#i get to learn and do something new during the lockdown

[blackcoldcrackedheart]

For @v88sy

"Nothing beats a real 3 alarm fire, right Bobby?" Chimney joked as he and crew started to make their way out of the trucks.

They were covered in grime and soot after dealing with said 3 alarm fire at a shipping distributor. The fire took nearly 4 hours to put out, fortunately for the 118 they didn't lose anyone but a lot of workers were critically injured.

Despite the rough call, Bobby felt invigorated. It was only his fourth shift back as Captain but he felt like it was his first day ever as Captain. The same energy he felt decades before buzzed through his veins as he watched his team tiredly make their way to the showers.

"You guys did great." Bobby noted to his team, "Hit the showers and I'll whip something for us for a late lunch. We're off the roster for an hour."

Bobby was ready to hit the showers himself when he noticed a few folks were sniffing the air.

Bobby inhaled as well, face scrunching in confusion as he smelled something spicy but sweet.

"Unless we're all having a collective stroke, I smell barbecue." Eddie said excitedly, already running up the stairs to the loft, followed up by the others and Bobby.

Bobby half expected Athena to be up in the kitchen, but instead he saw a familiar 6' 2 frame standing over the oven.

"Tommy?" Buck was all smiles as he rushed over to his boyfriend, pulling in the man for a kiss and causing both men to laugh as the soot from Buck's face transfered over onto Tommy's face.

"What are you doing here, man?" Chimney asked, patting the other man on the back. Eddie pulled Tommy in for his own hug along with Hen.

Tommy shrugged, nudging his chin towards the multiple items on the stove top. "I heard about the massive fire you guys had to deal with. Figured I could come by and give Cap and Evan a break in cooking for you guys."

"Tommy, you didn't have to do all this." Bobby looked at the multiple dishes, "i know how busy the harbor team gets, you should be enjoying your time off."

Eddie had already opened the over and took a dramatic deep inhale. "And if in his time off he enjoys making us delicious barbecue, who's to say we shouldn't accept?" Eddie clapped his hands and rubbed them excitedly, "All this gonna be ready after we shower?"

Tommy laughed, catching how annoyed Buck was looking at Eddie. "Yeah, you guys go shower." He turned to Buck, "I got it from here."

Buck stepped closer, a playful smirk was all Chimney and Hen needed to see before declaring "No! No hooking up in the showers!' Chimney reminded the younger firefighter who only looked sheepishly over at fed up Bobby.

"We know that look Buck." Hen reminded him teasingly.

Buck let out a frustrated loud sigh as he pouted at Tommy. Tommy was all smiles though, he pulled Buck by his turnout coat and kissed him quickly.

"I'll be back." Buck promised as he followed the others down the stairs to the showers.

That only left Bobby.

"I didn't know you knew how to cook." Bobby mused as he watched Tommy start to pull out the larger serving dishes from the cabinets. Bobby was even more surprised that Tommy remembered where everything was still.

"Yeah," Tommy rummaged around the drawers for serving utensils, "Learned off and on over the years, picked up on cooking mostly during quarantine. I figured might be fun to learn new recipes during the lockdown so I got really into smokers and barbecue so..." he waved serving tongs over the trays of chicken and ribs. "Voilà, I guess." He laughed.

Bobby raised a brow, not at the food but at Tommy.

This definitely wasn't the same man who worked under Bobby years ago.

This Tommy was definitely more confident and self-actualized. There was an easiness to Tommy that wasn't there before.

Tommy caught him staring, "Foods gonna be ready in a minute Cap, go ahead and shower."

Before Bobby could respond Buck came running up the steps, freshly showered and in clean clothes.

It occurred to Bobby at that moment he had never seen either men smile that brightly before. Buck was looking damn near giggly as Tommy's eyes gave away on how gone Tommy was for Buck.

"Ready to help." Buck smiled bashfully as Tommy pulled on a still wet curl hanging over Buck's forehead.

"God, you're cute."

That was Bobby's cue to leave.

By the time Bobby came back the loft, the food was already dished out and the crew was already seated. Bobby figured the cheers was more so about the team being finally able to eat rather then Bobby finally sitting with them

Eddie was the first to go at the food. "Buck," Eddie's eyes were all stars as he grabbed at everything, already drooling. "You should know, if you and Tommy were to break up, he gets me in the divorce. Ankles be damned."

"Me too." Hen moaned as she started to eat. "Tommy, where the hell did you learn how to make this?"

As Tommy and the others started to talk about cooking, Bobby caught Chimney’s sad smile.

"You good Chim?"

Chimney nodded, looking wistful as he told Bpbby in a low voice. "I guess I just realized how stuck Tommy was back in the day." Chimney took a moment to stare at Tommy who was whispering something to Buck that had the other man turn bright red and laugh, the reaction had Tommy looking all too pleased.

"Gerrard used to bug him about bringing over his girlfriend over so she could cook for us. Tommy would make a bunch of excuses about why his girlfriend never showed to the station or to the bar after work."

Bobby nodded, understanding where Chimney was going with this.

After dinner Bobby insisted that Tommy let the others clean up, with Buck pushing his boyfriend to sit and relax with Bobby.

"You're good for him." Bobby told Tommy in a matter of fact voice.

Tommy looked taken back, Bobby caught the flicker of worry and something else that was too familiar for Bobby. That certain fear of not being enough.

"You honestly think so?" Tommy asked softly, his eyes following Buck around the kitchen.

Bobby didn't want to jump to conclusions or anything, but he knew love when he sees it.

"I know so." He patted the younger man on the back. "It's nice having you back here, Tommy."

Tommy's smiled bashfully towards the ground before looking up. "It's nice being back, honestly." He promised.

Bobby clapped him on his back, "Good."

[meyhew]

“WHAT WE MOURN FOR THE DEAD IS THE LOSS OF THEIR HOPES.”

I never thought I’d make this post. Any time I imagined a One Direction member dying, I pictured myself weathered and grey. This was an eventuality that wasn’t supposed to be actualized until the boys and I had lived full lives. To have to come to terms with Liam’s death—his perpetual absence moving forward—in my mid twenties feels absurd. I wrote a long thing the day after I found out, so I’ve already gotten some thoughts out. I’m going to try and keep this short. I likely won’t succeed.

Liam was kind. If he’s remembered for anything, I hope it’s that. I know he helped out with food banks in London during lockdown because there were photos of him packing boxes, but I didn’t know until now how much money he gave them. £80,000 without any publicity. And it wasn’t a one-time donation. He kept working with various orgs to help food insecure people. In the week leading up to that unfortunate Wednesday, he gave away thousands to fundraisers—primarily set up to help people with severe illnesses. He’d been part of Soccer Aid for years. He was involved with anti-bullying campaigns. He worked with Rays of Sunshine to make hundreds of sick children happy. Over the years, he also donated to nonprofits that help children in Gaza and other places. The T-shirt he designed for Choose Love has garnered nearly £200,000; Choose Love has been working with the Palestine Children’s Relief Fund and Medical Aid for Palestinians to provide desperately needed aid in Gaza. Liam understood the value of his wealth, and what his social responsibility was. He did his part to make this world better.

All that without taking into account everything Liam did for us. The youtube videos he started during quarantine because it was a way to distract people, give them something to look forward to. His comedic timing was something special. The discord server where he talked to fans and highlighted their creative endeavors. His livestreams, the endless culture-defining tweets he made. I still see people laughing about his tweets. We all remember Mrs. Horan, yes? I mean, go all the way back to TwitCams. Just google the phrase and one of the first videos you get will be Liam’s. From day one, he took it upon himself to make sure the fans were happy. That we felt seen, heard. And he kept One Direction alive for us, on occasion at a great personal cost. He performed deep cuts we’d never seen sung live, he was always so enthusiastic about everyone else’s projects, he never shied away from talking about the band—because it made us happy. He knew what the band meant to us, the blend of hope and nostalgia many of us clung to, and he held on with us. For us. The masses ridiculed him for his clinginess, and he didn’t let go—for us. I’m sure he knew there are those of us for whom the name One Direction still means everything. And how right he was. Look at the global charts for the past two weeks. We’ve made history again. Because of Liam. He had been the glue holding a lot of the fandom together, whether people realized it or not. He brought us all together again in the most heartbreaking of ways.

One Direction came into my life at a time when I was becoming lonelier by the day. I had moved to a new country two years prior, and I didn’t yet have many friends because I knew only enough English to get by at school. Outside of school, I had no friends. They were all back home in the place I’d left. All I had was my two siblings—and when you’re 13 years old, your 14 yr old sister is hardly the person you want to spend all your time with. I didn’t have space for me, to do and to be something that was just mine.

Then I found 1d through a girl at school and they became that something for me. I bettered my English by watching them talk. I found this community because of them, and I have learned so much from being a part of it. So many wonderful people have touched my life because of them over the years, some I’ve fallen out of touch with and some I hung out with just this month. They—and, by extension, Liam—have made me wealthy in friendship.

Claudia, Ingrid, Mery; Thank you for putting up with my insanely specific demands and making headers for me. Ingrid, you’ve been so patient about teaching me how to gif. Mery, I still have your rec list for learning Spanish saved in my notes app. The TPWK print you gifted me hangs on my wall. Cloudy, do you remember that lineart you made of me? I still have it. You’ve all been so kind to me.

Rafa; You have no idea how much you’ve helped build my confidence as a writer. Lyab is a thing of the past now, but those hours you spent fleshing out the details of that fic are priceless to me. I’d never written anything so ambitious before. And, frankly, I don’t think I would’ve attempted a novel if I hadn’t written a 100k fic—which I couldn’t have done without your encouragement. I think this is my first time telling you I finished the first draft of my novel in September. Thank you <3

Yas; Beloved you are so dear to me. You have shown me such kindness over the years, at times I wondered what I had done to deserve it. Not many people check in with me the way you do. I value your presence in my life beyond words. You have so much love and affection to give, and I’m glad I get to receive so much of it.

If I wrote a personal note to everyone who’s in my life because of Liam we’d be here for hours and hours. Jess, Bella, Alex, Jack, Hayley, Hope, Soni, Kayla, Sara, Arsh, Tina, Ola, Cristal, Kylee, Hana, Ali, Antonise, Clare, Abby, Nina, fnh, mert, people I don’t follow anymore, everyone who’s come into my life because of liam—I love you. Literally every single person I follow should be named here because I wouldn’t even be on this website if it weren’t for 1d. You’re all so special to me.

I still can’t believe Liam is gone. I was at the grocery store and it hit me that it’s real, and I thought, no, there’s no way. It feels so fucking weird having this invisible hole in my life that’s never going to go away. But I’ll always be grateful for everything Liam brought into my life. I know I’ll grow old with a whole bunch of you in my life—I’ve already spent a decade with some of you in my life—and I wish Liam got to grow old and weathered with us all.

This is such an inadequate goodbye. I think I’ll keep coming up with things I wish I could tell Liam, or things I want to say to you all. There’s so much history here, so much to reminisce about. He took a piece of my adolescence with him. I’ll miss him forever. Too many of my memories are intertwined with him and I’ll miss him forever.

Sleep easy, Liam. I hope, in time, you’re remembered for your limitless capacity for love and your desire to do better, be better. You deserved more. 🤍

—————

tagging 1d people here because i know many blogs aren’t active on a regular basis. apologies if i missed someone (i’m sure i did). hugs for everyone

@1dclowns @hrrytomlinson @sandiazucar @fookinfreezin @hoeranghae @wlwmermald @tomlinsun @epubgf @heyangel @fireproofs @90sgrungelouis @lirry @iconichalo @itsnotreal @aquickstart @roguecurls @harryscuddles @hoteyelinerguy @babyy-honey @goldencereza @kindathoughtprovoking @kindofsharethat @fuchsiasea @queerbloodyangel @tofiveohfive @aboutmetamorphosis @wastelandbabyblue @delicatepointofview @twentybiqueen @girlcrushau @chaoticsue @chimnation @akasakasads @icouldbeluckyagain @alloutshirt @half-lightl @halohamilton @willowfey @meltedwings @softandslow @loustyles @onedirectiom @pop-punklouis @pridesobright @finexbright @femstyles @baawree @iamnathanscott @avocadolouie @userautumn @niallerer @itsnothesameasitwas @usignedupforthis @svpportive @svncourt

[prettyboysdontlookatexplosions]

the thing about Getting Involved In Your Community is i think, based on my own experience, it’s easy to think of it as an “eating your vegetables” type thing that you know you should do, or feel like you’re supposed to do, because it’s Good and Right. you want to be the kind of person who does it. and perhaps as a result times like these filled with people talking about Getting Involved In Your Community can feel like a lot of pressure in an already stressful time. like a call to do more when it feels like you’re already doing all you can. and i am not interested in arguing with anyone’s assessment of their own lives in that regard. but i do just want to say because i have not seen this expressed a lot and i think it’s worth hearing if you haven’t that volunteering and getting involved in my community has been maybe the best thing i have ever done for myself on a completely selfish level as measured solely by its impact on my own personal mental health and quality of life. i didn’t know that was going to be true before i did it and maybe it isn’t true for everyone. but for me and i have to believe for at least some other people who haven’t had a chance to learn this wonderful news yet, it is just unparalleled in terms of effort expended for good feelings created for me to feel in my own head. (and fwiw this was also true like almost immediately even before i found the sort of “niche” i have settled into with its attendant routine and social circle lol. like the first time i did a grocery delivery route during lockdown i felt like i had taken a party drug.) i am not telling you to eat your vegetables, i am cheerfully and without pressure or judgment recommending a restaurant i like a lot and strongly suggesting you get the roast broccoli as a side because it’s one of the best things i’ve ever tasted. the fiber and vitamins are just a bonus wholly irrelevant to the reasons you should order it. up to you! we all have our Things and preferences! but, yknow, i just think it’s a natural human tendency that if something is Good it’s probably also not, like, good, iykwim, but some things, like roast broccoli, are both! and i would just hate for anyone to miss out on learning they love roast broccoli because they’re assuming it can’t be good for you and also rock.

