#late nighters assemble!

[ohbuggy]

She’s just a girl~

[newtkive]

practice - carmen berzatto

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader, mentioned platonic marcus x reader

summary: The sudden changes at your work prove to be a lot to keep up with, but Carmy notices your efforts where you think he’s just a tough boss. He proves to be more than that when he finds you pulling an all-nighter at the restaurant.

wordcount: 3.8k

warnings: none really, anxious reader, ooc!carmen (he would never let mistakes fly like this lmao), kinda fluff at the end

a/n: this is basically how i would react working there bc i almost have an anxiety attack every ep watching carmy yell at everyone. sorry for any typos!

The fast moving pace that Carmen Berzatto brought to The Beef was something extraordinary. The skill of his professional chef background was carried over into the small hole in the wall that otherwise would have never changed if it wasn’t for him.

His drive was contagious, even infecting the staff you knew like the back of your hand. You never would have thought your coworkers, ever comfortable with a stagnant pace, would become accustomed to such change around their second home.

It was great to see your favorite people quickly see their own potential thanks to Carmy’s vision. The only problem was you.

You were falling behind, and quickly.

You tried to convince yourself you could keep up as things changed. But your mind was faster than your barely skilled hands and you were terrible at cutting ingredients evenly during a rush and you always somehow got sliced or burnt and your eyes always stung from the onions you were stuck prepping because that was the one job you couldn’t fuck up but hated— to put it simply, you sucked.

The faces of your coworkers reflected what you feared every time you turned around to take a breath, heels of your hands rubbing tears from your eyes as Carmy screamed profanities at the crew. Tina’s eyes would linger on you, brows raised and silently asking if you were okay. You would nod and blink the tears away before jumping back in. By the end of every shift Ebraheim would pat you on the back before leaving, and Sydney would send you a small, sympathetic smile and wave while you tied your shoes on the bench near the locker.

Each time you could see the sympathy in their eyes and it made you hate yourself even more.

You were used to sandwiches; assembling simple ingredients between a hoagie bun on a slow Sunday surrounded by the people you called family. Cracking jokes here and there, no pressure to make things completely perfect, which ended up making things perfect. So much so that regulars even seemed disappointed to see you up at the register some days instead of in the kitchen assembling their lunch.

Carmy wasn’t blind, he could see exactly what was going on, which was why he didn’t pick on you as much as he did when he first arrived.

The first couples of weeks that Carmy was there he noticed the difference in your station compared to everyone else’s. Organized, cohesive, clean—save for the multiple drinks you always had. You worked at your own pace, not slow but definitely not up to par with Carmen’s standards. You made it work though, cutting ingredients almost perfectly and whipping up sandwiches and other specialties not a second too late.

The change happened when Carmy upped the stakes and encouraged—or yelled at—everyone to be as quick as they possibly could. His yelling was off putting, and you didn’t respond well to much other than positive reinforcement.

The chef didn’t notice until the uneven bread and too-thin tomato slices lead back to you. He was quick, marching over to you with a purpose; if it was a cartoon, his hair would be alight with fire. “Chef!” His voice was hard and urgent, because he didn’t have time to deal with this.

As he approached, he noticed your hands shaking as you held the dull shitty knife, head whipping up and cheeks red, all but heaving from the pressure. So much pressure.

“Yes Chef?” You asked attentively, waiting for him to explode.

Carmen had all intentions to do just that, tear you a new one, tell you that you’ve been here long enough to know how to cut a fuckin’ tomato the right way but he paused. The look in your eye was wild and scared. His face fell, obvious turmoil behind his blue eyes causing a change in his decision. You waited with bated breath, but what you were expecting never came.

Instead, Carmen did his best to be calm and set his hand on the counter, leaning a bit. “I want you to show me how to slice that tomato.” He said.

“What?” You were confused and it was clearly written on your face. So were your nosy coworkers who exchanged looks and shrugged, expecting the young man to wail on you with his words.

Looking over your shoulder at the others, you tried to exchange weary looks with anyone but Carmy pulled you back in with his words. “Don’t worry about their shit. C’mon, show me.” He said again, motioning to the tomato sitting on the cutting board, looking at you expectantly.

After a beat of weariness you did what he asked. With an exhale your knife pierced the red skin and cut it, your wrist dragging it back and forth to cut all the way through. You gave a few more slices, doing your best to ignore his scrutinizing gaze.

Reviewing your slices, you mentally pat yourself on the back at the sight of them perfectly even and a fairly thin. You turned to look at Carmy, and he seemed to have an epiphany as he stood there holding his chin. Eyes flickering up to you, he nodded. “You know what that showed me?” He asked, and before you could answer he continued. “You’re competent, you did that shit with a dull knife. Don’t cut ‘em too thick or too thin, you have no excuses.”

He should feel ridiculous, like he was coaching a baby how to do the easiest job in the world, but for some reason Carmen was able to swallow his irritation and try to guide you.

You nodded, back straightening and hands sweaty. “Yes, Chef.”

Carmy was about to walk off but stopped himself, turning back around, eyes boring into yours as he grew more serious. “You hear me yelling, you listen, but I need you to focus, Chef. You can do this shit, I’ve seen you pull through before. Don’t let my mouth get to your fuckin’ head.” He said low enough just for the both of you to hear.

He was close, blue eyes staring right at you, the smell of the kitchen clinging onto his apron. It should’ve been intimidating, and it was a little, but you knew this was his version of offering comfort and maybe even some sort of apology.

“Heard, Chef.” You said just as quietly back.

There was a second of him staring, before he simply walked away without another word, leaving you to your own devices. Whatever he said seemed to put some perspective into your work, because you didn’t have anys setbacks for the rest of the day.

On the way home, sitting on the train with headphones in your ears and a jacket wrapping you up tight, Carmy’s words swirled in your head. You knew you could do this, and you could somewhat see in Carmy’s eyes that he had faith in you too. It was just a new world you were all suddenly thrown into and it was hard finding your place. On days where you felt like a baby fawn standing on shaky legs, wobbling and failing to find your footing, you had to keep going.

A single word rang in your mind.

Practice.

Your apartment was pretty small and shared with a roommate, so you lacked the accommodations and tools to really do all you wanted. Aside from that, you didn’t want to be the rude roomie who clashed pans in the kitchen all night long. So, as you made your way off the train you didn’t leave the station. Instead, you waited for the next ride to the city and headed straight for The Beef.

The sun set as you approached the back door, humming a tune as you pulled out a spare key—one that definitley would be confiscated once Carmy found out about it, probably clambering about it not being safe in the foreseeable future—from under the fuse box outside and unlocked the door.

You entered the kitchen, brows immediately raising as you saw all of the kitchen lights on. Slowly moving forward, a sense of anxiety grew as you knew no one would usually be here except for Carmy, and you really did not want to get a talking to from him right now.

Turning the corner, you sighed in relief when you saw the familiar stature that belong to Marcus. He had his phone out, recipe pulled up in front of him and a song playing softly from the speakers that he sang along to. You chuckled softly, alerting him of your presence. Head snapping up at the sound, he almost looked like a deer in the headlights as he met your eyes.

Similarly to you, he let out a relieved sigh and sent you a smile. “Scared me, Y/N.” He laughed softly, hands whisking again.

“Sorry.” You apologized, tugging your coat off. “What’re you doing here, man?” You asked as you headed over to the lockers and shoved your stuff away.

Marcus shrugged. “Could ask you the same thing.”

“Practice.” You said simply, shrugging and tying your apron around your waist. Approaching the kitchen, you started gathering a few clean pots to start your work.

Humming and nodding, Marcus gave you a knowing grin. “Same here.” There was a beat of comfortable silence as you gathered a knife, cutting board, and an onion before washing your hands. “I actually stay here sometimes overnight. It’s easier, that way I won’t waste time going back and forth from home.” Marcus explained.

Surprise filled your features and you sent him an impressed look. “Wow, no wonder you’re getting better fast.”

He chuckles bashfully, filling another mixing bowl with flour and whatever else he desired. “Eh, I guess.” The shrug of his shoulders made you laugh before you turned back to your own work.

With one last question of Marcus asking if you minded his music, and you affirming that you didn’t mind at all, he turned the dial on his bluetooth radio up and you both fell into a comfortable rhythm; Marcus in his corner and you on the stovetop.

By the end of the evening you prepared a vibrant beef braciole dish that a few of the others had been practicing since Carmy introduced it. You brought it to one of the stainless steel counters with two forks, setting it next to the two pieces of cake Marcus had sliced up from his recipe of the evening.

You both dug in, humming in satisfaction as you tasted each other’s creations, sharing impressed and ‘holy shit’ expressions that made the other laugh.

“This is fantastic.” Marcus said, another mouthful of beef being added to his mouth.

You laughed and shook your head, muttering a thank you, trying to swallow down your surprise. Marcus could tell, because he doubled down. “No, really, Y/N. This is the best one I’ve tasted yet, aside from the big Chef.” He said with a grin.

Shaking your head, you gave him your appreciation. “Thank you, Chef. I can say the same thing from you.” You motioned with your fork to the cake. In truth, his words pushed you and affected you more than you lead on.

The both of you fell into a rhythm, whipping up treats and savory meals almost every day after work. Marcus playing music at his own station, you timing yourself relentlessly to try and replicate the fast pace of the open hours of the restaurant. You sometimes even found yourself staying overnight, taking turns with Marcus to use his sleeping bag—he insisted where you didn't want to overstep, but sleep called you and his pillow was comfy.

