our last summer of fun – we had a few more in store before adulthood really caught up with us.

Now we are in our late 40s – the summer of our lives. Thomas and Jeff still work together. They are deacons in their church, volunteer coaches and planners of wholesome youth activities. Ginger and Brent have been over in Nacogdoches for over 20 years and active in ministry in their community. Andy married a girl from Baton Rouge and lives on his family’s farm. Clay went on to play football at Louisiana Tech, but personal troubles have always dogged him, even unto today. I married a nice guy I met in journalism class and have lived in Natchitoches ever since. We have seen each other quite a bit over the years, most recently when Ginger and Clay’s dad died, an occasion marked by the same old sense of camaraderie, nostalgia and some measure of sadness.

It’s been a strange year, this spring and summer of covid. It’s nice to see Clayton and Walker spending quality time together. Interestingly, during the pandemic, Walker and her college friends have been writing old-fashioned letters and mailing them to each other, a true novelty for them.

It brings to mind the contrasts between the now and then. In 1991 we had no cell phones, no email, no Internet, no Netflix, no Twitter or Snapchat. Our parents had no idea where we were or what we were up to most of the time. We had to make plans and sometimes locate each other by that peculiar friend-radar teenagers used to have. We could buy alcohol and never wore seatbelts. Most blessed of all, youthful indiscretions were not splashed all over the social media, although I do have some lake photos boxed up on a high shelf. It seems like our freedom was much greater in many ways. Some things change and some things stay the same.

It’s hard to believe it was almost 30 years ago. Summers always go by too fast.

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katieobrien-untitled · 5 years ago

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Goodbye my left ovary,

I’ve been tossing and turning about sharing this for a while as I’m generally quite a private person, but I’ve had time to heal and process what I’ve gone through and I want to bring awareness to the fact that sometimes our bodies don’t work in the way that we expect them to.

The female reproductive system is something I’ve really taken for granted until now. It’s something incredible, so empowering and strong. I always assumed it just worked. The illustration I made is pretty self-explanatory – but yes, as of right now I only have one ovary.

In March I needed an emergency surgery to remove my left ovary, along with the fallopian tube and a large ovarian cyst.

The long story

In early January I noticed a solid like mass by my bladder. It was small enough to not notice visually, but concerning enough to make a trip to the doctor.

Being a young female, with a solid bump in their tummy everyone always assumes that you’re pregnant right? I mean at some points I thought I was myself. Every doctor I saw had their presumptions quashed by the negative reading that came back on the test every time, but this sparked some worry.

My doctor suspected that I had something on my ovary but to be sure, I was referred to take an ultrasound and take some blood tests. They discovered a large Borderline Cyst on my left ovary that spanned across my stomach and up to my left ribcage. At this point I had no idea what I was in for. My brain is wired to over-think everything and I did so for the next 4 weeks until my specialist appointment.

Ovarian Cysts are generally quite common, actually a lot more common than you'd expect, but I had never heard of them until I found out that I had one. There are various types, simple cysts that grow and disappear, and more complex ones. Instead of being a simple cyst that would go away by itself, my body developed the most complex ovarian cyst – called an Adnexal Mass / Borderline Tumour that specialists presume had been growing steadily for years and only recently moved out of my pelvis, making it noticeable.

It was like a ghost of a thing that was growing from inside taking all the spare space there was in my abdomen. Unbeknownst to me it was causing a range of symptoms that I never noticed that they were connected until my diagnosis.

I had irregular periods for years

I gained weight on the scales but hadn’t changed much physically

I was feeling nauseous all the time

I suffered from extreme fatigue

I had the urge to pee 24/7

I would get full from the smallest of meals

I couldn’t breathe deeply

I had a specialist appointment with a Gynaecologist on the 3rd of March. This is where we discussed my situation. The mass was so complex and large that the specialists suspected that it may contain pre-cancer cells. There was the bomb shell. Because of this suspicion they needed to remove the mass intact meaning that they needed to remove the ovary and fallopian tube along with it. To give you a sense of scale at this point, they suspected the mass was about 10cm x 13cm x 9cm, so they were lining up a C-Section like surgery to remove it. So it was pretty large to say the least. Obviously I was in shock, overwhelmed with emotion. We had a lengthy discussion about what would happen, the surgery and the long term impact that it would have on my health and fertility. I was scared but I knew what I was in for.

I was in for a 6-8 week wait for a surgery date. However, the surgery happened a lot sooner than expected. 4 weeks after that appointment I was experiencing excruciating abdominal pain and on the 24th of March I was referred to Middlemore Hospital’s ED by my GP. The timing of all of this was pretty good as the hospital was really quiet due to the start of Covid-19. I was in and the surgery was scheduled for the next morning at 9am.