[zahri-melitor]

Not that I would ever write a Titans Tower fic because of so many reasons but, if we gently massage the timeline just a lil bit here I can make such a better set of starting conditions than your average fic. That actually, you know, recognises when the story is set.

Teen Titans #29 is a December 2005 story, the same month that Dick agrees to work with Slade to train Rose (and proceeds to 'train' Rose as a villain by pointing out all the ways she needs to learn how to fight against the various members of the Society of Super Villains for the inevitable occasion they betray her dad. Oh Dick. You are so bad at being a villain. Anyway). The following month Roy shows up to go "what are you DOING DICK" at the request of Oracle and Dick kicks him around a bit in Nightwing #114.

But what if we shift events in Nightwing just a little forward, ahead of Teen Titans.

So then we can have this Roy-Dick-Rose are fighting Venom-pumped mooks fight scene...and Roy gets an emergency override from Oracle in his ear, letting him know that Titans Tower has gone into lockdown for some reason, setting off an alert.

Now, Mia's on the Teen Titans at this point. So Roy freaks out because Mia's supposed to be there and tells Dick who ALSO FREAKS OUT because the first information about the lockdown Oracle passes along has some detail about the alert giving very bad vibes (hinting that it's one of Jason's codes or something like that, or Tim's managed to set off a distress call or why am I overthinking this, it's a Titans Tower fic).

And Dick (still dressed as Ravager, I might add) turns around with Roy to go storm the Tower and figure out what has gone on, telling Rose "you wanted practice being bad? We're going to go break into Titans Tower".

And given it's Roy and Dick, they are immediately in agreement that they take Rose with them for a fun and educational trip (also Rose knows how to sneak around the Tower just as well as anyone, she's lived there before too while she was Lian's nanny, even though she's recently had her mental breakdown and stabbed out her eyeball an extra body who knows how the Tower works is helpful right now).

So the upshot of this and Dick using his very not-supposed-to-be-used JL transporter codes he nicked off Bruce, probably assisted by Dinah given she's an Actual JLAer at this very point in time and standing right next to Babs during all of these shenanigans, is that Jason Todd, in full weeb 'I'm not having a tantrum about no longer being Robin, honestly I'm not' costume turns around from fighting Tim and bearing down on him is a chick in what looks like a Deathstroke costume knockoff, a creepy red vigilante he's never seen before, and a fuming mad Roy Harper.

We go from there. Jason is having a very bad day.

There's also this angle where Dick's just been explaining to Rose exactly how bad news Talia al Ghul is almost immediately before all of this occurs, so if you want some dramatic irony there is another line to exploit...

[sitp-recs]

hello! do you know drarry fics where draco goes to prison for part of the fic or is just gettingout of prison? thank you so much1 you are a superstar

Hi anon! I do know a couple of prison fics, listed below. You might also enjoy this list with fics in which Harry takes Draco in. Happy readings!

Litany by thistle_verse (M, 7k)

With the wizarding world on lockdown due to a magic-draining pandemic, Harry is stuck in Grimmauld Place, bored and alone—until the ghost of Draco Malfoy shows up to haunt him.

Death Dreams by @writcraft (E, 9.5k)

Draco likes to keep things casual, or at least he did before Harry Potter barged back into his life.

any day now by @oknowkiss (E, 17k)

Draco supposes he should be grateful. The rehabilitation centres were the Minister’s idea, or that’s what the Prophet said anyway. Their stated objective is simple: to provide a safe space for low-tier Death Eaters and high-tier sympathisers to reconsider the entirety of their life choices.

One Thousand Bars by @lqtraintracks (E, 19k)

And I will hold on hope / And I won't let you choke / On the noose around your neck / And I'll find strength in pain / And I will change my ways / I'll know my name as it's called again

Vortex by @xanthippe74 (T, 20k)

Ten years after that conversation, the idea of perfectly-matched soulmates feels more like a curse than a blessing to Draco. Who would want a soulmate who was a schoolyard bully, a Death Eater, and a convicted felon? Certainly not Harry Potter. And Draco is determined to take this secret to the grave.

Collapse Amongst the Dying Stars by Writcraft (M, 26k)

After the final battle nothing is quite as Harry expected. Death Eaters remain unaccounted for, Malfoy is in prison and there is something rotten in Azkaban. Banned from assisting the Aurors, Harry keeps himself busy with regular visits to Malfoy and works to bring light to the darkness of 12 Grimmauld Place.

Fearful Trill by @vukovich (E, 29k)

Harry should have come out and met someone when he was younger. He should have seen a doctor about the pain in his hip while youth was still on his side. Now, he's made his peace with dying young, but maybe not with dying alone.

At Evening's End by manixzen (E, 31k)

When the dementors are removed from Azkaban, a compromise has to be made for the prison to remain secure and wizard-kind to feel safe. Harry and Ron find themselves assigned to a rotation as guards during their first year as Junior Aurors as a part of the new system. Harry finds his values challenged in the harsh environment, but an unexpected friendship may carry him through this difficult year.

On One's Knees by pir8fancier (E, 34k)

The war is over and to the victors go the spoils.

The World Starts Here by @bafflinghaze (T, 63k)

Three years in Azkaban is more than enough time for Draco to be certain that he doesn’t want to be like his parents. And the moment he gets out, Draco will make his own mark on the world and he’d do it single-handedly if necessary.

The Azkaban Letters by @romaine2424 (E, WIP)

Harry and Draco’s lives are headed in two different directions. One is destined for death or glory, while the other is going to Azkaban. Harry needs answers, and he goes to visit his Slytherin nemesis while being held for trial. The meetings in a barren, white cell changes Harry’s life. He learns the beginnings of his rich family history that had been denied him. And that there's much more to fight for than just ridding the world of Voldemort. HBP compliant.

[specialagentartemis]

Getting Involved In Your Community: A Guide For If You Don't Know Where To Start

I've seen several back-and-forths on tumblr that boil down to "media consumption is not activism; if you want to do activism, go volunteer or get involved in local politics." I agree, but also understand that it can feel daunting to try. Especially when you don't have a lot of money to donate places or know anybody who's organizing things! I definitely get it. But I also agree that volunteering is valuable - not only does it make you feel good, like you've accomplished something meaningful, it gets you out of the house and meeting new people in a structured environment. It helps you get to know the people in your community, and what's going on in your town or city.

There are LOTS of ways to do this! You don't need to already know people, or have organizing skills of your own. Finding something that works for you can be really rewarding, and it doesn't have to be difficult.

Food Pantries, Food Banks, and Soup Kitchens

The obvious one, but it's obvious for a reason: people always need food, food pantries always need volunteers, and nearly every town or city has one nearby. They're frequently easy to find by googling. It's immediately rewarding knowing you materially helped someone and if it's something you do (or have in the past or may in the future) need too, it's good to get to know the people. There are volunteer needs available all throughout the week, and rarely require knowing any particular skills in advance. During much of COVID lockdown I helped unload food deliveries every Tuesday and put them on the food pantry shelves, for example.

If nonprofits make you leery or there are only aggressively Christian ones nearby, see if there's a local chapter of Food Not Bombs, a more anarchist-leaning network that provides vegetarian foods to people. They frequently need volunteers for things like cooking, setup, dishwashing, food pickup, or cleaning out a free community refrigerator.

Everyone needs food and these are the most immediate and most common type of volunteer opportunities around.

Environmental and Conservation Groups

You probably have a park, pond, creek, wetland, or some other natural space near you, and that space almost certainly has some environmental group that maintains it. Start by searching "Friends of [park name]" or "citizen science [town]". Look for invasive plant removal, trash pickup, or native plant planting events - these are pretty common and open to new volunteers without specialized knowledge.

There may also be related community gardens! Search for "[Town] community garden" to see what's available. Some places also have nonprofit groups dedicated to saving, preserving, maintaining, and planting native crop/wildflower seeds.

Refugee Support

Many cities have refugee support organizations. A lot of the services they offer require specialized skills (like language or legal knowledge) or long-term commitments, but they can also involve things like picking people up from the airport or driving them to important appointments. If this is something important to you, search up "[city] refugee support" and email them to ask what they need!

Local Library

If you want something more book-related, see if your local library wants volunteers, or if it has a "Friends of the Library" group. Library volunteers help keep a lot of tasks running that the often underfunded staff might otherwise not get a chance to do, like reshelving books or adding self-checkout RFID tags to the whole book collection (this is what I did in high school), and the Friends of the Library does things like sort through book donations, and help fundraise for the library.

Local Cable Access TV Station

Does your town/city have a local cable access tv station - that is, they film and broadcast local events to local cable channels? This is an amazing way to learn, and use, A/V skills for the benefit of your town! For years throughout high school and college, I helped to film town council meetings, committee meetings, town election debates, various other town events, and high school football games, in addition to other shows - in high school some friends and I made a kid-friendly after-school science education show. Stations like these are almost always on the lookout for new things to broadcast, too, so if you want to do a monthly broadcast of local art exhibits or queer events or community garden updates or a vegetarian/vegan/low-budget/low-spoons cooking show, or a socialist talk show (who knows!), see if that's something that's available to you! Or you can volunteer to transcribe their shows for closed-captions.

Local Historical Society

Does your town have a historical society? Odds are they have lots of things they'd love to do and very little money. If you're interested in local history, get in touch with them and see if there's something they want volunteers to help with. In college I transcribed a lot of Revolutionary War-era letters. (I also made a documentary about my town's history that aired on the local cable access TV station and I had to fight with the town historical society over being able to use their photos, so. You know.)

Politics and Activism

Find out when your town council meets, or any particular committees that discuss topics important to you (sustainability, education, transit, police, affordable housing, etc). Your town/city will likely have a dedicated town government website with this information. Show up and ask questions.

Calling your elected representatives is also always valuable, and the trick is, the more local they are, the more likely they are to listen to you.

Google "[topic] advocacy group [town]" - LGBTQ, police abolition, climate justice, education, etc. See if there are already groups doing the things you care about. They will likely love new people showing interest.

"Town Day," Farmer's Markets, Town Festivals, or Other Events

Every fall, my town has a "town day" where different local businesses, artists, schools, and groups have booths and events all throughout downtown. This is a great place to learn about different nonprofits and advocacy groups who are looking for volunteers. This is true for a lot of these types of events. Browse the booths and see if there's any group you didn't know about before whose mission speaks to you, and ask if they're looking for volunteers. This is how I discovered a local group that harvests and then donates fruit, herbs, and nuts from plants in people's yards and municipal plots that would otherwise get ignored and go uneaten. They're small, they're great, and the work is outdoors, active but not strenuous, and fulfilling, and I get to take home some fruit afterwards.

Generally, volunteering means you can either donate your money, skills, or time, and it's up to you to decide what you have available to donate. But actually getting out there and meeting people helps give you reasons to get out of the house, a few hours off the internet, a sense of fulfillment, and greater connection to other people who are doing things you care about or who know who is. Don't try to do everything - just pick something that speaks to you and fits into your schedule, and go from there.

[bimir]

it's not something strange or unique to say that after the last haikyuu movie, most of us got into it again, but at the same time, I know for sure that I'm not the only one who benefits the most from this re...union.

I went to see the haikyuu movie alone, and at first, it didn't hit me that much. maybe it was because I couldn't help but wonder how much I would have enjoyed it with my best friend, but we are grown-ups now and long distance.

after a couple of days, the internet was full of haikyuu content again, just like during lockdown, and because of that, I also got into it again and realized how much of a masterpiece it is.

haikyuu is well known, but in my opinion, it is underestimated and categorized by others as just a silly volleyball-sport anime. it saddens me so much that there are so many people who will never get to embrace this piece of art.