Relentless practice proved to keep you on track and up to pace with everyone else, slowly but surely. The impressed glances shared between Tina and Sydney every time you had them taste a dish or were quicker than usual were enough, but Carmen was ever the critic. A new menu soon graced The Beef alongside their regular sandwiches, and it was a tough menu to master. You almost had them all down pat, practicing relentlessly for almost four weeks now after work.

However, every time you presented a steaming spoonful of stew, or a perfect bite of chicken piccata that everyone else in the kitchen seemed to love, Carmen would bite into it, hum, and shake his head. "Good." He said every time.

"Good like.. good good? Or good but start over, it's trash, throw it away?" You would ask, clearly waiting with baited breath on a slow day.

Carmy shook his head again. "It's not ready yet, Chef." And then he would be off to collect more expo receipts and leave you there disappointed, shoulders deflating in defeat.

"I think it's great, Chef." Marcus would smile, hands busy working on dough for his unmastered donuts. You would offer a sad smile in return, marching off to assemble another hoagie and handing your failed dish to a waiting Richie in exchange for an appreciative rub of his hands together. The negative feedback only spurred you to improve your craft as much as you could.

It was a rare occasion that Marcus didn't stay at the restaurant overnight. He left early in a frenzy after a phone call, muttering something about his mom's nurse needing him. Offering comfort wasn't your strongest suit, so you bid him luck and made a mental note to bring him his favorite coffee during work later in hopes to cheer him up.

At the same time you were plating what felt like your dozenth chicken piccata of the week, soft footsteps approached the kitchen. As soon as the timer went off behind you, you whipped around and hit the top, a harsh exhale and wipe of your forehead following the silence. You felt proud, plating and finishing your dish in record time without any hiccups.

A soft chuckle brought you out of your stupor, head snapping up to meet bright blue eyes from across the kitchen. There stood Carmy with his unruly curls, white tee and brown jacket he was beginning to pull off. In place of his usual stoic face was an amused expression, clearly not expecting to see someone in the kitchen at this hour.

You froze at the sight of him, but his soft smile eased your shoulders a bit. “Smells good.” Carmy said as if it was the most casual thing, hanging his jacket by the lapels on a hook. He sat on the bench, beginning to change his shoes into nonslip ones.

Stuttering, your cheeks turned pink. “O-oh, uhhh, thanks.”

“You’re here early.” He said back, standing now and readying to tug on his apron.

Brows furrowed, you looked above him to glance at the kitchen clock. Big red numbers read 6:15 AM and your brows raised in shock. Before you had a chance to respond, he walked closer, beginning to talk again. “I’ve noticed you and Marcus are always here before anyone else.”

You shrugged, nervous smile gracing your lips as they upturned slightly. “Ah, yeah. We both wanted to practice. Y’know, catch up with everyone else.” You explained. Conveniently, you decided to not mention the instances of spending the night, figuring it would be a little to embarrassing or earn you a talking to.

Carmy was now approaching the other side of the counter where you stood, hands tapping the steel. His little smug smile didn’t leave his lips as he nodded. “I also noticed a few things missing from our inventory.” His words were clearly teasing, but they made your face run pale.

“Fuck, I'm sorry, Chef. Take it from my paycheck, please—I didn’t even consider—“ The rambling was embarrassing, and his head shake cut you off.

“No, stop, Y/N. I'm teasing you.” Carmy laughed softly with a small smile, clearly endeared. The use of your name made you bashful.

A beat of silence followed, your mouth opening and closing like a fish. Carmy glanced behind you at the dish that laid perfectly plated, motioning to it with his hands. “Let’s see if your hard work is paying off.”

Blinking in surprise, you obediently nodded and turned to grab the dish. Sliding it in front of him, you gathered a fork and knife. Carmy grasped the utensils with a ‘thank you’, fingers brushing yours. It didn’t take long for the chef to dig in, eyes immediately closing once the first bite hit his taste buds.

“So.. what do you think?” You plucked up the courage to ask after he swallowed.

Carmy looked up at you, lips curling upwards and a proud look dawning his features. “Great, as usual.”

Usually those words would make you excited, but Carmy had a habit of complimenting your dishes before declaring how they weren’t good enough just yet. You simply nodded, swallowing thickly as he took another bite and savored the taste. “What should I change?” You asked, straightening your back in preparation for the inevitable criticism.

Humming, Carmy shook his head, the same amused look as before coming back. “Nothing, Chef. It’s perfect.” He said firmly. Those words made your breath leave your lungs, hands becoming clammy, and before you knew it you were grinning.

“Really?” You asked, not able to keep your excitement together.

Carmy let out a full laugh at that. “Really.” He confirmed.

You clapped your hands together before covering your face, hiding the grin as best you could. It had been awhile since you felt so elated due to cooking, and you weren’t quite sure what to do with yourself. You felt like the whole month of dedicating your time to cooking was culminating to this moment. Carmen watched you with soft eyes, taking in how happy his words made you. You turned back to him, giving up hiding how ecstatic you were. “I braised it differently this time, could you tell? Well, obviously you could if it’s good this time.” You rambled on, a bit of a giggle in your voice.

“It’s always this good, Y/N.” Carmy suddenly said. His words had you pausing, tilting your head playfully. Hand trailing along the counter, he rounded it to stand next to you.

"What do you mean?" You asked, smile falling a bit. The man's words echoed in your head and you looked around the room as if to try and find meaning from his statement. Surely he didn't have you remake the dish for no reason, right? But Carmy's strong posture and raised brows, waiting for you to figure it out yourself, made you think that's exactly what he did. Sobering up, you scoffed and crossed your arms as you sent him a look. "Are you serious? This whole time..." You trailed off.

"Yes, this whole time." He said, leaning on the counter with one hand, eyes not leaving you. "I needed you to bust your ass, Chef. I knew you needed the practice, so I gave you the motive." Carmy explained. The scrunch of your nose made his chest hum with something warm, akin to looking at a kicked puppy that he wanted to scoop up and reassure. Guilt washed over him a little bit as he feared he was acting more and more like his old Chef, but he pushed those feelings down as best he could. He did this for the right reasons, unlike that dickhead in New York did to him. There was no berating and preying on insecurities, just some tough love.

Sighing, you were torn between being angry and feeling grateful that Carmy saw this potential in you. You didn't know what to say, so you blurted out exactly how you felt. "I'm embarrassed."

Carmy frowned, ducking his head to catch your eyes where you looked down a bit. "Why are you embarrassed?" His voice was soft, tiptoeing as to not make you more upset.

Allowing him to meet your eyes, you curled into yourself at the attention. "Because I've made a fool of myself these past few months." You murmured, spilling your guts to your new boss for some reason that you didn't know. Maybe it was the quiet kitchen, or the sudden defeat you felt, but your mouth was faster than your mind.

A small 'no, no, no' left Carmy and he shook his head, reaching a hand out to place on your shoulder. "Don't be. I came in and turned shit upside down, it just took you a bit more practice to get the hang of things." His hand started to rub your arm comfortingly, leaving heat where he touched. You knew this must have been a form of an apology in his own way. The words didn't come easy to Carmen, but he tried to convey it the best he could.

Leaning forward, Carmy mustered his best stern expression, wanting to keep your gaze so you couldn't look away and distract yourself from his next words. Your breath caught in your throat, not used to this proximity. "I'm proud of you. You should be proud of yourself too."

Heat encapsulated your cheeks and you nodded, spurring him to nod as well. "Okay."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

As soon as Carmy saw your shy smile he gave one right back to you. Still close, he radiated heat that made it all the more difficult to calm the butterflies growing in your stomach. Eyes never leaving each other's, the air grew tense as the dust settled. Unlike the usual sandwich smell, an aroma of a clean linen scent came off of him as you realized he must have showered before coming here. Carmy never would admit it, but your perfume filled the air for him, making him linger longer than he should have. The blink of your stare looking up at him made Carmy's chest tighten, and he immediately pulled himself out of whatever trance he was in.

Clearing his throat, Carmy let go of your shoulder and backed up a bit. "No more all-nighter's here. Okay, Chef?" He tried to seem playful to rid himself of awkwardness and whatever that just was.

Mouth falling open, you gaped at him. "How did you know?!"

Hands up in surrender, Carmy just shrugged. "A Chef never tells his secrets," He began, heading over to the drying rack to busy himself, playfully adding, "And someone kept leaving the spare key out, so I figured." The smirk he sent you made you grin and roll your eyes.

Carmy would never tell you he knew because that's what he used to do. Before he got the hang of things in his earlier days as a chef, late nights in the restaurant kitchen and a half hour of sleep was the norm for him. As you began cleaning up your work the chef's gaze lingered on you, blue eyes studying your form with a thoughtful look. Carmy shook his head, smiling to himself and starting his work. He reckoned he saw himself in you more than ever.

[lightwing-s]

Just realized one thing, Tim responding Jason only to realise he's food!vlogger reader's bf and accept it in the most calmest way is so accurate, but what more accurate is that he will be freaking out in the most calmest way too. Like... pouring coffee in his cup and stop it the moment it almost full, like perfectly stop. having his book upside down yet still able to read out the original content like it doesn't bother him when the batkids point out (probably duke). having the idea of wanting to bake cookies but immediately oppose against the idea himself and disgust by it cos he knows well he has only mastered the coffee but not the food... and eventually, one day when steph or the other batkids swap out the newest video, the first thing that completely broke Tim (and cause him to laugh out while the others trying to figure out what's wrong with him) is when he finally come in term that Jason and reader dating and he immediately sabotage Jason like...