The procedure & recovery

I had a Mid-line Laparotomy which is a pretty intense surgery. It is essentially a vertical incision that starts just blow my bikini line, to 2cm above my belly button, 18cm total. The surgeon initially planned to make the incision horizontally– like a C-Section, but the mass was a lot larger than they expected as it reached as far as my sternum. It had to be vertical to remove it safely. The surgery went well and everything was removed successfully, they took washings of my abdomen and sent away the cyst for a biopsy. I feel like the surgery was the easiest part…

Really I can’t remember much from the day of the op, and the day after, the anaesthetic took it out of me. I needed an epidural for pain management post op and I was bed ridden for two days. Ultimately I was exhausted physically and emotionally – and my body was trying it’s best to heal but I was so exhausted, weak and immobile. I had the epidural removed after the third day, to see if I could start walking again.

Eventually I got myself up and started walking, movements were slow and excruciating and so mentally challenging as I’m usually really active. I’m not really the one to take pain killers unless I really need to, but I was taking them every chance that I got. I struggled a lot with the pain, nausea, very low blood pressure, dizzy spells and fever post op. At some points the nausea was so overwhelming that I had to vomit. This is was the most excruciating pain that I’ve been in to date.

Nick wasn’t able to visit post op, as our government declared the Covid-19 level 4 lock down so he wasn’t allowed to enter the hospital at all during my recovery. It was a mental challenge being by myself. I gradually got better and I asked to go home after 5 days in the hospital by myself. Even though hospitals are such a daunting place to be in, I felt like I was in the best hands the entire time. The specialists, surgeons, anaesthetists, nurses and doctors that I was cared for by were incredible and I feel so fortunate to have received the care that I did.

At home I spent a lot of time in bed, asleep and I struggled to eat, move and shower. I felt crippled and reliant. Overall I lost 7kg, but I was improving. After a week I was able to stop taking pain killers, and now I’m fine! Just working on the healing of my scar.

My scar 2.5 weeks post op.

The Diagnosis

On the 15th of April I had a follow up appointment with the specialist to go over the operation notes and results of the biopsy. Unfortunately, they did find pre-cancer cells within the cyst, however they were contained and didn’t spill or spread into the rest of my body. The cyst was classed as a Stage 1C ovarian cancer – but because of the success of the surgery and the containment of the cells I don’t need to have any treatment.

Because of the existence of the pre-cancer cells in the cyst I’ll need to evaluate getting the right ovary removed too when I’m ready – for future proofing. For now I’m scheduled to have 6 monthly ultrasounds and bloods taken to monitor my right ovary to make sure it is healthy.

The cyst was a lot larger than the specialist initially thought. It was actually 21cm x 23cm x 13cm and weighed 3.3kg! Think of a 3L milk bottle, it was larger and heavier than that, in my abdomen, so you could imagine the pressure it would have had on my other organs. The specialist was astounded that it had got to this size without notice, as I’m generally quite fit and active.

Post op, the first thing I noticed was that I had never been able to breathe so well. Taking a deep breath was amazing.

My Future & Fertility

I’ve been in a long term relationship since I was a teen, and I’ve always wanted a family of my own. Nick and I have always discussed having a family, but it’s definitely not our time yet, we’ve just relocated to Auckland a year ago and we have a whole lot planned before all of that is on the cards. I see Friends of mine are having some beautiful babies and I know my day will come. Not now, but one day. With one ovary it is still possible and that gives me hope.

This whole experience has made me feel like I’d been taking my health for granted and expecting everything will just work. How wrong was I, to be honest the specialist said it was really just bad luck and there was nothing to really prevent it from happening the way it did, in reality there was no way that I knew it was there. My ovaries were something I took for granted, and now my remaining one crosses my mind at least once a day. I need to look after it like gold.

What interests me the most is women in New Zealand are encouraged to have breast screening and smear tests to screen for cancer and pre cancer cells – I knew this was a thing even as a child, but there isn’t really a campaign that I’ve seen that screams at you to see if your ovaries are ok. I want to know why because I really feel like I’ve dodged a bullet.

This was something that I never thought I’d have to go through. It’s not necessarily something that you’d expect to be told when you’re in your early twenties but here we are. Let’s say I’m not taking my health or fitness for granted again.

If you got this far thank you for reading my rambles!

I’m a thousand times better than I was, and I’m now 4 weeks post op and I’m past the dizzy spells, nausea and pain. My scar is healing and I’m able to walk daily – but I’m waiting for the 6 week mark to push myself more. I’m itching to go for a run and a swim to really test the space that my lungs now have.

There is obviously a lot of detail that I have left out of this, but if you’re curious or feel like you want to know more please ask. This is by no means an attention seeking post it’s to bring awareness, and also a method for me to heal and move past what I’ve been through.

Thanks for reading!