Furudate not only created a coming-of-age story, a story that inspired and still inspires generations to fight for their dreams, to engage in the complex mess of relationships, teamwork, and partnerships. haikyuu teaches you that if you really do have a dream, and if you are really ambitious, if you work hard for it, your time will come too. but it also teaches you that not choosing to be great is not a tragedy; your dreams of what a good life means can be different from the ideals of others: "life is unfair, but damn it, at the same time, it is really fair too."

so why did I go on writing about this? because I can't comprehend how haikyuu manages to be there for me at the best time—or the worst, better said—how it really took its "comfort anime" title seriously for me. I started haikyuu in my last year of high school: extremely stressed, depressed, and anxious, so scared of what the upcoming end would mean for me that I'd tricked myself into living by coming to the conclusion that I'd simply not make it to 18 if I didn't see a future for myself. it seemed only fair and the universe would do its thing, no? I know, kinda depressing and triggering, but it did help that miserable me then, it did help but not in the way I prayed it would. the universe didn't send me "death," it sent me life and hope through haikyuu. feeling so empty, so bland for such a long time, haikyuu managed to make me laugh and cry. it doesn't sound like much, but real ones know what I'm talking about. seeing their connection, their ambition, the troubles and feelings I was so desperate to put into words right in front of me saved me from my misery. I began to wish to live, to wish to be like them, to wish to fight, to wish to connect again with people.

now, after almost 4 years, I'm in my last year of uni. the main reason for my depression back then in high school was because I didn't know what to do with my life, what uni and career to choose. hell, I didn't know I would take this path until last autumn, but here I am, on my way to becoming a teacher. it's hard, really hard, but right now, after the new movie, I finally committed to start and finish the manga even though I knew bits and pieces of what happens. it was the best time to read it now. over these 3-4 years, I pondered why I couldn't start getting into the manga and see for myself what happens, but damn it was the best time to read it now. seeing them go all out on their path, learning that in order to succeed you need to fight and fight and fight, to push through, to overcome your limits, to push yourself, to not take it easy if you really want it, came at the best time as I got into a slump and a burnout from learning too much but also not learning enough. I've got to see all of the characters continuing to be pros while fighting for their way, but also choosing to let go of something they once loved in order to live a normal life.

haikyuu is like a reminder that there is more to life than just your high school/childhood years, that your path could take a 180-degree turn at any point, but at the same time, it makes you appreciate those times and not want to sweep your childlike wonder, your growth, and mistakes under a rug. Furudate was a genius for creating haikyuu, and I really hope and pray that haikyuu will continue to be there, to comfort and save future generations until the end of time.

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | December 25th-31st 2023

Happy New Year everyone! May 2024 be better than 2023, and may season 7 be good to us!!!

Complete

Battle Born by allisonRW96/ @homerforsure (NHL AU, Established Buddie | 11K | Teen): Buck comes down with appendicitis during the playoffs. He decides to play through it.

🔥 through tooth and claw (to where you are) by allisonRW96/ @homerforsure (Post-S6, Hurt Buck, Getting Together | 18K | Teen): With a reverent hush, Christopher said, “Whoa, it’s so close.” And it was almost as though Buck needed to have that obvious fact pointed out to him before the vague dread of animal instinct that had been pooling in his stomach could solidify into a real, actionable fear. It’s so close. Something’s wrong. AKA: The Rabid Coyote fic

we’ve got something permanent (i mean in the way we care) by callmenewbie/ @callmenewbie (PWP, Breeding Kink | 7K | Explicit): Buck has baby fever and it’s Eddie’s job to give him what he wants. Kind of.

Here Where We Should Be (Kiss Me, It’s Christmas) by allisonRW96/ @homerforsure (Christmas, Getting Together | 5K | General): It’s Christmas and Eddie decides he can’t possibly wait any longer to start kissing Buck.

well, I hate to be a bother, but it's you and there's no other by allisonRW96 / @homerforsure (Getting Together | 3K | Mature): Eddie starts dating again and learns a few things about himself. The most surprising one? He's actually ready this time. Now he just needs to get Buck on board.

in a little while (you will find some relief then) by allisonRW96 / @homerforsure (Hurt Buck | 10K | Teen): Buck gets a severe case of poison oak. He handles it about as well as you'd expect.

🔥 The Nearness of You by allisonRW96/ @homerforsure (Work Trip | 17K | Teen): Eddie reassured himself that he could do this. Other teams coming in were probably going to be staying at the same hotel in the same double rooms and it was very possible that none of them were going to be having sex. Or even lying awake at night thinking about it.

We Can't Succeed but We Love Trying by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (PWP, Breeding Kink | 15K | Explicit): In which Eddie has the thought that if Buck's gonna "donate" his sperm anywhere, it should be with, well. Eddie.

all it took was a backwards baseball cap by honestlydarkprincess/ @honestlydarkprincess (PWP, Getting Together | 5K | Explicit) : Or, the one in which Eddie loses his shit at Buck wearing a backwards baseball cap. Seriously, can this man get more attractive? Is he trying to kill Eddie?

drawstrings by browney3dgirl6/ @hoodie-buck (PWP, Getting Together | 3K | Mature): Eddie helps Buck fix his drawstrings. How was he supposed to know it’d lead to him sitting in Bucks lap?

🔥 come with me, together, we can take the long way home (series) by allisonRW96/ @homerforsure (Canon compliant | 105K | T to M):

Get me through the night; Make me feel alright (Post-S3 Finale | 11K | Mature): After an emotionally-gutting reunion with Abby, Buck turns to old coping mechanisms. Eddie helps him find a better way. In Uncertain Times, The Uncertain Rules Apply (Pre-S4 | 22K | Teen): Covid comes to LA. Eddie copes. Or doesn't. Holding out for Something More (Stuck in Reverse) (Post S4E3/Lone Star Crossover | 26K | Teen): LA is coming out of lockdown and the world is returning to some sense of normalcy. But going back to the way things were hurts more than Buck expected. While his therapist challenges him to confront what he really wants, the team takes a trip to Austin... and El Paso. so far from being free (S4E4: 9-1-1 What's Your Grievance?, S4E5: Buck Begins | 46K | Teen): That’s Daniel. He was our brother. Buck doesn’t know what to do with the past tense. He never had a brother. He’s always had a brother. He gained one and lost one in the same breath and it feels impossible.

carry my heart home to you by allisonRW96/ @homerforsure (Getting Together | 4K | Teen): After his parents join him for a therapy session, Buck starts to learn that some people are never going to be able to give you what you need. And some people are.

if you say it with your hands by hammersmiths/ @henswilsons (S2 | 10K | Teen): Buck thinks it must be a habit he still hasn’t dropped from his days in the army, or maybe it comes with the territory of being a dad – but Eddie can nap pretty much anywhere. or, Eddie starts casually falling asleep against Buck, and Buck is very normal about it.

🔥 into thirty separate parts by hammersmiths/ @henswilsons (S6 | 12K | Teen): “Theoretically,” says Buck, as soon as Eddie picks up the phone, “your ex writes a book about you.” There is a pregnant pause. “…Right,” Eddie decides on, finally. or, Taylor’s book comes out.

close friends (that you lowkey want to fuck, but in a totally platonic way) by rowan_wood/ @transboybuckley (Getting Together | 2K | Teen): Instagram rolls out a new feature, and Buck doesn't totally understand how it works.

I'm still standing in the same place where you left me standing by trysetmeonfire/ @try-set-me-on-fire (POV Bobby, Hurt Eddie, Getting Together | 8K | Teen) Bobby deals with the ramifications of a misplaced confession

Keep My Heart Warm In Yours by callmenewbie/ @callmenewbie (Christmas, Post-S6, Getting Together | 18K | Mature): Christopher decides that he wants to go skiing, Buck makes it happen and the cabin at the foot of the mountains turns out to be quite the romantic backdrop for their little getaway.

Hiding the Christmas Present (of You and Me) by Princessfbi/ @princessfbi (Christmas | 7K | General): Buck thought he was going to spend Christmas alone. His family decides to correct that assumption.

If I Fall, Can You Pull Me Up? by Princessfbi/ @princessfbi (Hurt Buck, Established Buddie | 7K | General): Eddie could pick Buck from a million miles away. Buck’s entire being was like one bright light in an otherwise cloudy sky. So, he was really interested to know why some stranger was wearing his boyfriend’s turnout coat and pretending to be him.

Used to Think That Lovin' Meant a Painful Chase by Princessfbi/ @princessfbi (Getting Together | 4K | Teen): It’d been fine when Buck had Eddie’s dick in his mouth. It wasn’t often that Buck got to see Eddie come undone but he’d been treated to a private showing and the pride he had being the one to take Eddie there was indescribable. But then things got… weird. Or maybe, it was Buck that got weird? He still wasn’t really sure where it started, to be honest.

for all the words unspoken by Maira/ @carrierofthepaperclips (Work Trip, Getting Together | 5K | Teen): "Buck." Eddie had already dropped his bag and was standing next to the bed, hands on his hips. "We've slept in the same bed before. I'm pretty sure we'll manage to do the same in this one, it's humorously large. Don't!" He held up a hand as Buck opened his mouth. His lips twitched, though, so Buck took it as a win. ... or, the one with only one bed.

underneath the tree by devirnis/ @devirnis (PWP, BDSM | 2K | Explicit): Frowning to himself in concentration, Eddie carefully folds the wrapping paper around the corner of the box. He has no idea how his mother makes this look so easy, even after she walked him through it earlier on FaceTime. Under the tree, Eddie’s present whines plaintively.

WIP

🔥 Precious & Fragile Things by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Small Miracles AU, Angel Buck | 20K | 8/? | Teen): Buck is the Fallen Angel of Petty Temptation, who has been tasked with tempting human Eddie Diaz to sin and enjoy life, but just a little. He thinks the job will be easy - get in, get out, go back to Peru to continue messing around with eternity. But when Buck arrives in Los Angeles, he finds Eddie is harder to tempt than expected, and more compelling than Buck had hoped.

🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon, S1 through S6 | 102/? | 276K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.

Love Ends. by rowan_wood (Exes to Lovers | 4/17 | 5K | Explicit): But what if it doesn't?

in my head by yourcatfishfriend/ @your-catfish-friend (Friends With Benefits | 8/9 | 30K | Explicit): Buck is confidently bisexual. Eddie isn't sure. Buck helps him figure it out.

Re-Read

🔥 Always, All Ways by ashavahishta/ @ashavahishta (A/B/O AU | 85K | Explicit): Buck’s the only omega in the 118. He’s got secrets, and walls a mile high. Eddie’s the alpha determined to knock them down.

[negrowhat]

15 Days BL Challenge the Quadriquel

LAST DAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This has been so much fun! Thanks again for this 4th installment @pinkkop

60. Favorite lesser known BL

Gameboys the Series. I'm going to keep talking about the series until more people watch it. Gameboys follows online gamer Cai during the COVID lockdown. He's at odds with his family and his dad is sick with COVID in the hospital. He finds online companionship with an eager fan of his named Gav. The first season of the series is almost completely shot in videocall style as Cai and Gav get to know each other and learn to trust and depend on each other. We meet a couple more friends (and enemies) along the way as everyone tries to adjust to life during the pandemic. There are 2 seasons and a movie but the movie and s2 follow the same storylines. WATCH IT!

Tinted With You. K-POP group A.C.E's leader Park Junhee stars in this short Korean BL. Junhee plays a student named Eunho who is a graduating High School senior. Eunho gets sucked into an ancient era painting where he meets an exiled Prince named Lee Heon and his grumpy but loyal bodyguard, Guem. The series follows the trio as Lee Heon tries to help Eunho return to his right time and Eunho tries to help Guem save Lee Heon's life. The series technically has Eunho and Prince Heon paired up but Guem and Heon definitely have chemistry and Eunho and Guem have chemistry. Honestly they feel more like a poly ship rather than a love triangle which is a treat tbh. I enjoyed it and was mildly obsessed with the series.

Ghost Host Ghost House. I will talk about this series forever. Paranormal vlogger Kevin travels to Thailand to visit with his mother's side of the family (His aunt, uncle, and younger twin cousins). When he gets there they are acting a bit peculiar but still happy to see him. He also meets the family friend Pluem who is immediately interested in Kevin. The series follows Kevin as he discovers there have been some recent deaths in his family and also as he gets to know Pluem who is also dealing with the death of his father (and his sister is ill). Not only do we get ghosts and paranormal happenings, but we get a few love stories, and also we get to see how these characters deal with death, grief, and regret. Get tissues...you will cry.

The New Employee. Late 20-something-year-old Seung Hyun lands an internship at a famous ad agency where he is working under the very strict but successful director Jong Chan. Jong Chan is very serious about his work and he pushes Seung Hyun to question whether he wants to be there or not and gives him the space and opportunity to learn and grown. Jong Chan also wastes no time in letting Seung Hyun know that he is interested in dating him. The series follows Seng Hyun as he navigates his new work load, advancing his career, meeting old crushes, and dating his new boss all at the same time.