Tim: So, you're the boyfriend😏

Jay: ...

Jay: ...

Jay: ...Don't tell me the reason why even demon brat called me to check in you is because of this

Tim: THAT SON OF A BIT——

Tim: Well, the moment you figure out you're not the only one who dated normal civilian

Tim: You WOULD freak out

Tim: Even though your gf is an influencer

Tim: A good one

Tim: Say, can I come visit? Alfie knows and definitely trying hard not to brag, so you must let have someone for him to brag along

Tim: 🤓

Jay: ...

Jay: Fine. Come along.

Jay: But no coffee for 2 days before.

Tim: Deal.

Tim was having breakfast at lunch time after pulling an all nighter, sleep bags evident under his eyes and a large cup of coffee on the table. The steam emanating from it filled the entire kitchen with its strong smell, making Jason, who just entered the room, nearly beg his brother for a sip of the beverage.

Sitting down in front of him with his hard earned drink, Tim watched his brother’s arms crossing on his chest, the muscles well defined (a feat Tim was slightly jealous off) and bringing out a memory, an impression he had seen it before, but not on his brother.

Looking at Y/n’s latest cooking video, he watched as she assembled the plate and placed it in front of her boyfriend, whose muscular biceps popped off just like his brother’s.

Just like his brother’s. No way!

This realization shadowed Tim’s mind for the whole week. He wasn’t 100%, dead set on it being true, but it looked so much like him. So, he took upon himself to watch all of Y/n’s videos and analyze each and everyone of the mysterious boyfriend’s appearances until he found enough evidence to support his claim he was none other than Jason Todd.

The whole family got worried, though. Tim was quiet, aloof, had his mind elsewhere and they didn’t know where to point to. They even called Jason to check on him too, worry flooding their minds over their brother’s sudden weird behavior.

“Hey buddy, you’re alright?” Jason’s voice broke through the phone. “Everyone’s been saying you’ve been off lately, so I just want to make sure. Cass even said you poured coffee out of your cup! So you got us all worried and shit…”

“So, you are the boyfriend?’

Tim’s sudden inquisition left the line silent, not even Jason’s breath being heard through the line. It took him a while, but when sound came on the phone again, Jason’s voice was covered in what Tim suspected was joy and mockery.

“Don't tell me the reason why even demon brat called me to check in on you is because of this.” he asked, incredulous.

That little son of a bit- “Well, the moment you figure out not only that you're not the only one in the family dating a normal civilian, albeit somewhat famous herself, but also that this information was hidden right under your nose, you’d freak out yourself.”

Jason couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh, admiring his brother’s insane detective abilities (that he managed to challenge even if for just a while.

“Say…” Tim restarted. “Can I come visit?”

Hearing a quick denial, Tim still insisted. “I know Alfred knows, and he’s definitely trying hard not to brag about it, so you need to let him have someone to brag about it to.”

Another moment of silence followed, and Tim had to bite his nails to control his anxiousness.

“Fine.” Jason decided. “Come along.”

Almost throwing his arms up, Tim imagined all the food he would finally be able to try personally. 

“But no coffee for at least 2 days before you meet her.” Jason added. “I don’t want you acting all weird in front of her.”

“Can I have a Red Bull?”

“Not even those.”

Pretending to think for a while, Tim then replied. “Deal.”

It was only two days, anyway. Two day caffeine free to get a taste of Y/n’s heavenly food. It wouldn’t be that bad.

[uomminecraftsociety]

2024 UK Local Elections

So every set of elections we have in the UK, I kind of go crazy, pull an all nighter just following the election results by filling my own spreadsheet. But you know what... I'll shitpost election results here.

THESE ARE NOT RESULTS AS OF YET, THESE ARE AS OF YET UNANNOUNCED

Also, none of what I say really matters, I'm not an analyst or anything, just a guy who follows elections too excitedly.

Now granted, I don't know how late I will be able to follow the election results for, especially with how long it will take the election results will take to come in. I also can't follow all the elections so here are the ones I will be following:

Police and Crime Commissioners

Conservatives won 29 of the commissioner positions in 2021.

Labour won 7 of the commissioner positions in 2021, 3 of which were in Wales

Plaid Cymru won 1 of the commissioner positions in 2021

These elections generally cover rural areas, hence why it is so Conservative. These are areas which Labour would like too see gains in if they are to win the next general election, as many are predicting them to.

Council Elections

There are many council elections occurring, too many to properly follow but here are the ones I will be following:

Dudley - Currently Conservative but only just, a good indication of how much of a swing will occur.

Bristol - The results for the constituencies within Bristol for the upcoming general election could be quite an interesting one as many parties have shown promising results in recent council elections, this could be a good indicator for where the city could go.

Peterborough - Currently Conservative, with a mix of support for other parties, a good measure on how strong strong the swing to other parties are.

North Hertfordshire - No overall control, with very close results in 2021 between Labour, Conservative and Lib Dems, similar to Peterborough, would be a good indication of where new support lies.

Local elections which likely would likely lead to a conservative minority or even a mild conservative

Gloucester - Conservatives have 26 of a required 20 seats, with Lib Dems next largest 16 seats behind.

Havant - Conservatives have 28 of a required 19 seats, with 24 more seats than 2nd place Labour.

Greater Manchester Council elections will of course be followed as well:

Bolton - Labour minority, many parties in opposition with strong presence from Reform which could see an increase of support with the current swing.

Bury - Labour Majority, with Conservative minority and a similarly large local interest party.

City of Manchester - Strong Labour majority.

City of Salford - Strong Labour majority.

Oldham - Light Labour majority, Labour did poorly in recent neighbouring Rochdale by-election

Rochdale - Labour Majority, aforementioned by election results were poor.

Stockport - Liberal Democrats the largest party in minority with Labour close behind

Tameside - Strong Labour majority

Trafford - Labour Majority

Wigan - Strong Labour Majority

Mayoral Elections

All of the mayoral elections will be followed, though most noteworthy are:

Tees Valley - Strong support for the incumbent Tory candidate.

West Midlands - Less strong Conservative presence but often reported that their image in the area is independent of the party.

East Midlands - New mayoral position, probably would have gone conservative in 2021 if it were to run, but not strong support.

North East - New mayoral position, mostly Labour support and would probably stay that way.

York and North Yorkshire - Historically strong Conservative support, probably will stick that way. Region has Rishi Sunak's seat.

London Assembly and Mayoral Elections

What it says on the tin. All 3 polls will be followed.

Blackpool South By-Election

Probably will go Labour's way considering it recently flipped to the Conservatives, historically was Labour and the Conservative running there left on a scandal. Though as always, interesting to see the election swing.

[ultimateplaylistmaker]

I think the Reserve Course would naturally have very chaotic schedules. Like, Oh, that biology exam you crammed an all-nighter on? Ya that's been delayed to next year lol, sorry we didn't tell you. That chemistry quiz that would happen next month, and would've been a page long? Well it's happening now, and it's a dozen pages long because fuck you. Anyways, there's gonna be an important assembly on 2 PM Saturday that we'll only tell on our group chat at Saturday morning, and if you're late or don't come, then you'll get expelled, so good luck!

Yeah the whole point is to drain the kids of all their money and then toss them away like a goddamn vampire, they dont actually care about the kids education, its either sink or swim here

[jokertrap-ran]

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Main Story Chapter 2-24 LIGHT: 时间针脚 The Patchwork of Time Translation

"Are you sure you want to be wasting your time daydreaming?”

*Light and Night Master-list *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *Main story tag will be #For Light and Night

A couple of employees rushed over in a panic. They inhaled sharply at the sight of the mess that laid before them.

MC: Sorry!

Staff A: Don't mind, don't mind. It's not your fault.

Staff B: If we're to fault someone, then it should be that guy who simply ran away after wrecking our stuff. That's so inconsiderate!

Staff A: Let's not dwell on that now. Lin Yao's going to be using this fresh flower assemble for her photoshoot tomorrow. Let's hurry and split up the work so that we can fix it back up.

Lin Yao, huh…

I feel like doing more for her.

I tightened my hold on the paper bag in my hands, deciding to stay behind to help everyone clean things up.

The night grew as time passed. Everyone was almost finished with what they were doing.

One of the employees let out a huge contagious yawn, and soon, everyone caught the yawning bug.

I'd heard that everyone had pulled a couple of all-nighters just to set up everything for this photoshoot. They're all probably exhausted to the bone.

MC: There are only these fresh flowers left. I can do it myself, so you can all just go home and have a good rest.

Staff A: That won't do…

MC: Don't worry about it. You guys have to run the whole photoshoot tomorrow, so it's better if you use this time to get a proper night's sleep instead.

Staff B: We'll go first then. Thanks. We'll treat you to dinner next time!

The ceiling lights in the distance were a little dim, elongating my shadow. I was alone in this huge place.

Picking up two stalks of orange sunflowers, the image of the orange-coloured butterfly that Lin Yao had been holding flashes through my mind. I unwittingly breathed a sigh.

??: Are you sure you want to be wasting your time daydreaming?

MC: !

I jolted out of my skin, accidentally knocking a vase in my fright. It swerved on its axis for a bit before toppling right over.

Unable to formulate any other thought, my hand quickly shot out to catch it.

However, Sariel had also done the same.

❖☆———————————★❖

A chill spread up from my fingertips upon making contact with his hand. The coldness reminded me of a deep pond, eternally frozen within the depths of a vast snowfield.

MC: Sorry!