Katie x

#mywriting

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stephenmccull · 4 years ago

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Newsom Likes To ‘Go Big’ But Doesn’t Always Deliver

Gavin Newsom knew it was a political gamble when, as the newly elected mayor of San Francisco, he promised to eradicate chronic homelessness.

“I recognize that I’m setting myself up. I’m not naive to that,” he told his hometown newspaper in 2003 as he embarked on a campaign to sell his controversial plan. It hinged on slashing welfare payments for homeless people and redirecting those funds to acquire single-room occupancy hotels, converting them into long-term housing with health and social services.

“I don’t want to over-promise, but I also don’t want to under-deliver,” he said.

Over-promise he did, and the venture ultimately failed. But that pledge by Newsom — who at the time was a young, politically connected wine shop owner relatively new to public office — previewed a brand of political leadership on full display today as the first-term governor confronts an unprecedented public health emergency that has decimated the state’s economy and killed more than 4,280 Californians.

The COVID-19 pandemic has catapulted the 52-year-old Democrat into greater national prominence, winning him praise and voter support for taking decisive action to control the spread of infection in the absence of strong federal leadership.

But it has also exposed his penchant for making ambitious, showy announcements — often broadcast to a national audience — that aren’t necessarily ready for prime time. His plans regularly lack detail and, in some cases, follow-through.

“This governor wants to get a lot done even if all the details aren’t quite there yet. It’s uniquely his approach,” said Democratic strategist Dana Williamson, longtime adviser to former Gov. Jerry Brown. “He isn’t afraid to go big. The upside is establishing yourself as a real leader and, in the case of COVID, saving lives. But the downside is it doesn’t always work out quite perfectly.”

Newsom has a long history of pushing big ideas before they become popular, including legalizing gay marriage and recreational marijuana use, halting death penalty executions and expanding free health care for undocumented immigrants. Since his entry into public life, he has cultivated the image of a political risk-taker willing to buck the Democratic Party establishment. And although he has demurred, there is widespread speculation that Newsom has presidential ambitions.

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Since the start of the pandemic, Newsom has been praised by public health experts and Democratic strategists for making politically courageous decisions such as enacting the nation’s first statewide stay-at-home order, preventing widespread sickness and death. He has dramatically expanded hospital capacity while seeking to attack major problems as they erupt, from dire shortages of protective gear for hospital workers to inadequate testing in rural towns and poor, inner-city neighborhoods.

But as the crisis wears on, the list of Newsom’s unfulfilled promises is growing:

On April 7, he told MSNBC host Rachel Maddow that he had inked a deal securing “upwards” of 200 million protective masks per month, enough to “supply the needs of the state of California — potentially the needs of other Western states.” But nearly two months later, just 61 million surgical masks have arrived in California, while no higher-caliber N95 masks have been delivered, according to Brian Ferguson, spokesperson for the state Office of Emergency Services — despite Newsom’s promise that the deal included at least 150 million N95s. The $1 billion effort has been riddled with flaws, and the state so far has taken back nearly $250 million from the Chinese contractor, BYD Ltd. Co.

Later that month, Newsom announced a deal with Motel 6 that would provide thousands of rooms for homeless people in need of shelter. At least 5,025 Motel 6 rooms at 47 sites would open their doors to homeless people, “effective immediately,” should counties opt in, he said. But to date, just 628 Motel 6 rooms are open to homeless people at six sites.

Newsom also said in April that California must dramatically expand COVID-19 testing before it reopens to at least 60,000 — ideally 80,000 — tests per day. But the state still has not consistently reached 60,000 tests per day, even as it has allowed most counties to ease their stay-at-home restrictions.

In other cases, the governor has artfully avoided making specific promises. For instance, he has called the safety of nursing home patients and staff members a “top priority” without detailing plans, allowing him to dodge criticism even as more than half the deaths in California have occurred in long-term care facilities, according to state data.

Yet so far Newsom is showing strong support from Californians. Nearly 70% of likely voters say he’s doing a good job of handling the pandemic, according to a new poll released Wednesday by the Public Policy Institute of California. His overall approval rating has climbed by double digits since February, rising from 52% to 64%.

But his support could erode if the public begins to notice that his promises — and lofty rhetoric — do not match reality, said Mark Baldassare, president and CEO of the institute.

“People can be forgiving and give the governor the benefit of the doubt, but that can turn from positive to negative very quickly,” Baldassare said. “The risk is public opinion can shift very quickly if people get a sense that it’s not going well or according to expectations.”

Although Newsom himself has acknowledged criticism that the state is falling short on some fronts, his chief spokesperson Nathan Click defended the governor’s approach.

“When it’s your life or livelihood on the line, wouldn’t you want leaders who are moving aggressively to help people on every possible front?” Click said in a statement. “He’s not afraid to swing for the fences — especially in a time of massive need.”