[habijob]

Soooo, Sebastian’s marriage lore has been ping ponging in my head like the pecking DVD logo for the last week.

And the reason being that when looking at it, it does not come with any explanation whatsoever. Which seemed to have resulted in many people getting... let’s call it “overworked” over it.

Including me.

But not because of the related discourse... drama(?) on the official pressure discord.

No, it’s been on my mind for the last week, because the inclusion of this lore doesn’t make sense... yet.

Pressure is stated to be in alpha. And the devs are working on adding more content to it; so any new lore surrounding our favorite pool noodle fish can happen to come across as “incomplete”.

Because it is *incomplete*.

And the marriage lore is this exact thing. It was added for reasons during the friendly fire update I don't want to pin point down, because I want to avoid talking about the drama itself and just want to talk about the ring and the photo.

So, what do I mean by it feels "incomplete". Well, it lacks an explanation how Sebastian got into the possession of these *personal items*.

"But Habi, why aren't you questioning then anything else on his design? From where did he got his clothes?"

I dunno. Maybe these clothes are his personal belongings. Maybe Urbanshade had allowed him to have "free time clothes". Or maybe these clothes were something he found within Urbanshade after he caused the lockdown. Idk, maybe there an entire pecking area for prisoner theater and he got the outfit from a chest with costumes in it. Maybe his pecking jabat shirt thing was part of a pirate costume. Or that green dude that is apparently part of the canon narrative gave him these clothes. Who knows, but it doesn't matter, because these clothes can be seen as not personal belongings.

However a wedding ring and a photo of his wife are personal belongings. And considering Urbanshade seems to be a horrible, horrible company according to the "discord lore", so I have to wonder how Sebastian was able to get these two items (back?) during the lockdown.

And because this bugs me so much, my brain has spent the last couple of days figuring out ideas, on how to answer these questions. So that this marriage lore doesn't feel "weirdly ducttaped on" anymore.

Question 1: "How did the photo and the wedding ring end up in Urbanshade in the first place?"

-> Well, according to a (rather sparingly) google search, death row inmates are allowed to have small amounts of personal belongings.

So, Sebastian could have possessed the photo and ring since he was sentenced to death. And then when Urbanshade scooped him up, he simply took these two items with him.

Like, here's an idea, this guy maybe didn't even know he was getting declared dead by Urbanshade, after he was tranfered over to Hadal Blacksite. So, he always believed that his family and his wife think he's still alive, but well, somewhere else entirely. Not knowing, that they got told he was dead.

Only later learning that he was declared dead by Urbanshade BUT also declared innocent by the authorities, once he had gotten his file into his fingers uh claws?

Question 1.5: "Wait, but isn't his wife also in Hadal Blacksite, if we consider that in that one ref sheet she seems to have void mass tentacles?"

-> She is currently not in the game as an entity or NPC or whatever. Therefore, we are gonna ignore her existence for the sake of keeping this simpler.

Question 2: "What happened to the ring and photo when they were in Urbanshade? Did Sebastian have them the entire time or not?? Because he didn't have the ring and photo before the Friendly Fire update"

-> Well, there are multiple possibilties to this one. The first idea is yes, Sebastian was able to have them the entire time, and that he didn't wear the ring or have the photo with him can simply be explained as "game's still in development".

Another possibility is that some asshole working at Urbanshade took these two things from him. Maybe a guard or a scientist, because they saw Sebastian with these items, and thought that this death-sentenced, 9-people-murderer LR-P doesn't deserve these items.

And so they disappeared.

Question 2.5: "If someone took them, then how did Sebastian find them??"

-> He simply stumbled upon them during his scavanging through the facility. Like, he probably didn't even actively look for them, because he was just trying to find useful stuff, but then he found these very important items to him.

Question 3: "The ring doesn't make sense. His hands and therefore fingers are larger than normal, how can he have such a large ring."

-> I actually attempted to explain this (and the previous question) with a comic of mine. The simple answer is, he probably made himself a new ring, so that he can wear this symbol of his marriage and find comfort in thinking about his wife.

Question 4: "But shouldn't Sebastian maybe realize that his wife could have moved on? It's been 12 years."

-> This man is running on various things like stress, anxiety, adrenaline, low sleep, and what else you can slap into this poor man during a lockdown that he caused, because he wants to break out. So him being very hopeful about his wife is probably one of the only comforts he currently is able to have. Let him have that.

-> Second answer though, now not ignoring his wife anymore. She is probably just somewhere around in the facility, working together with Sebastian, or Sebastian is working on getting her free from wherever she is contained. Who knows? (Well actually, Zerum does, but we don't. Which is why everything here is my speculations.)

But anyway, now the ring and the photo can make sense, and I can hopefully move to being crazy about other stuff related to him.

Late edit; bonus question:

Question 5: "Okay, let's pretend Zerum is in the facility. How the peck did she end up in the facility too?"

-> Perhaps the photo was the reason. Urbanshade knew this is his wife, and when Sebastian became more hard to deal with, they would threaten him with his wife. Eventuall leading to them bringing her down to Hadal Blacksite (somehow).

And then experiments on her ensued ú_ù

[heartofbusan]

TLDR: re-entry into the bangtan gravitational field at your own pace in 2025. Guilt free!

2024 was such a re-set year for me when it comes to engaging with bangtan. Can I be fully honest and say that their enlistment has been relaxing for me? Sure, we had a shit tonne of content to wade through, but without the members themselves being present for any of it, it meant a less direct engagement with the work during their 2024 releases. For me, that meant fewer feelings of guilt towards 'being present' with them. Does that make sense? It's like I got room to engage at my own pace and on my own terms. Or I might just be getting older, lol. Not discounting that possibility.

The music we got still had great impact on me. It felt sensual to engage with it as if it was a new discovery and less of an obligation. Time constraints sometimes meant it took me weeks to watch an mv, or listen to an album without distractions. Quite a different way of being army than I was before.

I became an army during the pandemic, right at the very start of our first lockdown. I allowed myself to delve into something that had only existed in my periphery. With their amazing music, which was second only to their interactions and personalities, came a whole boatload of content to wade through. All the while, Dynamite was being launched as my first official comeback. Growing up with that juggernaut meant feeling deeply invested and also responsible for their success. The results were very much a shared success. The perfect fertilizer for the parasocial relationship I'm currently involved in with seven Korean men I've never even met.

It took me away from my own life. Kept me in that state of detached social contact that was created thanks to the pandemic. Yet, I felt sated, my joy became engaging with these men, their art. What need did my surroundings fulfill that couldn't be met by army as friends and by bts as my sole purveyor of art?

Fleeing the horrors of Twitter and learning to navigate this platform also meant a deeper focus into one aspect of army that I never felt fully comfortable doing there. Jikook.

What can I say? They have my full attention. I lost some, what at the time I thought were some very good friends in this process. I barely gained any new ones. Yet, in this year, I did discover the power of a restful thought written into sharp observation. And nothing compelled me to write as much as jikook does.

But, all good things must evolve in order to be sustainable in the long run. I don't want that period to sour, to become just a hyper fixation. BTS' enlistment period meant I could take a step back and re-evaluate what it all meant to me and how I could keep it for the long run. As we roll into the sanctified year of 2025, the year that means the end of bangtan's mandatory enlistment period, we'll being sucked back into that vortex. I want to do it on my own terms.

My personal goals for 2025.

More: engaging with new content in my own time. Less: obsessive streaming and the feelings of guilt others put upon behavior that might be detrimental to your peace. Sorry, but this behavior is not sustainable in my life as it once was.

Less: buying dopamine. More: buying with intention, whether it be music or merchandise. Those tickets will not come free of charge, i hope you have been saving up ☺️

Less: engaging with content as it drops. Yes, even lives! Argh. As much as it pains me to feel like I'm ignoring someone. More: Being present in my real life.

No one gets to dictate who is army and who isn't. These are arbitrary rules set upon by some who are willing and able to direct a lot of time and money to a singular goal. I know as I write this that I'm making excuses for myself. Yet, I need it to be true. I want to carve a place for bangtan into my life, not the other way around. Let's not let a corporation dictate our genuine feelings for the sake of capitalism.

Most of all, I hope health and general well-being are what carry us all into 2025. Nothing is certain, but love is a very powerful feeling. One which can move mountains. Sometimes to great personal cost. Yet, it is worth it in the long run. Wouldn't you agree?

I hope you have a very calm and enjoyable end of year. Be safe and tell your loved ones how they make you feel. It's important to hold on to the things you have control over and to let go, nay, expell the things that are beyond your reach.

[writeyouin]

Hello!! Omg I love your writing SOOOO much!!! If holiday requests are open, I was wondering if you might gift us with a V for vendetta Christmas fic? Like, something fluffy where reader is stuck in the shadow gallery and is having a real blue Christmas UNTIL... V surprises them with something unexpectedly festive? *cough* mistletoe *cough* ❤️❤️❤️

V X Reader – Christmas Blues Part 1 of 2

A/N – Okay, so I got two very similar xmas requests for V for Vendetta, so I’m doing this as a 2 parter. Part one is this, part 2 will be smut. You can read part one without part two.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

V stared at you, certain you must find his expression mocking behind the jeering grin of his mask. He had never intended to hurt your feelings, only to let you down gently as it were. He knew he didn’t do enough for you. There was never enough time, and his work was important… But weren’t you also important?

No, nothing could compromise his mission. If all went according to plan, he would be ready to blow up the Old Bailey in another two years, thus starting his revolution. Yet, doing such things took time, and there was so much that V had to learn and prepare. He didn’t have time to rest – not even on Christmas Eve. However, in telling you so and seeing your disappointment – Well, it was just another way in which he was a monster.

The worst part was that you were taking it in your stride. Granted, V could see how upset you were as your eyes became glassy with tears you refused to shed, but you didn’t complain; it seemed that you knew just how much his work meant to him.

And so, V left you, stating a humble apology as he passed you and made his way to the roof. He had to hurry. There was a train to catch – a train straight to the Chancellor that was jam-packed with priceless intel.

Even when V left you, you still refused to cry. A small part of you had known this would happen. It was quite likely that V didn’t celebrate Christmas anyway. How many times had he told you that the holiday was stolen from its pagan roots? Or that the name was changed to suit its Christian hosts? And now that the UK was stuck in a dictatorship, the Holiday was only used to control people – it was like a gift the Chancellor could give or take away at will.

If the population was good, they would get their later curfews and sparkly light shows, but if they ever needed further subjugation, then a false threat would be created by Suttler’s goons, and harsher lockdowns would be put in place. Then, said imaginary threat would then be taken care of just in time for New Year’s Day so the people would have a chance for revelry, all while feeling a false sense of security under their great and powerful leader.

So, that left you all alone, as usual, but you knew you couldn’t blame V. To act as he had was simply his nature. You could no more ask him to change than you could ask birds to stop flying or fish to cease swimming. You simply had to pull up your bootstraps, pick some traditions, and enjoy the Holiday spirit.

That was easier said than done since there was nobody to lift your spirits and hype you up as you did all the things you were supposed to do. After eating dinner alone, listening to Christmas music, and hosting a lone trivia card game, you were quite thoroughly depressed.

In the end, you put on a film from V’s collection. In your current mood, It’s a Wonderful Life seemed to be the right choice; besides, you liked picking a film from Suttler’s blacklist, and It’s a Wonderful Life had been banned at the start of his reign for its socialist views.

Partway through the film, you spotted V’s sparring partner – the suit of armour he tormented during his favourite movies whenever he thought he was alone. Well, if he could be V’s movie frenemy, then he could also act as your film friend.

Slowly, you started talking to him, giving your opinions on the film, and of its characters. At some point, you began acting out scenes, much as you had seen V do, though where he chose violence, you chose love. The suit was your James Stewart, and you, Donna Reed, though sometimes, you would switch roles if you thought it was a particularly good Stewart scene. You lassoed the moon for your metal friend, then you switched roles and offered it a broken mansion for its honeymoon.

Although there was no mistletoe kiss in the film, you stole some you had decorated the fireplace with anyway, placing it over the armour’s helm. It was almost as if you would have felt silly kissing it without the mistletoe, even though it was ridiculous to peck the metal beak either way. You turned away from the unmoving man so that when you did kiss him, you would be able to swing around dramatically and give him that world-ending, 1940’s bombshell of a kiss.

The film played alongside in the background as George Baily returned home safe – he was loved and cared for, and then, it was the perfect moment to swing around, throw your arms over the broad shoulders and kiss –

V?!

Your momentum carried you forward as your lips pressed against the cool metal of his mask.

You tried to scramble back, hurrying out apologies but V held you steady.