Sariel quietly stared at his hand that was still on the vase. His face was as emotionless as ever, yet the tips of his ears were faintly red.

MC: Thank you for helping me catch the vase.

❖☆———————————★❖

I carefully scrutinized his face as I slowly set the vase down onto the ground.

I thought that he'd at least jibe a couple of words at me, but he only opened and closed his mouth, as he'd just swallowed the words that had been on the tip of his tongue.

I let go of the breath I didn't know I'd been holding, but I still couldn't quite wrap my head around this whole thing. Why would Sariel appear here of all places?

MC: It's so late now, Director Qi. You're not off work yet?

Sariel remained silent for a full 2 seconds before turning his gaze upfront.

Sariel: No. I just happened to pass by.

MC: Pass by? But Warson's underground car park is in a totally different direction from this studio.

Sariel furrowed his brow, seemingly caught in an awkward situation.

Sariel: You're the most nosy person I've ever met.

Sariel: Do you have to poke your nose into every little thing once they come under your radar?

MC: I'm not that free. Besides, I'm only fixing these flowers up because…

Sariel: Because what?

MC: It's a long story. Anyway, I have things on my own plate.

Sariel: ...Whatever floats your boat.

So, he says. But he didn't look like he was going to leave, either. He didn't look like he was here to supervise progress… Did he come here just to snark a line or two?

Sariel: What are you dawdling for? Hurry and finish it up.

MC: Huh? I...

And that was how Sariel started directing me, much to my confusion.

Sariel: Higher.

Sariel: Change that out with a darker one. What are you picking 3 flowers of the same shade for? Match-3?

Sariel: Left side, 1cm lower. Has anyone ever told you that your folds look like paper that is soon to be shredded?

I hurried back and forth, rushing to make the adjustments to everything that he'd pointed out. But, it is also thanks to him that my efficiency exponentially increased.

MC: Thank you, Director Qi.

Sariel: I'm not—

MC: I know you're not helping me, but I still want to thank you!

I went a step further, putting words into his mouth with a smile.

Sariel paused for a moment. The moonlight that filtered in quietly shines upon his lips, making his face look softer under the light.

Sariel: Is there anything else yet to be completed?

MC: Nope.

Sariel: Good. I have a question for you.

Sariel wiped his hand with a handkerchief before putting it away, his expression turning serious.

Sariel: Earlier in the day while you were on your way here…

So that's what it was. I quickly lifted my hand and did a zipping motion with it to tell him that my lips were sealed.

MC: Didn't I already tell you that I didn't see anything? I definitely won't go around blabbing about this to others!

Sariel: I wasn't even doing anything, to begin with.

He frowned, silently staring at me for a while. Then, the sides of his lips quirked into a smirk.

Sariel: Nevermind. It can never be you, no matter what the case.

MC: Huh?

I couldn't understand what he was going on about. Sariel turned away with an indiscernible sigh of relief, walking ahead with big strides.

MC: Whatever are you talking about?

Picking up the dress, I hurried after his slowly disappearing figure as he went on ahead without me.

Sariel: Don't poke your nose where it doesn't belong.

MC: But weren't you poking your nose into my business earlier?

Sariel: ……

The night breeze blew against the azure blue ribbon on the display board, making it resemble blue waves with its fluttering.

❖☆———————————★❖

❖ Location: Dark Alleyway

The moonlight was like a flower blooming ever so quietly, swaying gently in the wind. In an alley not too far out, a streetlight, illuminating white light, suddenly blinked out of life.

A panicked figure collapsed into the alleyway, holding down onto their hat. It spooked the flock of birds that had taken residence up in the trees. However, he didn't stop there. He hurriedly walked ahead, disappearing into the darkness of the night.

Stepping on the ground illuminated by mottled moonlight, the man that had been chasing after him stopped to pick up an orange-coloured origami butterfly from within the fallen leaves. The faint metallic tang of blood hung in the air.

The erupting blue flames illuminated his sharp, predatory, eyes.

❖☆————— ⊹ For Light & Night⊹ —————★❖

Previous Part: (Chapter 2-21) | Next Part: (Chapter 2-24 Night) / (Chapter 3-1)

[peach-pops]

Roommate HC

Request:  hi i love ur account! do u think u could write a HC with kuroo, oikawa, and bokuto on how they would be as roommates! thank you!

Author’s Note: This request had me dying thank u so much! I made this to be platonic but if u guys want a part 2 to make them like each other/you want to see other roommate hc with other characters, let me know!

Warning: mentions of sex, adult language, reader thirsting over iwaizumi cause same 

Pairing: Kuroo || Oikawa || Bokuto 

Part two

-Kuroo-

You can only be roommates if you’re hella close with Kuroo because if you’re living in a closed space together, shit is bound to happen. He’s basically you’re best friend so nothing is off-limits. 

Exhibit A: Shower rants

“ And I told her to mind her own damn business before I kicked her ass!” You said loudly as you sat on the counter of the sink while Kuroo was showering

“ You liar I know you didn’t say all that. Also, can you hand me my toothbrush?”

“ Mm, okay, I didn’t say it but I was thinking it!” You grabbed Kuroo’s toothbrush and opened the curtain to hand it to him,” it’s the thought that counts but then she told me that I was being a bitch! In front of the whole class!” 

Kuroo opened the shower curtain to poke his head out,” She called you a bitch in front of the class? What a fucking bitch.” 

I feel like Kuroo sleeps in a bit and waits until the last second to wake up so you’re basically his alarm clock 

Your favorite way to wake him up is to just bash his head with a pillow until he grabs it from you and hits you back with it ten times harder

“ I think you gave me a concussion.”

“ I- It’s a pillow, you big baby.” 

Getting ready in the morning is always pretty chill since Kuroo practically rolls out of the bed, looks at his hair, and decides yep, this is stylish 

If he has extra time in the morning, he’ll sit on your bed and watch you do your makeup/hair as you tell him your schedule for the day just cause he can 

Can we please remember that Kuroo is a big nerd so that means a lot of all-nighters at the dinner table. If you know he has a big test coming up, you order takeout from his favorite restaurant and you have to physically sit across from him so he actually takes a break to eat dinner

Sometimes he falls asleep at the table while studying so you always grab his phone to set a 15-minute alarm because while he needs to sleep, he also needs the time to study too 

On chill days, Kenma usually comes over and the two play video games until the middle of the night. While they’re always super loud, that’s a lie it’s just Kuroo, but whenever they get too loud you come out of your room and you just glare Kuroo down 

“ What’s wrong with your face?”

“ My face? This face will be the last thing you ever see if you don’t shut the fuck up. Kenma sweetie, ✨you’re doing great✨!”

OH okay this is just a bonus

so your upstairs neighbors are like bunnies if ya know what I mean. Like they go at it 25/8 and you and Kuroo can’t stand it because how are yall supposed to concentrate 

One night while you and Kuroo are watching a movie, you can literally hear your neighbors having crazy-ass sex and Kuroo gets so petty. He grabs a broom from the kitchen and starts hitting it against the ceiling like

 ‘ Shut! The! Hell! Up!” 

“ STOP! What if they get mad?” 

“ Who cares? I haven’t had sex in months. If I can’t get laid than no one can get laid!”

“ I don’t even want to think about you and *gags* sex in the same sentence.” 

So all in all, Kuroo is probably the easiest roommate to have and you two just work so well together

-Oikawa-

Oikawa isn’t as bad as a roommate as people might think. He’s surprisingly clean and not only does he clean up after himself but he always cleans up after you. He will sass you on how messy you are though

“ Y/N-Chan, I can’t even see the floor to your bedroom, you’re disgusting! I can’t even look at you the same way!” 

“ If it’s bothering you then get the hell out of my room!” 

“ Your room is a biohazard, how can you live like this?” 

“ I SAID GET OUT SHITTYKAWA!” 

There’s only one bathroom in your apartment so it’s always a battle to get ready in the morning. His side of the sink has way more stuff than you and you even try out some of his products if they happen to find their way to your side

You can’t even hide it from Oikawa because once you leave the restroom, he notices right away 

“ Are you wearing that SPF moisturizer I bought from that new skincare store the other day?”

“ Wha- how did you know?”

“ I can smell it you rat, stop using my skincare products!” 

He says that but the next day when you wake up to use the restroom, you see that he bought you your own moisturizer and there’s a sticky note on it ‘ because you desperately need some’ 

Oikawa also always manages to lose his glasses in the morning so when he’s late, he always wakes you up to help him find his glasses which are somewhere around the apartment 

“ Bitch, how hard is it to keep it next to your nightstand before you go to bed?” 

“ I forget” 🥺👉🏼👈🏼Oikawa pouts as he squints back at you cause he’s a blind bitch 

If Oikawa is your roommate, that definitely means Iwaizumi, Matsukawa, and Hanamaki are always over. One time in the middle of the night, you went to go get a glass of water and you screamed so loud when you saw a dark figure sleeping on your couch 

Your heart literally dropped to the floor but when you squinted your eyes, you could make out that it was Hanamaki just crashing on your couch 

Thank god, you actually thought there was a stranger-

What you didn’t know was that Matsukawa was sleeping on the floor of the living room and you tripped over his huge, built ass body 

“ Y/N? Is that you? Are you okay?”

“ I’m fine-”

“ Ow! Y/N, that’s my hand!”

“ Shit! Sorry- wait, Hajime? Is that you? What the hell-Who else is sleeping here?”

“ Meeeee!”

“Toru?!?! What are you doing out here?” You asked as you turned on the lights to find all four boys camped out in the living room. TF is this? Summercamp???