Daniel Zingale, Newsom’s former chief adviser, who retired earlier this year, argued that the governor’s handling of the pandemic has saved countless lives while bolstering the social safety net for those at greatest risk of contracting the coronavirus.

“When you have a crisis like this that is unprecedented, there is no real playbook,” Zingale said. “I think Gavin Newsom was made for this moment. This is a situation where you want a governor who is high-energy, deeply earnest and prone to action rather than inaction.”

***

Newsom’s political career dates back to the late 1990s, when he was appointed to San Francisco’s parking and traffic commission by its then-mayor, Willie Brown. Soon thereafter, Brown tapped Newsom to fill an open seat on the San Francisco Board of Supervisors. Running as the incumbent in 1998, Newsom was elected that year to his first full term on the board.

During his early years in public life, he honed his approach to politics — aggressively seeking national media attention for first-in-the-country social and economic policies. In 2004, the year he took office as mayor, Newsom granted same-sex couples marriage licenses before it was legal, and in 2006 he signed into law the nation’s first universal health care program, which covered all city residents regardless of their immigration status or ability to pay.

Newsom, in his 2013 book “Citizenville,” described his leadership approach as “Ready, fire, aim.”

“I’m as proud of some of my failures in business and politics as I am of my successes,” he wrote. “Failure isn’t something to be embarrassed about; it’s just proof that you’re pushing your limits, trying new things, daring to innovate.”

Newsom believes strongly in setting “audacious goals,” even if he risks over-promising or alienating supporters, said Peter Ragone, who was press secretary for part of Newsom’s mayoral tenure.

“Gavin has always believed that if you show people you’re thinking big and trying hard, they will take that over timidity, even if you might fail,” said Ragone, who remains a close, informal adviser to Newsom and also advises New York City Mayor Bill de Blasio. “He wasn’t able to completely eradicate homelessness, but the voters were OK with that because they saw he was trying. Success doesn’t have to be an absolute policy triumph.”

***

Now Newsom is facing the biggest challenge of his political career, with several high-profile crises slamming California at once: A global public health emergency. Widespread civil unrest sparked by the killing of an African American man in Minnesota, George Floyd, at the hands of a white police officer, Derek Chauvin. Rising unemployment that could reach 30%. And another potentially devastating wildfire season.

The coronavirus pandemic, in particular, could have long-lasting consequences for Newsom’s future, said Dr. Leonard Marcus, co-director of the National Preparedness Leadership Initiative, a joint program of the Harvard T.H. Chan School of Public Health and the Harvard Kennedy School of Government.

“The politics of crisis leadership are high-consequence,” Marcus said. “For every political leader, a crisis like this is going to make or break their career.”

George Chin, 80, lived in a nursing home in Woodland, California, until April 22, when he died of COVID-19, according to his family. Chin died six days after he first complained of shortness of breath and spiked a high fever. (Courtesy of Simon Chin)

Davis resident Simon Chin has grown disillusioned with Newsom since the start of the crisis.

Chin’s father, 80-year-old George Chin, lived in Stollwood Convalescent Hospital in nearby Woodland. Chin regularly tuned into Newsom’s public briefings on the crisis to hear the governor say he was committed to preventing infections in nursing homes and protecting staff members and residents.

But infections in senior care homes continued to rise. And although Newsom has called for universal testing of residents and staffers, the state hasn’t provided the resources to make that happen, said Jason Belden, emergency preparedness director for the California Association of Health Facilities, which represents California’s roughly 1,200 state-regulated nursing homes.

State Health and Human Services Secretary Mark Ghaly said it’s the responsibility of nursing homes, not the state, to test.

“It’s not what we’re doing, and it’s, in our view, not feasible,” Ghaly said in an interview, noting that across the state, there are about 119,000 nursing home beds and about 90,000 staff members.

Newsom’s rhetoric at times has given the public a false sense of hope, said Dr. Michael Wasserman, president of the California Association of Long Term Care Medicine.

“When it comes to vulnerable older adults in California, all this governor has been doing is saying he’s going to act, he’s going to help them, but he hasn’t actually taken action,” Wasserman said. “People are dying because of it.”

Newsom’s reassuring statements during his public briefings made Chin feel like the state was doing more to prevent widespread infections, he said.

But Chin’s father died of COVID-19 on April 22. State records show 15 residents — roughly half of the nursing home’s capacity — died of the disease.

“We had no idea that there were such big problems in skilled nursing facilities based on what the governor was saying,” Chin said. “By the time we found out, it was too late.”

This KHN story first published on California Healthline, a service of the California Health Care Foundation.

Newsom Likes To ‘Go Big’ But Doesn’t Always Deliver published first on https://smartdrinkingweb.weebly.com/

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gordonwilliamsweb · 4 years ago