“Don’t.” He told you. “Don’t apologise.”

“V, I- I thought you were-”

“I came back,” He said as if it were the only thing that mattered. In truth, he had rushed through his mission, stolen the required intel on a USB and hurried back without even so much as looking at the data. Leaving you the way he had didn’t sit right with him. You were an amazing person, always forced to put yourself second since you did everything you could to please V. He didn’t want things to be that way. He wanted you to have more.

Granted, the two of you weren’t yet in a relationship, but you had just kissed him, albeit inadvertently, and V was no fool; he knew the feelings you harboured for him.

“(Y/N),” He whispered your name, placing a gloved hand on your cheek. “You have given me more than I could have ever hoped for. You are a virtuoso of my heart, vibrant and vivacious as you pass through the veneer of villainy that masquerades so violently in the vales above. Of all that resides here in the Shadow Gallery, you are the most valuable to me. Although it is entirely selfish of me to ask such a thing of you, I hope that you will stay with me… always.”

You trembled against V, entirely terrified to open your mouth in case no sound came out. He waxed poetry so eloquently, and you often failed to make yourself say all the things you thought without tripping over your words.

Still, you couldn’t stay silent at such an important time in your life. V was – He was everything and to have him by your side would be like capturing the stars themselves, cosmic and inexplicable as they illuminated your heart and mind, burning any darkness or fear away.

You couldn’t look away from V, knowing his gaze must be expectant beneath the mask. Realisation dawned upon you, you didn’t need fancy words, or masses of poetry to complete the moment. All you needed was what V valued most; the truth.

“I don’t want to spend a day without you. I love you, V.”

“Then, by all means, let us abandon our fat metal friend,” V spared the suit of armour a backward glance, thinking how you could have kissed it instead of him, “and retire elsewhere. I myself do not celebrate this holiday, but I would love to partake in some of your more beloved traditions.”

[artist-issues]

ohhh it’s like maybe an allegory for the coronavirus lockdown?

…okay i get why putting that under a microscope would have fearful elements but like what about a werewolf and transforming into a non-understanding beast lends itself to that wait I just got it.

If it’s like “We were all under lockdown and isolation and all we had was out-of-proportion fear-flavored social media to connect with, i.e. we felt like everyone around us was changing into non-understanding monsters, so we turned against them” okay, I get it.

But it’s probably not a 1-to-1 allegory.

If it was, a werewolf story is still a really weird choice of premise for that. Because like how are you going to resolve it?

The mom would need to come up with a way to reach the dad, in his werewolf-ness, by realizing that A) something about the infection and his actions as a werewolf is completely fear-motivated and then B) she has to come up with a way to calm the fear that’s “exacerbating his condition” in order to talk him down. Re-establish understanding.

Except the fear was amplifying our inability to understand one another during the lockdown, which led to bad communication. But bad communication is what caused the fear in the first place. So like. It’s a circular problem.

I think I’m talking myself into wanting to see this movie.

But he still looks like stupid Big Buff Gollum. Not a werewolf. So also, why would I see this movie.

You know what I would do? I would have the family established as kind of bad at communicating in the first place—like, that’s their real-world problem—but it’s brought to sharp focus because of a new scary thing happening in their life.

Like, maybe they’re moving. They’re moving, because Dad just lost his job and has to get a new one in a totally new town. He’s scared that his failures are snowballing, and he won’t be able to keep this job either and provide for his family. Mom’s lowkey scared of that, too, and he can sense it, (for some relatable reason, like maybe because her father walked out on her family after losing his job when she was a kid) and it’s creating tension in the marriage.

Maybe the dad was fired because he tried to pull off this big business risk that everyone older and more seasoned than him was telling him not to do, and he did it anyway, because he’s prideful, and it blew up in his face. Then, to make matters worse, he recently stumbled into a destructive habit to cope—like, maybe he came home drunk for the first time, ever, after getting fired, and the Mom didn’t even really know he had a problem with alcohol up until this point.

So he’s scared he’s losing his family because of his mistakes, and his mistakes happened because of a fear of…losing his job and then losing his family, when he felt pressure at work in the first place. So he’s been doing a self-fulfilling prophecy thing to himself. The wife’s starting to struggle with that, too. She’s processing the fact that he’s lost his job and moved them and also maybe has a problem with alcohol or whatever substance abuse—she’s still processing it. It would be one thing if what Dad did just affected her, but they have a daughter.

And Daughter is still learning what to fear and what not to fear. And she’s learning it from Mom and Dad, who are both figuring out how to make her feel comfortable with this move, but there’s marital tension getting in the way.

So when we meet them, they’re driving a moving truck to their new home. The dad is overcompensating, insisting on being the one to drive all through the night, doing all these little things to try and prove he’s got it all covered (even though he just lost his job for making a dumb big-ego move, and then freaked his wife out by coming home drunk the same night.) Everything he’s doing to prove he’s got it covered is actually fear-based pride, and it’s just making the wife a little more tense with him, because him being so insecure and stressed is making her feel insecure and stressed. Plus, their circumstances as a family just got rocky overnight, and she’s had very little time to process. So every time she offers her two cents in any given situation, or tries to help, he takes it as a lack of faith in him and brushes it off, and she takes that as him pushing her away. Which he kind of is.

And then there’s the Daughter, who has no idea what’s happening, she’s young, she’s never moved anywhere before and she really just needs her parents to clearly communicate that everything is going to be okay because they love each other no matter what else changes—actually, let’s make that the Main Point: “Family Shows One Another That They’re Loved, No Matter What Else Changes.” That’s the point of our werewolf movie.

But! Her parents aren’t doing a good job of teaching that to her right now, because they’re not relying on one another anymore. The Dad needs the Mom to show him that even if he fails, she’ll stick with him. But because he’s afraid she won’t, he’s not communicating that that’s what he’s afraid of. So he keeps making all these fear-based macho decisions, and it’s a vicious cycle. (WE’RE TITLING THIS MOVIE “VICIOUS CYCLE”, DO YOU GET IT, LIKE CYCLES OF THE MOON)

And the Mom, she needs the Dad to show her that he won’t give up and hurt them (emotionally or physically) because of mounting pressure. She is showing him that fear, but that’s all she’s showing him. She’s not showing him faith that he can stick it out. The daughter doesn’t even know what to be afraid of, she’s learning that through the movie.

So! That’s where we meet them. And then they’re driving their moving truck through Creepy Nighttime Woods, and Mom’s like, “I can drive if you need a break,” and Dad just shakes his head and shrugs her off all “I-Got-This”, do you get it, it’s a mini-example of their whole issue.

There’s uncomfortable silence, the mom looks back to check on the daughter, expecting her to be asleep, but she’s wide-awake and doing that kid thing where they stare and keep their ears open and just observe their parents’ weird interaction. She’s just holding a little stuffed dragon animal, sitting there, an antenna to catch all their mysterious marital subtext.

Daughter asks Mom how far they are from their new house, and Mom looks at her phone and says, “just an hour, sweetie,” but then Dad answers at the same time, “three hours,” and points to his own GPS, and the Mom realizes their phones are mapping different routes to get to their destination. The Dad picked a route that supposedly has less traffic and isn’t on the freeway. That’s why they’re in Creepy Nighttime Woods.

Mom says something like, “why are we going this way,” and Dad reacts with nervous, reassuring “Leave It To Me” language, but it’s tense—

And then BAM Something comes out of the woods. In the middle of the road.

Dad swerves to avoid it, Mom screams his name in fear (and a teensy bit of involuntary resentment, the knee-jerk “why is the vehicle you’re driving suddenly moving so shockingly” way) and the whole moving truck topples and wrecks. It can be like in the trailer where the Dad comes to with the truck half-hanging off a steep drop, Random Guy in the passenger seat falls out, gets nabbed by some beast, scary scary.

(The Random Guy needs to be there for story-later reasons. Maybe he’s an ex-coworker and friend of Dad’s who feels bad that Dad got fired and offered to go with to help them move, like a real bro. But he’s asleep when the first interaction between Mom and Dad happens)

But you know what I’d do, the monster that takes Random Guy would look like a Beast. A big hairy animal. A frighteningly fast, slavering, bristling creature.

Dad has already helped Mom and Daughter out of the precarious truck when he sees this happen to Random Guy. Then just like in the trailer, the Beast jumps up, trying to get at him in the vehicle, its way too fast to see, but it only gets one crazy slash in before falling. It’s attack upsets the delicate balance of the truck, and Dad, bleeding from the cut, climbs out and tells them to run. It’s just in time, too, because the truck goes smashing down the drop.

They do, Daughter alarmed and asking, “what?? what is it?” and Mom not wanting to run because she didn’t really see any of that with the Beast, and all of their possessions just fell down the embankment plus it’s not really normal to start running from the scene of a car wreck and their friend Random Guy is down there, assumedly buried under the truck now.

But Dad screams at her about it, which is pretty out-of-character and a motivating tipoff to Mom that something immediately dangerous is happening, so they all take off. They don’t know which way to go, there’s a tense moment where they stop and Mom is arguing with Dad because of that, then a horrifying Something makes a Sound somewhere between roaring and screaming nearby, and they all panic again and flee.

They catch sight of the dilapidated one-story house, which looks empty, and Dad breaks in. They all huddle inside, and the Sound happens again—they look out the window Dad broke to get them in, and through the fog and darkness, there’s an even darker mass on the edge of the woods. It’s just a vaguely moving blur on the horizon at first, but then they see the steady evil lights of two predator eyes, staring across the yard.

Mom shrieks that it’ll get in through the hole he made, and they block that up in a blind panic while Daughter stands against the wall behind them, staring with big eyes at her dad’s bleeding arm. They wait to see if it’s coming, but it doesn’t seem to be. No more loud guttural bellowing either. After a minute or two of heavy breathing and silence, Daughter starts crying for her stuffed dragon. It got dropped in the woods during the chase scene. Mom goes to comfort her, while dad remains at the window, leaning against the bookcase, looking at their surroundings.

They’re in a house that’s partially wrecked. There are photographs in shattered frames on the ground of an old man and his grandsons. The old man is the only one holding a fish, and he’s smiling, but the two grandsons in the picture look uncomfortable. Like they don’t know him very well. There are also several broken beer bottles on the ground, and whoever used to live here apparently left in a hurry.

Dad goes to call for help. They left their phones in the truck, but the old man who lived here apparently had a landline. Who has landlines anymore? Dad tries to use it, but it doesn’t work. Well of course it doesn’t. Because who has landlines?

Mom is taking Daughter away from the window and a subconscious protective instinct makes her want to get the kid in the center of the building. She sits Daughter in a bedroom, which was closed, but the door opens to reveal that unlike the rest of the house it’s a dusty, neatly organized little boy’s room with bunk beds. It looks even more deeply untouched than the rest of the house.

Daughter starts to ask where Random Guy is, still crying, and Mom says they don’t know, but—and then Dad sticks his head in and interrupts and says Random Guy is “checking on the truck,” which is believable to Daughter because she’s little and didn’t see where Random Guy went, but it’s a lie, and Mom is surprised he’s dealing with the situation by telling a lie, even if it was to protect the daughter from immediate trauma.

Dad catches that look, and almost like he wants an excuse to get away from it, he says he’ll go get Dragon and check on the truck. Mom immediately protests—she thinks they should all stay there, because of obvious reasons, but she doesn’t want to freak Daughter out by mentioning the dangerous Thing they just escaped. Daughter also doesn’t want Dad to go anywhere, which heartens him.

Dad compromises by saying they’ll have a slumber party, then he’ll “check on the truck” in the morning. Daughter doesn’t like this idea, looking around at the dark strange house; her adrenaline is still pumping and the concept of “bedtime” is immediately terrifying. Fears brought to the forefront of her little mind, she asks what that scary roaring sound was while they were running.

Dad takes her from Mom and sets her on the bed. He tells Daughter “it was Dragon, protecting you, out in the woods. Remember what Dragon’s job is?”

“Protect the Princess.”

“That’s right, Protect the Princess.”

The Daughter may or may not be buying this explanation. “It was scary,” she says tremulously. Dad glances warily at mom and keeps it going. “Well sometimes being scary is part of the job. He has to be scary, and roar like that. To scare anything bad away from you.”

Daughter is sort of calming down, because mom has found a different, dusty toy dragon in the boy’s room. This one is a plastic action figure instead of stuffed, but she hands it to the Daughter, sort of helping to ground the kid in their new surroundings. Daughter asks if this is their new house, and Dad says it’s not, they’re just “borrowing it” for the night because nobody’s here, but “after Dragon comes back,” they’ll all go to their new house together.

Cuts to Mom easing herself out from underneath sleeping Daughter, and kneeling down next to Dad. He’s on the floor, unrolling dusty sleeping bags onto the bunk bed’s other mattress. She asks what they’re going to do, and he says he’ll go out and get their phones from the Truck as soon as it’s light, and call for help. As he’s saying this, he’s having a hard time using just one arm to get the sleeping bag unzipped. It’s been out of use for a while.