“ Duh, it’s a sleepover! Wanna join? You can lay next to me Y/N-Chan!”

“ Fuck no you weirdo. Except for you Hajime😚 my room is always open for you!” 🤩🥰🤪🤰🏻 

Oh speaking of frick fracking, you and Oikawa have a solid rule that if you’re planning on having sex, please let the other roommate know so there’s not a repeat of that one incident you’re not allowed to speak of 

Toru: Can you be out of the house from 8:30-9:30? I’m bringing someone over👉🏼👌🏼

Y/N: You bastard I was going to bring someone over!

Toru: Oh yeah? Who u trying to fuck?👀👀👀

Y/N: Hajime 🤤🤤🤤🤤

Toru: STOP THIRSTING AFTER MY FRIENDS

Y/N: BUT IT’S TRUE LOVE!

Besides all of that mess, Oikawa is such a fun roommate. If yall could live together forever, you definitely would because the banter never stops between the two of you, yall are like an old married couple uwu 

-Bokuto- 

JESUS you two take a while to mesh 

You two are best friends so when he suggested to move in together, you were all for it 

But it just took some getting used to 

Bokuto wakes up sooooo early to go run and this means blasting music in the shower at 5am & him blending the shit out a smoothie in the kitchen 

One time, this dude barged into your room around 5:20 in the morning and had THE AUDACITY to ask if you wanted to go run with him 

“ I feel bad leaving you here in the apartment alone, what if you miss me?”

“ If you ever wake me up this early to go run out of all things, I will shave your head do not test me owl.” 

He never asks you again don’t worry but he does walk in your room to whisper, rather loudly, that he’s leaving to go run just to give you a heads up

On some mornings when he knows you’re going to have a long day at school, he’ll make you breakfast and it’s actually super sweet cause you two will eat together in the kitchen and talk about what the plan for the day is 

If he’s ever too lazy to make breakfast, he’ll grab your favorite pastries during his run and bring it home cause he’s just that type of person 

Bokuto is a bit messy and you find yourself cleaning up after him a lot but he makes up for it by being an absolute sweetheart 

He assembled all the furniture in the apartment because he likes building stuff and he claims it’s manly. Don’t Mind my language but ✨U couldn’t give a shit ✨about building furniture so you were 100% okay with it

Akaashi came over to help put the couch together and that was arguably the most entertaining thing you had ever seen

“ Bokuto-San, I’m pretty sure these pieces don’t fit.”

“ Akaashi! Are you doubting my ability to read and follow instructions?!?!”

“ I think he’s right, those don’t fit at all.”

*cue emo bokuto ughhhhhhh this bitch*

Whenever Bokuto gets emo at home, you drop everything to help him get out of his funk. Not because what you’re doing isn’t important but if you don’t help, this dude will show up next to your bed full on close to crying

“ Ko, it’s two in the morning, why are you awake?”

“ Are you angry at me that I broke that plate earlier?”

“ Wha- no I’m not mad over a cheap plate. Just go to bed PLEASE!” 

No matter how busy yalls schedule gets, you two always make time to have a movie night at least once a week because he claims it’s good for roommate moral 

It’s just an excuse for him to snack through the pantry but whatever

He’s also the worst at grocery shopping. Like he notices all the snacks and desserts you like so he’ll buy so much of those things but will fail to get actual protein and vegetables 

I know it seems like I’m shitting on Bokuto and I’m not, I feel like Bokuto would also be such a fun roommate. There are some nights where you two will dance around together in your pajamas and camp out on the couch together and those are the moments where you’re thankful he’s your roommate

But he snores so loud I’M SORRY I HAD TO SAY IT 

[bixisarusher]

Bix Reviews: Call Me Kat (Season 1, FOX 2021)

I thought a lot about how I feel about this show, and there are lots of words, so it’s gonna go under the cut.

In summary: I didn’t enjoy it quite as much as I hoped to, and i discuss why I think that was. BUT there are great things in this remake, and I want to name them as well!

There are two ways to look at Call Me Kat: As it’s own thing, and as a Miranda remake. As a Miranda Hart stan, I’ll have a lot more to say about the latter, so let’s start with the show itself.

On It’s Own

That felt appropriate, nvm me

It’s a cute show. It’s not a groundbreaking concept, and it’s not re-inventing the genre, but it has some really good things going for it:

Kat is happy and confident in her quirks, but doesn’t have it all together - so she has room to grow and is very sympathetic, all the while encouraging the viewer to celebrate their own quirks. Lovely! Also Mayim is a treasure and it’s great to watch her perform.

The show openly discusses “taboo” topics, like using anti-depressants and their side-effects, freezing your eggs, comparing yourself to a hallucinated version of your crush’s ex...  The show isn’t a trailblazer, (partly because there have been many great shows in the last couple years) but I thinks it’s awesome to see them further treading out the ground and normalizing these topics.

It has a nice set of characters that go through their indepent stories, I found myself excited for any new episode and enjoying the varying storylines. (Most of them Randi.)

And, although the last episode dragged it right back into the romantic territory, Kat has a genuine friendship with Max and I value that a lot. Neither of them harbours secret feelings, instead they are open and honest about it. The only thing they overdid here was to have an exchange of “Do you remember, when we were in college together and [blank] happened?” in at least every other episode.

Another thing on the down side: Neither the writers nor Mayim seem to fully know what to do with the fourth wall breaks. I don’t mind the thing, it just doesn’t feel fully rounded out - like how much they want to use it, what purpose it really has, ...

I think it’s due to the circumstances of the filming (pandemic restrictions and all), but more on that later. So much for the show itself.

As a remake

First of all: Do I love Jim Parsons for looking at this absurd british gem of a TV show and deciding “the world needs more stuff like this”? Absolutely! Because I agree! There were two or three moments that leaned on Miranda a little too much for their own good, but overall: it is content inspired by Miranda, but neither correcting, it nor copying it. More power to this concept.

More power to celebrating the silly joys in this live, to celebrate not being normal, more power to amazing friendships and women who find their own path. Call Me Kat does all of these things.

However, it doesn’t quite live up to it’s Mothership. Let me elaborate.

There is a myriad of reasons why Miranda works and I will not attempt to list them. However there’s one thing that does stand out to me in the original, and that I really miss in the adaptation: Miranda didn’t just write “a plot” and salt it with “a few jokes”. She carefully built tensions and different storylines to culminate together. Sometimes it’s a funny word that the character hears in the first act, and later nervously blurts out in the wrong moment. Sometimes it’s a parade of characters she met through the episode that all meet in one spot at the end. Or there is a throw away comment in the beginning of an episode that sets up a revelation toward the end.

I could swarm you with examples, a good one is in 1x03 Job: trying to impress Tilly, trying to deny waitressing, and then: the multiple “You weed in a ball pool?” and Gary in uniform walking in right on time to sell the lie about being an undercover commander. Another one of my personal favorites is in 2x04 A New Low, when Miranda in the end tells Gary that he lost her trust, and he’ll “never get to see her naked sweep” - and then he find’s the portrait Tamara did of Miranda’s “naked sweep”. Just hit’s right.

That is a testament to how well crafted the episodes are. In Call Me Kat? All Nighter and Gym had moments like that, and Double Date very early on set up Kat’s dream to use the sound system, but it just never reached that same level of mastermind.

But, in defense of CMK: Miranda was crafted over ten years with a full of 20 episodes airing (21 if you count the radio series) and the cast worked together a good year before they filmed the first series of 6 episodes. Compared to that, work on Call me Kat started around 2018, the cast was assembled in the first half of 2020 and started shooting in late October. They then shot 13 episodes in their first season. (which is more than half of the total episodes of Miranda, just saying) Sources: english wikipedia articles for Miranda and Call Me Kat, as well as Mayim’s Youtube. (Jep I did research for this.)

Also the CMK episodes were written and directed by a variety of people, while the Miranda episodes have all been at least co-written by Miranda Hart and all except for the last two were directed by Juliet May.

These are - as much as I as a humble consumer with a bit of wikipedia knowledge know - basic differences about how shows are made in the UK vs. in the US, and neither formula is any way of guarantee for the quality of the final product. However I think somewhere in those facts is the reason why the Miranda ship feels a lot more in shape and ... coherent. The pilot that we know and love is the fourth time they recorded the script, and I don’t even want to know how many times the script had been edited in between. The cast knew each other well, the material had been tested in front of multiple audiences. Call Me Kat had neither of these luxuries. On the contrary, CMK has been put together under restrictions due to the pandemic.

So on the one hand, I am majorly grateful that this show even got to see the light of day! That means that a full cast and crew had jobs in these trying times, and it means that we were provided with good entertainement.

On the other hand, the circumstances are showing in the final product. The cast had an awkward chemistry with each other, and the comedic timing, though not horrible, could have been a lot better.

This may be an unpopular opinion, but I think studio audiences can be a blessing. There is something about the actors having a genuine connection to real time observers that helps me as a screen audience connect to it. And for this staged multicam show that includes glances at the camera? I think a real audience would have grounded the concept. And it would have given the team a direct feedback as to which moments were working comedically and which weren’t.

What I’m trying to say is: they had big shoes to fill, and the odds were not really in their favor, and so it doesn’t really hold up in comparison.

That’s sad. But that doesn’t mean that it’s a horrible show. As I said in the beginning, I love that this show is done in the spirit of Miranda, even if it’s not just as good.

I have no idea how the show’s chances are to get a second season. If they do get renewed - I’ll keep watching.