And this, so much longer after the fact, is the first time Mom notices his arm wound. She reaches to help him, alarmed and saying something fast like, “what is that? When did that happen?” but he pulls away on a reflex (because ouch) and says, “it’s fine,” then, trying to sound cavalier and a little funny so she doesn’t worry or get her feelings hurt that he pulled away like a child with a scab, “As long as I don’t touch it. It got a little piece of me, but it’s fine.”

This is the kind of personality the Dad character has. He’s very charming, but his personality naturally lends itself to kind of put-on, casual bravado at default.

She wants to clean it. He says he can do it, she can stay with Daughter, and goes out to look through the abandon house’s medicine cabinet. While he does, we can have some quick scary flashbacks cut in, between his tired dirty face in the bathroom mirror and the freaky-blurred-glimpse of teeth and snarl-wrinkles from the attack in the car, and predator eyes in the dark.

Traumatized, he makes sure all the doors are locked, sits on the couch for a little bit with the vague hope that his friend Random Guy isn’t dead and will come staggering up to the door, finds a shotgun in a montage of poking around the house, and then he’s exhausted so he tries to sleep with his wife in the kid’s room. It’s fitful. Because of course it is. And his arm, bandaged now, looks worse. He wakes up in a sweat at dawn and finds that he’s alone; his wife is now curled with their daughter on the bunk bed.

Dad stares at them for a moment, then gets up, rubbing his injured arm, now like triple-wrapped in a bandage.

Cut to Mom exiting the bedroom, careful not to wake Daughter, mindfully removing the now-empty sleeping bag from the area with a concerned glance down at the bloodstains on it. She looks up and around for Dad, and, when she makes it to the window, nudges a crack in the makeshift barricade just in time to see him, toting the shotgun, heading into the woods. She looks helplessly over her shoulder at the bedroom, and then strains to keep him in view as long as possible.

—-

Dad goes out to the wreckage of the truck in dense morning fog and there’s a gradually-mounting, tense sequence of him poking around. First of all, when the truck swerved, it apparently crashed and snagged on more than just a tree—it hit an old telephone pole and took it and the phone lines down with it. No wonder the stupid landline doesn’t work; he wrecked that like he wrecked keeping control of the truck. It’s all downhill from Dad noticing that.

Like, literally! Maybe he can slip trying to get down the steep drop (after all, he has to try and get their phones) and it’s the fault of his injured arm. He loses his grip on the shotgun during that fall and it’s out of view somewhere.

No worries; things are slightly less scary in the day, and he can at least see any predator coming. Besides, there’s a blood trail leading off into the woods where Random Guy was taken…so it’s throat-closingly awful to think about, but maybe the Animal is full, for right now. He looks like he’s considering following that trail, but then remembers the top priority.

First Dad tries to get into the cab of the truck, where he can immediately see that his own phone is totally smashed. I like the idea of it buried under a few other hard objects that were flying around the cabin during the wreck, and one of those is a case of beer.

When he tries to climb into the backseat, where his wife’s phone was last seen, he catches a glimpse of blood smeared across the rear passenger window (which is now pressed into the forest floor, because the truck’s on it’s side.) This blood is in a completely different place than the trail of blood that indicated Random Guy, getting dragged away from the scene of their wreckage last night.

So it’s not Random Guy’s blood. Did the truck squash the creature that attacked him as it fell? If so, how did it follow them back to the house?

Dad doesn’t have time to figure that out, because there’s Something in the woods. He can’t see it, from where he is in the fallen truck, but he can hear it. Heavy breathing. He listens for a second, terrified, staring helplessly out at the shotgun which he can infuriatingly now see through the front windshield, cross the clearing where it rolled after the fall. But after an eternity of listening to leaf-mold crunching and labored breathing, he suddenly hears a human sound. Like a groan, warbling its way out of a weirdly-deep bass breath.

So with that, he decides to get out of the truck. He creeps out, because even if it is a human, he has to pull himself headfirst out of the cab’s window-facing-the-sky, with an injured arm, and that’s a vulnerable position, and he doesn’t know who’s out there. But he does it anyway, because it sounds like the person’s in pain. Even if it doesn’t have the voice of his friend Random Guy.

So Dad drags himself up and sticks his torso out of the car with a, “hey,” and at first the audience is treated just to a view of him looking uphill…and all we can see in the foreground is a pair of grimy bare feet, the legs of which are tense and jerking around like the rest of the body is in a silent-standing-wrestling match with something invisible. The jerky almost-seizure movement is causing the only sound: slightly rustling the leaves. When Dad turns his head and looks in the direction of the camera, at the owner of the trembling bare feet, his face is transfixed with horror.

Well do kind of a pan from around the back of dad’s head just in time to catch a glimpse of what is probably a man—but something’s wrong, he’s moving all hunched over and there’s something scary about how fast, and he might be naked??—stumbling out of sight into some brush with one throaty wordless noise of fear. What’s also horrifying is the otherwise mute-strangeness of the encounter—Dad does not call out to try to get the person to stay.

He pulls himself out of the truck and staggers over to the shotgun. He picks it up and starts following the trail of blood, with many a look over his shoulder, creeped out by the hobo or whatever-it-was that he caught a glimpse of. (It’s the werewolf who slashed him, but it’s dawn, so he caught sight of it mid-transformation back into a guy, that’s what I’m trying to say.) But in his other trembling hand is his wife’s phone—also smashed. The case has one of those clear backs that you can slip a Polaroid into, and there’s one of Mom and Daughter swinging on their old home’s porch swing. He can’t go back virtually empty-handed, with no answers about their friend and no working phones.

Dad finds Random Guy’s corpse at the end of the trail. It is not graphic, I don’t do graphic. But we see enough to know that it definitely is a corpse, and that, weirdly, Dad’s look of horror and revulsion slowly fades after crouching down beside the body. (The actor’s gotta be real good at nonverbal narrative.)

Dad actually drops the wife’s phone and reaches for his friend’s bloodied arm with a very unsettling look on his face. He doesn’t look disgusted or afraid or grieved, he looks something else. There’s heavy animal-breathing, apparently coming from his own imagination, getting louder and louder in his head. But then he blinks at his own arm as it reaches, an inch away from touching the gory limb, trembling. Dad blinks again, like he’s seeing his own bandage for the first time somehow. He comes to himself, and now there’s real horror in his eyes. He stares at his bandaged arm, then the bloodied stump he’d been about to grab, then out at the woods. He grabs the shotgun, and stumbles backward away from his friend’s body. He’s practically fleeing the scene, as if he killed the man.

Cut to Dad picking up Dragon, the stuffed animal, where it fell, bundling it into the same grip he has on his wife’s useless phone. He’s got one hand full of those and the other still carrying the shotgun as he enters the house.

The next scene would be Dad kind of trying to tell his wife what happened out there. She asks if he saw what It was (there’s no need to clarify what “It” refers to, though she’s hoping it was a mountain lion or something.) He says no, and looks very troubled, probably remembering the hobo and trying to figure out what that has to do with anything. Mom sees his face and asks, “What?” meaning, “what’s wrong? What is it?” But he doesn’t like her to ask concerned-questions, so he says, “I don’t know, nothing,” and adds that he thinks the truck took a chunk out of the animal. Maybe in a joke about the phones also being crushed in the wreck, trying to alleviate the disappointed-stressed reaction that gets from Mom.

She wonders how it could’ve followed them while it was hurt, and he says he thinks maybe it was sick, not in its right mind, rabid or something. He’s kind of a know-it-all, always likes to have an answer for everything, plus he’s shaken, so pretending to have answers helps. She immediately says “rabid?!” And wants to see his arm. He hesitates, because ouch, and also there’s a flash of the sight of Random Guy’s bloody body in his mind’s eye—he doesn’t want to look at any more blood, even his own, out of a vague wariness that he’ll experience into that same weird trance again.

But then Daughter comes out and squeals excitedly at the sight of her stuffed Dragon toy, safely returned. The conversation is put on hold.

All of this takes about twenty minutes of the runtime. I don’t know, measure timing was never my strong suit.

Over the next day, the couple is keeping Daughter entertained and avoiding prolonged conversations, except for when Dad tries to convince Mom that he should go and look for help; he’ll just follow the road they came down to a town. She puts this off in hopes someone will pass by, instead; yet Dad keeps bringing it up. But he can’t hide the fact that he’s getting sicker, and she really doesn’t want him to leave the house. She’s more for the idea that they all go together, if anything—but what about Daughter? If there’s a wild animal out there, how do they justify taking her with them?

He says she should just trust him to go get help and be back before nightfall so they can clean up this mess. But she argues that he should not just leave she and Daughter in a stranger’s abandoned house in the middle of the woods, the territory of a possibly-rabid man-eating predator, with no phone.

They fight. Which is sad, because Dad is having a hard time keeping up with the argument, let alone winning it, because he’s running a pretty high fever at this point.

He wasn’t going to tell her about the possibly-homeless disfigured person he saw, but he mentions it by accident as they go back-and-forth, because he’s not thinking very clearly, (being ill.)

The whole argument he’s like clutching his hurt arm and fumbling irritably with the bandage—the argument starts while he’s trying to unwrap it to check the wound before a dinner of cold cans of soup—and Mom tries once or twice to get him to sit down and let her do it, but they’re both distracted by the argument they’re having. Now she’s really mad and a little worried, because hobo, what hobo, what is he talking about? He didn’t tell her about a hobo earlier. What did he see out there?

Daughter is hearing all of this, even though she was told to stay in the boy’s room and play. She creeps to the door and tries to watch the bickering match, but the floor squeaks and her Dad somehow hears it, halting the argument. Mom goes to reassure/scold her, which interrupts the mounting argument, and gets her a can of soup.

When she comes back to the living room, she and Dad share a more tender moment. It’s hard to stay mad when he looks so exhausted and sick, and still doesn’t seem to have the motor skills to unwrap the tightly-wound bandage. He’s just flopped there, picking halfheartedly at it. Besides, if he can’t even do that, she’s basically won—he’s not going anywhere tonight.

During this tender scene she makes some sweet gesture like sitting next to him holding his hurt hand in hers, and quietly saying, “This thing took the fight right out of you, huh?” Then she starts undoing the wrapping, and adds, “you could’ve just let me help you.” She’s talking about the bandage, but also she’s talking about everything else. He just stares at her—because this is the kind of conversation they need to have, and her softening toward him feels good but also mounts that constant pressure, because he really does love her and he really is sorry for all this, but how can he convincingly communicate that without it seeming like an admission of defeat? Not just for the wreck. For the wreck of their lives.

But when she does unwrap the bandage, his cut looks…fine. The skin is red and angry, there’s definitely something going on there, but the actual rip in the flesh is miraculously healed over. It should’ve needed stitches for that. What the heck is going on?

So he gets to have a kind of delirious line with a smile, like, “see, maybe I don’t need help.”

But she doesn’t like the loopy way he says it and checks his forehead, and he’s burning up. She goes to the landline and we can have that scene in the trailer where she tries to reach someone with it: “We were attacked by some animal, I think it was sick, it infected my husband, we need help,” but of course she’s not getting through to anyone.

And he just looks at her in a sad stupor, from the couch, because of course he also didn’t tell her that his truck-wreck knocked down the landline, so that mystery is still a mystery to her.

But then there’s a sound of crying from upstairs. Mom tells Dad to stay put and goes up to find Daughter distraught. She’s in an upstairs bedroom, by an open window. The night air is ruffling the curtains. Mom doesn’t like that one bit and shuts the window, sitting her daughter on the bed, then on further thought goes to try and nudge a bookcase over in front of the window. Might as well have all entrances barricaded. But then she notices that all the books have been tumbled onto the floor (they haven’t been in this room yet.) And when she looks over at distraught Daughter, she sees that the bed isn’t just mussed up—the sheets are shredded.

Mom steps back and out of the room, towing Daughter with her, her face a mask of confused horror. What happened in this abandoned house? Did the wild animal get in here, at one point?

Daughter sees the look on Mom’s face and stops crying, because she’s getting more afraid of whatever could make mom look like that than she was upset about…whatever was making her cry. Mom asks what that was. Daughter tearfully claims that Dragon fell out the window. Mom huffs and sighs and hasn’t the current frame of mind to play along—she says, “you threw your Dragon out the window? Honey—you know we’re not going outside, why would you do that?”

“So he can fly and get help from the town for us and Daddy doesn’t have to. But he didn’t flap his wings! He just fell!”

Mom comforts Daughter and takes her back to her room. It takes a while of playing and promising to go get Dragon the next morning (nobody’s going outside during nighttime, she threw him into the backyard and there’s no back door so you’d have to go all the way around the house in the dark, are you crazy) before Daughter will calm down.

But when she comes back to check on Dad, he’s non-responsive. She’s distraught. Ten minutes ago he was smiling and a little of his bravado-humor was coming through, and now he’s twitching and making really guttural noises. She’s very upset by this, because this on top of everything else? Is he rabid? She doesn’t know what to do. She doesn’t want to wake Daughter or let her see how sick Dad is, obviously. So she gets him upstairs, into bed, but he’s thrashing around in the torn-up sheets when she leaves him to try the phone again.

I like the idea of dragging this part out. Because if the scare-factor of the movie is “horrible breakdown in communication is causing hurt” then the right idea is to have the transformation into a werewolf be gradual. And that’s the scary thing. With little moments of hurt before the actual now-it’s-going-to-kill-us transformation.

What am I doing, I’ve spent way too much time on this

BASICALLY in the course of this second-night-in-the-house the dad would do lots of strange, upsetting things. He disappears from the bed upstairs and Mom finds him in weird places, like the basement. (Like in the trailer.)

He’s hallucinating about the moment he came home, drunk,to tell her he’s lost his job, and then hallucinating the day he came home and sprang the news on her that he’d decided they should move, and then hallucinating the resulting fight they had—but she doesn’t know that. She just sees him standing in the dark staring at nothing and shaking. She tries to talk to him and he just looks at her blankly; we get a glimpse into his perspective, just like in the trailer. He can’t understand what she’s saying.

She tries to lead him back to bed and he goes, the first time. As they stumble up the stairs she’s saying things like, “Come on, honey, two more, step up, do you need to rest?” but he’s hearing her say things like “Do you know what you’re doing?!” Like she did before accusing him of “uprooting our daughter’s world, all her friends are here,” or, “do you know what you’re doing?” back during their honeymoon when the car broke down and he tried frustratedly to analyze the problem. Or sometimes the things he hears her say as they inch their way across the landing don’t make sense at all, and that’s when he tries to talk back and ask her “what? What’s happening?” And all that’s actually coming out of his mouth is weird, gurgling snarling noises.

The second time she goes to check on him he’s curled in a ball in the bathroom on the floor, not moving at all, so tightly that at first she doesn’t even know what she’s looking at over there against the tub. When she realizes it’s him again she tries to wake him up and get him back to bed again, but maybe his eyes are actually wide open, he seems to be wide awake, he’s just not moving. That’s freaky. But she gets over it and decides to try and examine his arm while he’s so still—and he lashes out and spazzes, and she gets out of reach just in time but as he flails he busts a hole in the wall next to himself.

He doesn’t seem to even notice that he’s done this. Then he’s coming toward her, and his jaw is jutted out, and the whites of his eyes are completely gone, it’s just pitch-black dilated pupils, and his whole body is shaking so badly that his legs aren’t making the best use of the muscles that would stand him up so he’s sort of just dragging himself toward her on one uninjured arm, making all those deep guttural gargling sounds. She’s babbling to him, trying to snap him out of it, “stop it, you’re scaring me, what is it” But clearly nothing’s getting through.

Then Daughter, waking up after the loud sound, is calling for her mom from upstairs. Hearing that, Mom remembers there’s something happening outside this immediate frightening moment, then categorizes the hole in the wall and insensibility of her sick husband as “threat to Daughter” in a snap decision.

She finally scrambles backward out of the bathroom and locks him in. He doesn’t try to bust down the door, exactly, but she can hear him brushing confusedly up against it, see the shadow of him under the door flopping around. A finger or three scrabbles in the opening—his nails have spontaneously grown in the last few hours, grown to points.

Mom turns, breathing hard, to find Daughter there and tries to explain. Yes, that’s Daddy—he’s not feeling good, they need to give him some alone time. Daughter wants to bring him her leftover soup, but Mom insists that they leave Daddy alone and go into the living room for a little bit. This is so she can try the phones again—the phones, or the old hunting radio she saw in the cabinet.

While they’re there, Daughter is on the couch but she can’t stop looking at the shadow crossing the light of the bathroom, and listening to the ever-deepening, throaty sounds her dad is making. She is clearly remembering what he said about roars, and goes to look out the kitchen window at the backyard. Maybe she can spot Dragon. Instead, we get a nice jumpscare of yellow predator eyes watching her from the treeline. It’s the first werewolf. She’s frightened, and steps slowly back and back, not knowing exactly what she’s seeing. She goes to her mom for comfort. Her mom is intent on the radio. So we just see Daughter look over at the bathroom light again.

We pan slowly around the mom’s head as she gets a signal from the radio. She’s never worked one of these before, so she’s having to experiment. We can see the shape of the kitchen island moving out of view behind her. It does seem like there’s someone responding to her whenever she tries to talk into it. We can see the blurred corner of the stairway coming into view behind her. Whoever is on the other end, they are so muffled, she can’t tell what they’re saying, but the timing sounds like a response. We can see the landing coming into view behind her. She’s turning the knob and repeating things like, “Can you hear me? My family is trapped, there’s been an accident off of, uh, I think we were about twenty miles off the interstate, uh, can you hear me?” She listens for a response. Someone does finally answer, asking if she can confirm if she’s near a particular address. She gasps in relief and tries stammeringly to remember the one outside the building they’re in.

And behind her we stop on the shape of Daughter, outlined by a huddled, freakily-still silhouette framed in the bathroom light.

She let Dad out.

Mom whips around when Daughter says, “Daddy?” in such an uncertain voice. She drops the radio.

Dad’s hair has lengthened and his stubble has come in thicker but we’re not in full-wolf-mode yet. Which is worse, because his face has this indescribably blank, vacant look to it, like a shark’s. Except it’s frozen in some kind of weak grimace, like he was in pain before his facial muscles stuck that way. He’s staring straight through Daughter. Because his lips are pulled back and his jaw is still jutting, we can see the glint of pointed teeth. He’s scarily still, crouched in front of his daughter, except for how the lower muscles of his legs convulse every once in a while and his fingers are twitching. They’re claw-like. The arm that was clawed is ripped back open, this time in several places, and the nails of the opposite hand are stained red.

The bathroom behind him is in shambles. The old toilet has claw marks warping the porcelain. There’s blood on the fractured mirror, and it actually looks like some of the smears are purposeful—was he trying to write something in gore, and forgot what letters are supposed to look like?

Mom tells Daughter to come to her right now, and doesn’t take her eyes off of the uncanny transformation of her husband. There’s something about the way his face looks that is too scary to be considered “sick and in need of care.” Something that makes her want to drop him in a hole far, far away from their child.

Daughter is frozen. (Kids freak out when their dad shaves their face, imagine this.) Mom begins inching her way up the stairs step by step, but the moment one stair creaks, Dad’s head snaps toward her with such stomach-plummeting suddenness—and his right set of clawed fingers clench around the edge of the top step and immediately splinter it with unbelievable force—that Mom has to stop and settle for just reaching for Daughter. “Come to mommy right now.” She hisses, eyes wide.

Daughter tries to take a step back, forgets she’s on stairs, misses the edge of one, and gasps as she slips. Mom lurches up. At the same time, Dad opens his mouth and it’s impossibly wide and toothy and he makes a sound that is his normal human voice if it just had volume and no control over tone. He snatches at Daughter, but his arms and hands are shredding her puffy winter coat because he’s not accurately using the grabbing muscles in them. Daughter is stupefied in fear at first. Her mom is lightning-fast and uses a blue of pure mom speed and strength, and in one crazy twist she rips Daughter away from Dad. Daughter recovers enough to shriek into her mom’s shoulder. Everybody’s moving now.

Mom never stops the momentum that caught Daughter—she’s half-running, half-falling down the rest of the stairs herself as she bundles them into the kitchen, almost-forming the name of her husband into their daughter’s hair. Dad is a blur of reeling motion—his arms appear to have gotten longer, or maybe it’s just the way he’s holding them, endlessly reaching, fingers curled like each is one long claw-from-the-knuckle. His legs still won’t straighten up and hold him so he’s doing a mix of walking on his knees and all-fours hobbling, but it’s all frighteningly fast, and he’s staring, staring, staring.

He stays basically almost on top of them all the way until Mom is in the kitchen, she gets the landing inbetween them and she whips out an old knife from the sink and holds it out. “Get back!”

Daughter unburies her little head from Mom’s shoulder and twists to look at what’s going on. This movement steadies Mom, who tries to hold the kid at an angle where her own body is between her husband and their child. It also seems to momentarily jog her remembrance that this is Dad, at least enough for her to add his name in faux sternness when she repeats, “Get back.” This is like the part in the trailer where the same thing appears to be happening.

He doesn’t seem to register the knife. It’s her voice that has given Dad pause. Not because he recognizes it, but because he seems to have no idea what that sound is, judging from the slowly tipping head and black eyes. He keeps lurching toward them, but when his body makes contact with the island in the way, he goes wild and starts smashing everything he can reach.

Mom makes sure this isn’t her and Daughter. They attempt to escape, and there’s a a series of chases. First, she’s high-tails it to the truck, carrying Daughter. That goes fine until the truck won’t start (just like in the trailer) and then he smashes the windshield. She screams and tries to drive and flee, hoping he’ll fall off, but his flailing claw-hand disrupts her steering and they’ crash straight into the tool shed. Mom sees this about to happen and, in another burst of mom-superheroics, wrestles herself into the backseat and bundles both her and Daughter out the back door before the collision. Without stopping to check the destruction of shed or car, she flees.

They race into the woods, which was a terrible plan, but what else could they do? They make it to the road when they’re encountered by four hunters in a pickup truck.

One of them is holding a radio, two of them have rifles. They appear to offer temporary asylum—but then of course the werewolf gets there, and it turns into a true nightmare. It’s all screaming confusion. Mom is shielding Daughter’s face from all of it, and you guys get to join Daughter in obliviousness of the gory details because what am I doing, this is so long and it’s not even my movie and if it was I would artfully avoid graphic gore.

At one point Mom is scrambling to escape as the hunters are getting mauled in various stages of confusion and gunfire, and she falls down the embankment their truck tipped off of. There’s pained rolling, and she’s stunned, but Daughter is mostly unhurt, rolling a few feet away. There’s a moment where the werewolf approaches and Daughter tries to tell Dad it’s her, and tell him he doesn’t need to be scary, and Mom catches the tail end of this interaction before coming fully to alertness and racing to save her child. That probably would’ve resulted in death, because in all this fighting and gore it is apparent that the werewolf doesn’t appreciate anyone making sudden movements besides itself. But one of the hunters is still standing and shoots at it, so that gets its attention long enough for mom to grab Daughter and limp, one ankle twisted from the fall, back toward the street.

The last hunter gets werewolf-victimized, and then the chase is back on. Mom is barreling back toward the house, with one of the fallen hunters’ rifles, because it’s the last semi-safe place she’d been able to be, but she’s not going to make it. They’re in the backyard. She can hear that horrible throaty noise, this time full-werewolf scream. She ducks into the half of the tool shed that isn’t collapsed around the now-burning truck they tried to escape in in the first place.

She puts Daughter on the floor near the front door and hefts the Hunter’s rifle, peering through the wooden walls for sight of their pursuer. Daughter suddenly starts doing that high pitched scream-weeping-talking kids do, telling Mom not to hurt Daddy, it’s heartbreaking, but Mom shushes her and looks around for a hiding place—too late.

The werewolf is right outside. She can see it through the slats in the remaining walls of the toolshed, which face the woods. It’s looks like a werewolf—just a tad more beastly than the original, classic-looking Wolf Man. It’s lit in the glow of the fire, so the audience can see the weird, fever-seizure way that it moves, and it’s predator eyes. She looks back at Daughter and tells her that on the count of three she needs to run for the house. Daughter is just crying.

Mom counts to three, but before she can get to the last number, BAM the werewolf cannons through the wall and lands on the tool bench opposite mom. She whirls and fires; it’s hit and falls off the other side. But it stands back up and leers menacingly over the tool bench at Mom. It’s got one huge gouge along its shoulder, like a chunk was taken out of it. It’s not bleeding, it’s not a fresh wound—she remembers what her husband said about the animal “getting a piece taken out by the truck.” Daughter screams.

At the same time, one of those uncontrolled-tone animal noises comes from the other side of the tool shed, by the ruined wall. Daughter scoots to one side to get a better look. The camera pans a little to join her in peering around the bulk of the first ruined wall—it’s Dad. He’s pinned all along his left leg and arm, between the burning truck and the wall.

Mom looks back at the menacing werewolf she’s aiming her gun at. Dad never left the yard; the hunters were all taken out by this thing, which caused the moving van to wreck and did this to her husband in the first place. She screams at Daughter to run, and Daughter does get up and stumble a few feet toward the house, staring over one shoulder at her trapped dad—but the werewolf sees the movement. While its attention is momentarily diverted and before it can pursue, Mom fires again.