-----

Now, let me finish with a few gifs that I feel like they can be applied to the whole “they remade Miranda and it went both ok and less then ok but at least the word is being spread, right?”-situation.

because Kat/Max is good but could anything ever be Miranda/Gary?

Not really...

ok that one’s a bit rude. but you thought it, too.

Jim turning in bed at night overthinking if Mayim was the right choice. But she was. Much like Stevie was for Miranda.

Honestly a very good part of the remake is Mayim and Cheyenne performing together! I personally think this moment above is responsible.

Trying to match the CMK characters to the Miranda characters like: I thought Phil is supposed to be the Customer but turns out Phil originally was supposed to a Phillys? So Phil is Stevie, but then who is Randi? Tilly? So many questions.

And with that, dear Caller, back to you.

[kyber-crystal]

Set Up

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: ~3.3k

Summary: In which the Avengers are relentless in their attempts to get you and Steve together. If this means going great lengths such as sending you off on a mission-disguised romantic getaway to make you realize your feelings for one another, they’ll seize the chance at the very moment it’s presented to them.

Warnings: None. Just tooth-rotting fluff bc I’ve really been needing it ahaha

A/N: Set in an AU 2017 timeline in which they reunite a year after the whole Accords situation so that everyone’s happy :)

"Rogers. Parasite. Stop watching Brooklyn Nine-Nine and get up, you need to get to the meeting room ASAP," Tony stated.

"Says the one who leeches off my granola bar supply," you grumbled as you shot him a death glare. "You've been doing this to me since I was a toddler. A helpless, two-year old against a 16 year-old demon always hungry for everyone's food but his own."

"Still holding the Full House cereal incident against me? Geez, woman, do you ever release your grudges against anyone," he sighed, rolling his eyes. "Now come on, let's go."

Exchanging a confused look with Steve, you stood up and followed Tony down the hallway to the meeting room, where Fury was with the rest of the team, waiting.

"Captain Rogers, Agent Y/N," Fury nodded curtly. "I presume you know what's going on?"

"No, sir."

"I need you two to track down a group of mercenaries in downtown Tokyo. You'll be flown out commercially so you can maintain a low profile. The whole process should take no longer than ten days," he explained as Natasha handed him the printed out flight details. "Further information will be given to you upon arrival."

"If it's just the two of us, then why is everyone here?" you pointed out.

"Barton and Maximoff will be checking in with you regularly; and if backup is necessary, I will fly one of them out to meet you. If you don't have any more questions, this meeting is now dismissed. You'll be departing late tonight so if I were you, I'd get to packing right about now."

...

Soon enough you were all packed and ready to go. Because you were too lazy to reach back into your suitcase and grab a sweatshirt, you took Steve's Dodgers hoodie and slipped it on, along with a pair of your favorite sweatpants.

"See you in ten days, okay?" Natasha pulled you in for a tight hug. "Make sure to keep Rogers company, it's a long flight. This is also the perfect opportunity to grow closer...literally."

"Oh shut up, Nat," you scoffed. "We're not...you know."

"Sure you aren't."

"Tony, why don't you get some good rest for once," you turned to your brother, "alright?"

"As long as you admit you're in love with Capsicle," he whispered into your ear.

"I can't admit what's not true."

"Yeah yeah, I can't understand bullshit."

"Tony."

"Y/N," he mocked. "Anyway. Have a safe trip, don't die, yada yada yada."

"Yeah yeah, got it."

A few more rounds of goodbyes later, you and Steve were in the elevator with your luggage, heading down to where Phil was waiting to drive you to the airport.

Your flight was scheduled to take off at 1:45 in the morning, and it was close to 11 p.m when you arrived.

"Your tickets, please," the lady asked as you were about to board the plane. You took them out from your purse and handed them over to her. "Thank you."

"How long's the flight again?"

"Uh...about 14 hours. Pretty long," you replied, as you walked down the aisles, looking at the overhead letters for your seat. "24A, 24B...there we go. Wait, have you been to Japan before?"

"No, I haven't."

"You're gonna love it. They have the best, I tell you, best ramen, and curry, hands down. When Nat, Wanda, and I went on our girls' vacation last spring we wouldn't stop eating for two days straight. I know we're tracking down cold-blooded killers and all, but, it won't hurt to let loose a little, you know?"

"Yeah, definitely," Steve couldn't help but smile at how happy you looked while speaking. "You gotta be our tour guide. I'm trusting you'll lead us to the best ramen hotspots?"

"Oh yeah, I will."

After putting your things into the overhead bins, you settled into your seats. The armrest between you could be lifted convert the seats into a double bed, you quickly found out.

Shortly after taking off you felt yourself grow rather tired. Noticing your sleepiness, Steve raised the armrest and pressed the button to make the seats recline backwards, your head immediately falling against his broad chest. He smiled again, brushing stray hairs away from your forehead before pulling the blanket over your bodies and falling asleep as well.

Little did either one of you know, you were being sent off to Japan for a completely different reason that had absolutely nothing to deal with tracking down mercenaries.

...

The smell of food wakes you up several hours later. You stretched your arms up and ran a hand through your hair as you sat up, adjusting your neck pillow.

"Hey uh, how long were we out for?" you asked, voice still thick with sleep. Steve was already awake, in the middle of watching a movie on his TV.

"4 hours. You knocked out for 5. It's time for lunch...or dinner?"

You tapped your screen a few times to pull up the map of your flight's route. "Right now it's 7:30 p.m. in Tokyo. We're arriving at 4:45 in the morning, so I'd say dinner."

"You sleep okay?"

"Hm? Yeah," you yawned, rubbing your eyes and adjusting the sleeves of Steve's hoodie. "You make a good pillow."

"No problem," he chuckled. You then turned to the flight attendant, who handed you your meals.

"Fancy," you nodded in approval as you passed Steve's tray over to him. "First class sure has its perks...oh yes, miso soup."

You binged your way through several episodes of Pretty Little Liars, I Love Lucy, and Star Wars: A New Hope together. Afterwards, you purchased Wi-Fi so you could update the team on your status.

CHATROOM - AVENGERS ASSEMBLE

Natasha: Morning, lovebirds. You guys in the air already?

You: Yeah, we're eating dinner right now. What time is it back home?

Tony: 6:45 a.m. Pulled an all-nighter binge-watching The Office.

Bucky: Totally worth losing an entire night's worth of good sleep.

Y/N: But I still don't get why we couldn't take the Quinjet?

Steve: ^

Rhodey: Do we tell them now, or wait until they land in Haneda?

Wanda: I'd say now.

Pietro: NO NO NO MAKE IT A SURPRISE

Steve: ...What's going on?

Tony: There's no mission.

Y/N: Wait, what? Then what are we going to Tokyo for?

Tony: I purchased a romantic ten-day vacation package so that you two will hopefully realize your feelings for each other along the way. Thank me later.

Y/N: SCREW YOU

Tony: Enjoy eating all the ramen you want!

Natasha: We're so good at matchmaking.

Thor: May I suggest a virtual high-five?

Peter: VIRTUAL HIGH-FIVE :))

Thor: :))

Y/N has left the chat.

Steve has left the chat.

Tony: They're gonna thank me when they see the penthouse I bought.

Tony has left the chat.

"Well, guess we're going on vacation. At least there's more opportunities to eating good food," Steve shrugged.

"Yup." You felt your heartbeat pick up speed at the thought of being alone with him, for ten days, in a country that was considered both futuristic and romantic at the same time. "Plenty of time to eat ramen and sushi."

Deep down, he was glad that there wasn't any mission. And so were you.

You took an hour-long catnap before waking up again and playing a few rounds of Uno with him, then stayed up for the rest of the flight. You both knew you'd regret doing so because of the 13-hour time difference between NYC and Tokyo, but you were too excited to care at that moment.

You were dazed and still slightly tired when you disembarked the aircraft, so you didn't have any energy to question how you and Steve ended up with your fingers intertwined. Besides, you liked the way it felt.

At close to 5 in the morning, Haneda International was relatively quiet and not too busy, so immigration didn't take long. You didn't have to worry about being bombarded by fans, aside from the occasional foreign fan recognizing you two and asking for a quick autograph or picture.

Since you wanted to explore the airport a bit before taking the train downtown, you looked around at the various shops.

Being a former spy alongside Natasha before joining the Avengers, you were fluent in multiple languages, including Japanese, Russian, French, Spanish, and German. And despite having developed the habit of always preparing for what was to come, you were completely shocked hearing a perfect Japanese sentence roll out of Steve's mouth as he spoke to the cashier.

You practically swooned at how smooth his voice sounded.

"Kore wa ikuradesu ka?" He gestured to one of the kokeshi dolls on display dressed in a sapphire colored kimono with cherry blossom embroidery. (How much is this?)

"3500 yen," the lady replied, "Hatsubai-chū, 3000. Kōnyū shimasu ka?" (On sale, 3000. Would you like to buy it?)

"Hai, kōnyū shimasu." (Yes, I'd like to buy it.)

"Kanojo no tame ni?" (For her?)

"Hai." (Yes.)

She nodded, and Steve handed over several folded bills from his wallet after she finished bagging the item.

"Arigato, gokigen'yō," he thanked her. (Thank you, have a nice day)

"Anata modesu," she smiled warmly. (You too)

"Holy crap, you didn't tell me you were fluent in Japanese, Rogers," you gaped as you walked out of the store together. "When did you have the time to learn it?"

"Back during the Pearl Harbor bombing, Buck and I were sent off with the 107th to Hawaii. Figured it'd be useful if we learned a few phrases."

"Few?" you raised an eyebrow at him. "What you just did back there, that was not just a few phrases! That was fluency!"

"What can I say, I pick up on language quickly," he grinned, rubbing the back of his neck. He then handed you the bag with the doll inside. "Here, for you."

"You didn't have to—"

"Consider it my thank-you in advance for taking me to a good eatery," Steve explained.

After grabbing a quick breakfast of coffee and pastries, you took the elevator down to the train station.

You let out a sigh as you sat down, the cool air inside the train loosening the tension in your shoulders a bit. A short fifteen minutes later and you were back in one of your favorite cities in the world.

Steve took a picture of you as you were distracted from looking all around at the skyscrapers and people milling around, face lit up by all the bright and colorful signs, sending it to the chat.

Steve: Just arrived downtown. Got out of the airport half an hour ago.

Tony: Honeymooning Avengers, how cute

Sam: That's hot.

Steve: What time is it over there?

Wanda: We just finished eating lunch. You?

Steve: 7. Going to check into the penthouse. Talk to you guys later.

Wanda: Alright.

Sam: Have fun, lovebirdssssss

Steve has left the chat.

"So," he breathed out as he slipped his hand back into yours and you exited the station, "you ready to go check out where we're staying?"

"Yeah, definitely. You wanna take the subway again, or a taxi?"

"Subway. Actually..taxi. You sound nice when you speak in a foreign language."

"That's the only reason why you want to take a taxi?"

"Yeah, obviously," you scoffed. "I mean, why else?"

"Alright, if you insist," the super-soldier laughed.

A few minutes later, you'd called a taxi over and climbed into the backseat, strapping your seatbelts on.

"Ohayögozaimasu," (Good morning) the man greeted. "Ogenkidesuka?" (How are you) "Īdesu, anata wa?" Steve replied. (Good, and you?)

"Watashi mo jōzudesu. Doko ni ikitai?" (I am good, too. Where would you like to go?)

You looked at your phone, reading out the address of Tony's penthouse to the driver.

A few minutes passed in silence before he spoke up again. "Watashia wa anata-tachi o shitte imasu. Anata wa abenjãzudesu," the driver smiled, glancing at you two from the rearview mirror. (I know you two. You're the Avengers)

"Watashitachidesu," he returned his friendly grin. (We are!)

"Tōkyō ni kuru kikkake wa nanidesu ka?" (What made you come to Tokyo?)

"Chōdo kyūka no tame." (Just for vacation.)

"Nokori no taizai o o tanoshimi kudasai," he said as you were getting out of the car after paying. "Sayonara."

"Sayonara," you and Steve responded before closing the car door behind you.

"Wow," your jaw dropped as you took the elevator up, arriving at the top floor. "Tony actually bought...this...place?"

"Apparently," Steve shrugged, "we could come back and forth between here and the compound as often as we wanted."

The penthouse had a nice, dark aesthetic feel to it, with giant panoramic views of the entirety of Tokyo and modern furniture and spots of dimmed white lights in the ceiling to give off a relaxed vibe.

After unloading your things, you sat down at the giant couch together and decided to plan out the rest of your day.

"When CoCo Curry opens at 11, we can go eat there," you explained as you typed up the plan in a new note. "Tony also snagged us tickets to Tokyo Tower at 3 p.m, so we have a few hours to spare after lunch."

"We can explore the gardens,"  he suggested. "I know you love doing that. There's a botanical garden in Shinjuku we can go to."

"Oh, that one! I didn't have the chance to go last time, so that's perfect," you added 'Shinjuku Gardens' to your list.

Soon enough you had your entire day planned out, and were ready to head out once again.

CoCo Curry was a quaint, little restaurant that hit you with a wave of tantalizing scents as soon as you walked through the doors and sat down at the bar-style seating area where you could watch the chefs cook your food.

"Gonichiwa," you greeted the chef standing behind the counter.

"Gonichiwa," he smiled back. He asked for your orders, and since Steve wasn't sure what to get you had two orders of your favorite dish.

Besides another couple sitting a few seats away, the restaurant was empty so you got your food in under ten minutes. The steaming hot plates of curry rice were set in front of you, and you felt your mouth water as you inhaled the rich aroma.

"This is so good," Steve spoke in between bites. "I'm literally in love."

"Told you I knew my stuff."

You eventually finished eating, and after getting into a small argument with Steve over who would pay (He ended up winning). "It's payback for ordering me good eats," he explained.

"You said that when you bought me the kokeshi doll," you pointed out.

"Still."

This time you decided to go by foot instead of taking the taxi, as the gardens were only a half-hour or so walk from where you were.

"Right in the middle of cherry blossom season," you sighed as the sweet smell of cherries drifted through the air. "Perfect timing."

You walked around the entire place, stopping every so often to admire the various colorful plants or look up at the pastel pink cherry blossom trees, gravel crunching underfoot with each step you took.

The mid-April breeze lightly fanned your hair around your shoulders. Birds chirped out a delightful melody, flying around the cornflower-blue sky. It wasn't too hot or too cold, and that was one of the many things you loved about visiting Asia during the springtime; the weather was bearable, compared to New York City's below-freezing temperatures in winter. You vividly remembered visiting the botanical gardens in upstate New York on a school trip once, and from then on you'd grown attached.

In the centre of the garden was a large lake with flowering lily pads and on the other side of the bank stood a quaint little temple, with a wooden bridge across the middle so visitors could cross over and look at the koi below.

"It's beautiful here," Steve commented as you made your way down the sidewalk, "I wish they had places like this back home."

"Yeah it is, isn't it," you breathed out, unable to tear your eyes away from the lovely sights. "I could do this all day."

"Hey, that's my line," he joked. You chuckled quietly, slipping your hand into his. He laced your fingers together in response, and you felt the butterflies flutter around in your stomach again the longer he held on, and those butterflies turned into hummingbirds as you looked up to meet his piercing gaze.

You're not sure how long you stay like that, gazing into each others' eyes, but it's only when a little girl stops and asks to take a picture that you pull away.

"Captain America and Agent Y/N!" Judging by her looks, she seemed like she came from the US as well. "Can I get a picture with you guys?"

"Of course, sweetie," you smiled. You brushed off the weird feeling you got when your skin made contact with Steve's, and gestured for her to come closer.

Steve scooped the girl up into his arms as she held your hand, and the mother snapped a few quick pictures before he let her back down.

"Thank you!" she exclaimed before skipping away.

At 2:20 you decided to leave and head out to the Tokyo Tower early so you would be avoiding any possible long lines. You were up at the observation deck within twenty minutes.

"This is just....wow," you breathed out, in awe of the breathtaking view you got as you stared out the panoramic windows, the reflective walls casting thin rays of light onto your faces.

If you thought the view from your penthouse was nice, this was a hundred times better. You had almost nothing preventing you from being able to see the entire city in all directions. The sun was hanging high in the sky, the skyscrapers piercing the horizon like pins and needles.

Steve couldn't help but let his gaze linger on you, the way your face brightened up at the sight of Tokyo's stunning view, the way you laughed and smiled more than you ever did back home. It was a rare sight, and he wished he could see you in this state more often. Oh, the things he'd do to keep hearing your musical laugh and million-dollar smile.

...

The next day was jam-packed with activities. You took a two hour train ride down south to Osaka, exploring the cup noodles museum, shopping downtown in Dotonbori, and stuffing yourself with delicious pastries along the way. Before you headed back, you decided to stock up on groceries at the local market. 

You fell asleep almost as soon as your head hit the pillow that night, waking up to somehow finding yourself in Steve’s arms. You both woke up at the same time, confused as to how you had gotten yourselves into this position, but were too embarrassed and tired to ask. 

This time, you decided to stay within Tokyo, immersing yourselves in going to as many districts as you could and doing as much as possible. 

After a long day exploring the city, you were rather exhausted. With a cup of freshly brewed matcha in hand, you stayed quiet for a while as you soaked in the scenery, watching the city come alive late at night.

When Steve woke up from his nap a few hours later, he found you standing by the window. Smiling to himself, he got up, approaching you and wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, resting his chin atop your head.

"Hi," you greeted, setting your mug down on the coffee table besides you.

"Hey," he murmured into your ear. You closed your eyes and hummed quietly in response, letting your bodies rock back and forth to the rhythm of your steady heartbeats together.

"Watashi wa, anata o aishiteimasu," (I love you.)

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "Watashi mo anata o aishitemasu, Cap." (I love you too, Cap.)

You stepped away so you could turn around to face him, and he pulled you back towards him and pressed his lips to yours.

He couldn't help but smile into the kiss, pulling you closer against him.

[namjoonchronicles]

dissertation | yg

↳ genre fluff, domestic, established relationship 

↳ words 3.1k

↳ summary many people doubted your union, how exactly an artist with as much influence as yoongi be a husband to a wife that is still studying. 

↳ warning that side of adulthood, lockdown because of pandemic, mentions of anemia

↳ song kodaline ‘saving grace’

It was a thunderstorm that night, when Yoongi laid in bed alone. Face shone by the light on his phone and he was squinting to see the news article clearer. He ran his fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp gently-- a habit he had. He glanced at the time mark on the top right corner of his phone, then to your side of the bed that remained empty. It’s 2:34 AM. Rolling several times over the width of the bed, Yoongi set his foot on the floor and made his way out the opened door where the light from the hall was still on. The ash blue hallway hall, and the wooden floor that creaks under his weight would not guarantee a smooth entry, but his concern was that you might have fallen asleep on the desk, although this was highly unlikely. He just wanted to check.