It’s hit, but it’s a werewolf, so that doesn’t matter; it leaps at her, knocking them both into the 1-and-a-half-walls still holding up the toolshed roof.

As she’s going down underneath its weight, she kicks both legs out and launches it a few feet away from her.

Then she turns and crawls half-under the tool bench for cover, aiming to get herself back between it and the vague direction of her daughter.

But then the toolshed collapses.

It falls in such a way that mom’s lower half is trapped under rubble when she comes to. The rifle is stuck lengthwise along her right side. She blurrily sees that Daughter is still lying stretched, stunned, in the lawn of the backyard. A few inches away is her stuffed Dragon, but you can tell she’s too shocked to move because she won’t even reach for it or crawl far enough to latch on for comfort. And beyond that, about a yard away, stalking toward her in a predatory arc, is the werewolf.

Mom strains to reach for the rifle and screams at Daughter to run, tries to get the creature’s attention. She can’t. She’s been so focused on the stuck-rifle to her left and the prone-daughter straight ahead and to the distance that, for a moment she doesn’t see that she can reach a perpendicular piece of wood under the one pinning her. She grabs at it, with no real plan in mind except to get something in her hands to change the impending fate of her daughter.

But when she does it moves, just a bit, and she realizes it can be used to leverage the beam off of herself. Instantly she’s trying to make this happen as the werewolf looms nearer and nearer to the easy prey of her daughter. But when she gets the beam to move a little, another sound makes her realized she’s not trapped alone.

Dad, still disfigured and snarling, is now pinned more under the same beam that she is than he was by the truck. (I don’t know exactly how; I think with some quick camera work we could show that as the shed collapsed completely he had enough time to get unstuck from his first position before getting trapped this new way.) As soon as she notices this she freezes in ear. If she lifts the beam, it is at an angle where he will be free first.

She stares at him and time slows down. He looks like a slavering monster. His mouth is yawning open hungrily, his face is a mass of darkening wrinkles. There’s fire from the truck right above him, but in its light there’s no human emotion—he doesn’t look afraid of getting burned alive, nor does he look in pain. His clawed fingers have turned black at the ends; he’s carving deep scars in everything he can reach, including the fender of the truck. But his black eyes, and in fact, whole face, are pointed at the same thing she is straining toward: their daughter.

If she lifts the beam, the monster that used to be her husband will be free before she will. She won’t be fast enough to stop anything he does. But if she doesn’t, nothing about the present scene will change, and she’ll have to watch her daughter mauled to death by the first werewolf.

She grabs the perpendicular piece of wood and hangs all her body weight on it. She heaves and screams and the beam lifts, just enough. Dad scrambles free, churning up the dirt floor of the toolshed. His dilated pupils reflect firelight and Mom. He stares down at her, then leers over her, clawed fingers reaching.

Then we cut abruptly to the action in the backyard, to a shot where Daughter is furthest from the camera with the burning toolshed as her backdrop. Dragon the stuffed animal lays in the grass in the midground, and in the foreground are the pacing limbs of the first werewolf. The clawed feet turn toward the prone, terrified child. There’s a scream, not from Daughter, but from Mom, somewhere back in the toolshed. Then silence. And then Dad comes up behind Daughter, bloody claw-hands reaching. Werewolves are moving toward her from both sides.

And then in a rush of motion Dad keeps going PAST Daughter; he pushes off the ground right alongside Dragon and launches out of frame in that single bound—when he comes back into frame, it’s to barrel into the charging first-werewolf. Bowling it straight off it’s feet, knocking it backward, away from Daughter.

Normally I don’t like werewolf-fights in a werewolf-movie. But he’s protecting the princess with his scariness. So I’m good with it. About a minute later, Mom crawls out of the wreckage of the toolshed, carrying the rifle. She shoots the first werewolf in the head, through the eye, right after Dad shoves it into the fire of the burning truck, and that finally does it in. It’s like, crawling out of the flames, on fire, and that’s when mom shoots it. It’s corpse transforms back into the distant-grandpa figure who probably owned the house they’ve been hiding in all along.

There’s like, a beat, where Mom is standing over Daughter with the rifle at the ready. Dad is bristling over the corpse. And then, horribly, Dad immediately starts eating the corpse. (You don’t see it, you see his back, a-la Demogorgon or National Geographic.) You just hear some snarling noises.

Mom hides the Daughter’s eyes by bending, picking up Dragon, and pressing the stuffed animal insistently into the kid’s face. After turning her around and telling her to stay there, Mom approaches Dad. She touches his shoulder while he devours. He doesn’t react. She reaches to do it again and THEN he whips around, bristling, nasty. She freezes, but you can tell (because we got a good actress) that she is forcing herself not to flinch. We flinched, though. We, the audience, we flinched.

She freezes, and he stands—tries to stand, and this time his shaky-bent legs actually straighten out. He’s almost his normal height. She looks at the blood dripping off his face and the freakshow-black eyes and says his name, it’s all very werewolf-cliche, and she tells him she loves him.

And maybe this time we go back into his perspective, like we haven’t since he first started transforming. The words he hears from her are very garbled, he still can’t understand her, and on the edges of the scene he’s seeing, a fever-blur of their old home, or his ex-office, or the road before they wrecked, keeps fading in and out.

The Mom takes his wounded arm, the one that first got the werewolf-scratch. With monster-force he jerks his arm back, as usual—but Mom does not let him slip out of her grip, so as a result, Dad yanks her forward right into him. She just has to go with it because that’s what happens when you choose not to lose tug of war with a werewolf, and embraces him. So, that should be curtains. But instead, of course, he just freezes and doesn’t seem to know what to do. Back to his perspective. He still can’t understand what she’s saying, but the emotion of the moment doesn’t change to confusion; she’s hugging him, you don’t need words with a hug.

From there, Mom slowly pulls away—which results in a snarl—but she doesn’t let go of that rigid arm. She leads him into the forest. They go to the site of the moving truck wreck (she takes him from a different direction, so they go around the hunter-massacre scene I guess)

She leads him into the moving van. All their stuff is laying in wreckage inside, toppled over on top of itself. But she sits down on the back of an overturned couch and shows him a shattered photo, plus the one on her cracked phone case, and just keeps telling him that she loves him.

When the cops show up, carrying Daughter safely from where they found her and closing in on them with guns, and Dad gets all bristly and animalistic-again, Mom doesn’t let go of his arm. She says she’s staying with him, says it to the cops, and says it to him. And he turns back to normal. It’s slow—enough. He’s been turning back to normal incrementally since she let him out of the toolshed. Standing up straighter, not eating her when she touched him, his eyes have been clearing up, etc.

Anyway, that’s how we end it. The police see the photo Mom is holding of their family, so they don’t immediately want to shoot the parents of the kid they rescued (they’re still the police and people are still dead on this scene) especially when one just went through mysterious seizures right in front of them. But when the camera goes dark, the family is still standing together.

I got a little carried away. so. so what, I had time

[demonkidpliz]

Update on balaramerchela

So, I had to disable comments on the latest story on my Wordpress blog, balaramerchela.

Basically, even though I explicitly said that this is a multi-chapter story of eight chapters of varying lengths and that I will be publishing one chapter every Friday, the not-so-gentle readers are not happy. They complain that I don't publish often enough. They complain that the chapters are not long enough.

I've explained myself repeatedly that I am an adult with a full-time job and family, pets and friends. I do not make money from these stories. My stories are original works and take a lot of time to write, edit and proofread. No machine learning and AI are involved. I cannot keep churning new ones out week after week. So my only option was to stagger them out one chapter at a time. This also gave me time to edit them in between my job and travels. I would love to have the whole story up in one go (like I used to back in the day during the pandemic) but then I cannot cope with the amount of nasty comments I get about not publishing a new story immediately afterwards. I’m sorry that the readers think that it’s unfair but I think it’s unfair that I write novel-length stories but only receive comments expressing disappointment from my readers. I’ve been writing since 2009 and in 2014, two of my friends, who are also my proofreaders, urged me to start this blog. Things were going well for the past 10 years but now this blog and my readers’ expectations have become too much for me to handle, in addition to my full-time job and personal life. I did a LOT of writing in 2020-2021. I’m talking full-length stories every Friday because I was under lockdown at home with nothing better to do. Once I went back to the office full-time, I explained that I wouldn’t be able to keep delivering stories like I used to and my readers were very understanding. But something changed this year. The hateful messages and comments have become unmanageable for me. This blog is an enjoyable, but a very small part of my life. I cannot let it take up so much emotional bandwidth. I’m happy to finish publishing the stories I have but after that I will probably archive balaramerchela. I will obviously keep writing, but I will no longer publish my stories. My two best friends might continue to proofread them and I might narrate them to my sibling, but that’s about it. The cons of sharing my stories with the world outweigh the pros. I’m sure there are other, much more talented authors on Wattpad, Tumblr and AO3 who will be able to fill the void. Thank you for reading and supporting me for the past 10 years!

[clever-and-unique-name]

Didn't sleep last night, and I have no idea why. It happens often enough that it doesn't bother me so much anymore, as long as we don't have much planned the following day. Body clocks are weird and we've always been pretty nocturnal, long as nobody inside was obviously distressed, I wasn't gonna sweat it.

Raz tried to make herself present in the morning. She put on comfy leggings and a strappy tank top, had some coffee out on the deck. Raz things. Tried her damnedest to organize her thoughts for therapy in a few hours--read through the last month of journaling, looked back through our blogs for clues, reached out to anyone inside who might be listening.

And, in true Raz fashion, abruptly got tired and suddenly we were changing clothes in our room again, pulling on my jeans and slightly less-strappy tank top.

Therapy came and went. We hadn't seen our therapist more than one time in-person before covid lockdown hit, and have been doing phone sessions since. I'm face blind on a good day, but I wouldn't be able to pick her out of a lineup, gun to my head.

Still, she knows us, and she's learning about Us in the differentiating-between-parts sense. Me personally, I'm not a fan of therapists in general, but ours is a good egg. Raz was doing most of the talking during the session, but I hung around to add wonderful insights such as "Fuck, this is gonna make me sound crazy to talk about…" that really just add a certain je ne sais quoi to the therapy environment.

After therapy, it was off to the beach. Gotta keep moving, got shit to do, got bars to fill like in the Sims: eat a food, consume a caffeine, photosynthesize, touch a Big Water (the ocean, in this case.) Sweat my ass off in the last of the summer sun. Listen to the feral child in my brain begging to kick off our shoes and walk in the tide. Mutter about seaweed clinging to my calves and sand between my toes, but it makes her happy, so whatever.

Come home, hang out with our roommate slash best friend on the deck. Try to practice our new hobby, embroidery, because what's more fitting than to pick up a hobby all about untangling masses of knotted threads and trying to make something beautiful out of it.

Or something. I fucked it up and admitted defeat after two failed bullion knots.

We slip back inside and hang out in bestie's room for a bit while my sleep debt repeatedly elbows me in the face, reminding me I can't stay awake forever. The kiddos inside my brain, usually present later at night, hover closer as it gets harder to keep my eyes open.

Nope, fuck, not time for that yet, gotta get up, gotta make breakf….lunch? Food. Meal. Shuffle out to the kitchen while Abel stands off to the side, rattling off The Plan for making food. Do this, do that, then start this, then go back to that, and while you're doing this make sure you--

I nod along with the occasional grumble when she seems a bit Too nitpicky for someone who's intentionally not taking charge of moving our body around. I'm tired goddammit, I don't care that I was supposed to put the bacon on a different way.

Inside, Raz pats my arm sympathetically. Of course she knows all about being tired.

Wake our sleeping husband, feed everyone, clean up the kitchen. Feed the ferret and rat. Let the ferret out to run around like the little boneless dork he is.

Sit. Stare into space for a minute. Start writing this post.

I don't do well without a Thing to do. All I know are my little tasks. It's time for someone else to take over, I think. Maybe I've done enough for the day, y'know? What a concept.

- Tris

[sequencefairy]

Do you have something you're looking forward to before summer ends?

Saturday, there will be fireworks at the beach.

Next week, I have two days off work and I am also going to a baseball game.

The week after, I am going to see the new Twister movie with a friend.

In August, I have two days where I'll be boothing with my friend to help her sell her knitting.

There are probably other things I am forgetting between now and then.

I am ... always giving myself things to look forward to. I re-learned, during the lockdown portion of the pandemic, how much monotony breeds despair. One must have events, or excursions, or activities to look forward to or else the black hole will consume you. They don't have to be big things, or expensive things, just something to give you a goal to aim for.

I knew this, already, long before the pandemic, because it's how I got through the most miserable years of my life. If I can get to Friday, I can watch that show, if I can make it to next Tuesday, I can get coffee at that fancy place in the commons, etc. I'd forgotten in the intervening years, and had to remind myself that yes, in fact, you need little joys, current and future, or you will go mad.