Took a peek, through the door gap of your study room. Lights on, papers everywhere, whiteboard filled with medical jargons he doesn’t understand. Your laser focused eyes, glasses sliding down your nose, pen in between your lips and typing sounds filled the room. Your purple pencil case unzipped with its contents scattered, next to the coffee mug. And the calculator facing down. Your phone is close by although Yoongi predicts it to be in silent mode. As it had been, since 2010. That’s why you never answer his call the first time. And when you’re in this study mode, an airplane could land in the living room and you wouldn’t even notice. Heck, if he was talking to you in this state, you would look at him blindly and heard absolutely nothing he said. Yoongi knows too well. After the short peek that went unnoticed by you, Yoongi waddled to the kitchen and ran the coffee machine to start.

He scratches his temple while he ensures the machine begins working, then walks to the fridge. Yanks it open to see what is inside. Some old ripen kimchi, newer batch kimchi, some milk and apples. He ran his eyes through several more things and took out two apples. He bought this for your fibre intake. The last visit to the doctor, you were recommended to take more fibres in, as well as iron because you are still anemic. Despite the considerable diet change by Yoongi, the blood count doesn’t project the effort. It was then decided by the nutritionist and doctor, together, that you have to take pills as well as monthly checks while they send your blood result to the lab for thalassemia management, if diagnosed. Yoongi carefully ran the apples under the water, gently. He begins to peel the skin with a knife, and then, wedges them. He places them in the bowl and by then, the coffee has started to pour into the mug he had prepared underneath.

The blue light from the screen is making you pinch the bridge of your nose. Creases begin to form in between your brow as the numbers you obtained from the experiment did not become tally to the theory, suggesting a mechanical error. With the restriction order loosening up, going down to the lab is allowed, but you figured that many other post-graduate students might squabble for a time slot to use the lab.

“Should have calibrated the thing before I started the experiment,” you silently cursed underneath your breath.

Yoongi pushes the door open with his back and reveals a tray, scuffling and making a lot of noise. He set the bowl with apples and switched the cold coffee mug with a new piping hot one. Your whole face lights up.

“Why are you not asleep yet?” you sang. Eyes following him. “How can I sleep, when you’re suffering like this,” he said in a straight voice, almost emotionless, that makes it hard to believe that he was being affectionate. But that’s Yoongi for you. “There were apples in the fridge?” “Don’t lie, we bought them together… If I don’t wedge them out like this, you won’t even eat it,” he nags, “Did you even take the pills for today?” “I did,” you shoved one wedge in your mouth.

“Before or after the coffee?” He was standing next to you and your head was tilting back to see him. “Before,” you chuckled through your nose.

Yoongi turned his attention to your work.

“Is there still a lot to do?” He mutters, kneeling by the table next to your chair. You comfortably circled your arm around his neck from your chair and buried your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent and nodding as a response to his question. He smells like bedsheets, you thought to yourself. Yoongi’s wedding band shone under the bright light of your study room, and as he is careful not to disturb your work, he couldn’t help but worry about your mental state. He knows just how much stress you could handle and even if you weren’t shy away from an extremely stressful situation, it is the first for this kind of work environment. You told him that the mindset of working from home is entirely different from the ones actually working in the work area. But he always reminds you that, you weren’t working from home, you are at home, working.

“I saw the numbers and I knew that it was tally with the theory we learned in lectures, and have been hammering my head on what went wrong, so I checked on my methods and it was all correct, so it must have been the machine,” you turned to the side to see the laptop, still clinging onto him. Yoongi turns to the side and plants a kiss on your hair, standing up slowly.

“What do we do?” Yoongi leans his hip on the desk and folded his arm, looking down at you who is by now, pouting, helplessly.

“Either I go back to the lab and redo the whole painstakingly slow experiment, or just write the whole report and blame it on the error, and thicken my skin when my doctor screams at me for incompetency to run experiments, and ruin my credibility for the rest of post graduate pharmacy faculty,” you shrugged sadly.

Yoongi pouts too, now.

“Don’t stay up too late,” he gathers your head and sandwiched your face between his hands and kisses the skin between your brows, while your hand slid down his hip then over his butt, before grabbing the butt cheeks, playfully. You watch his back grow smaller and smaller as he gets to the door, leaves a gap between the door and the door frame big enough for an ant to enter, and leaves you to your work. You turned sideways to the word documents you have, and then to the calculations on the board on the far left of the room, and just, let out a massive sigh.

Several times the alarm clock vibrates on the bedside table next to you, and your hand would swiftly grab them to snooze mode, every single time. That eventually stops when the heat from the duvet chases you out and when you realise that it was no longer noon, it was actually almost 3pm. Your head pounds immediately, and even then you were counting the hours you slept to see if it was appropriate. Eversince the lockdown began, your sleep schedules have become even more disorganized. Doctor said looking out the window would help, but walking outside once in a while to get groceries proves to be even more helpful than the former. Yoongi always gets the groceries because he usually cooks. Now that the lockdown has slowly lifted, Yoongi started to go to the company building to resume his work, but you’re stuck at home because the university recommended studying from home.

Apart from having to use the lab now and then, there is no need for you to constantly be at the university. Even the lectures are held online, and assignments are submitted through emails. Group work is discussed through video conferences. But you’re an old school gal who always preferred to have her notes printed so you could scribble over the things you needed to do, and it makes organising tasks a lot easier. Walking into the study room, you saw the printer not where you set them. In fact, it has its own table with rollers on them, the cables are hidden and neatly bound by the computer, ready for use. The overall set up is neat. It made you smile first thing in the day. Because you knew who had done it that way, and you wondered how he made all this--assembling the tiny table and putting rollers on it, so quietly, that you managed to sleep through it.

At the office, Yoongi was just leaving a small meeting room. He has his facemask down covering his chin as he sifted through the papers handed to him by one of his staffs. The staff is standing nearby to wait on his comments. Upon waiting the staff realises that Yoongi had a bandaid on his thumb.

“A minor accident today, nothing to worry about,” Yoongi shrug it off and quickly turned the attention away from him, “...I think it looks pretty good, try to proceed with it first, and show me how it sounds.”

“Through email or Kakao?” “Kakao, because I don’t have the laptop fixed yet and the ones at home are out of discussion,” Yoongi added a chuckle at the end, slapped the staff’s shoulder and excused himself, just when his phone vibrated an incoming message. And a photo, sent by his wife.

“Babe?” - wife

It reads. A photo followed. Of the perfectly set up study station of his wife.

Yoongi smiled and dug his tongue to his cheek, clamping his lower lips between his teeth. He types a reply while leaning to one side of the office wall, by the hallway. Crossing his ankles.

“You’re welcome. Study well~~ Also, we’re having takeouts tonight.” - yoongi

The message chimes in. A jar of cookies in arm, you were nibbling on one java chip cookie while unlocking your phone to read Yoongi’s message. That’s strange. Takeouts?

“But I can cook. And its weekdays.” - wife

”Nonsense. You pulled an all-nighter last night. We are having takeouts. There’s this good new restaurant the staff had been hyping. Think we should go there.” - yoongi

”Okay… whatever you say then. <3 - wife

Yoongi shoves his phone in his back pocket and walks down the hall to his studio. On the way there, he passes by Hoseok who was just leaving.

“Where are you off to?” “Getting lunch, want to go get lunch together?” “Sure.” “Namjoon is joining us too, I’m waiting for his reply.” “Great…you guys decided where?” “There’s a BBQ house I know that sells really good broiled chicken feet.”

Twenty minutes went by since the last text with Yoongi and you had been staring at the calculation on the whiteboard thinking about Krispy Kreme’s premium donuts. You wonder if the outlets are open, as they should be because the lockdown never closed businesses. Yoongi would know, you figured.

“Yeah they are opened, Why?” - yoongi

“I am craving for the ones with the KitKat on, I think my period is coming on soon…” - wife

“We can have that as desserts later no problem, I sent you lunch, and it should be there in 25 minutes. - yoongi

“Yay! What are you having?” - wife

“Broiled chicken feet with Hoseok and Joon.” - yoongi

”That’s not...what you got me… right? - wife

”Of course not, I got you Kimchi jjigae with tofu, and some kimbaps.” - yoongi

Phew. For as long as you’ve gotten married, not once have you doubted that Yoongi wouldn’t understand your palate. But he is quite a prankster sometimes. Even if he is not as savage as your inlaws are, to put strange food in front of your plate, there’s a certain degree of cheekiness of him at stake. You were a bit of a picky eater should it hit you at a specific time of the month. Sometimes you could eat chicken liver with minor problems, sometimes you would vomit at the thought of it. Yoongi had been dealing with the latter, quite a few times now. You have about 3 blister packs of anti-nausea pills at home just to cope with it. Acquaintances and distant relatives would insinuate that you were pregnant, but that isn’t the case. Doctor said it would be difficult to have a baby with your anemia uncontained, and you and Yoongi both would not risk having a child while you were struggling with it.

It is just not worth the while. The risks are too great. Malformed, cleft-lips, premature--the list of risks are endless. Let mommy take care of herself first.

Hoseok drove to the restaurant he was talking about. They got a room to themselves, abiding the social distancing rule with several chairs spread apart. When the food arrives, Yoongi could understand why Hoseok loved the chicken feet. It’s savory down to the bone. He picks the pickled yellow radish with his chopstick and devours it with a mouthful of rice. Hoseok began asking if Yoongi would consider taking his wife here. Namjoon was sitting there answering a call, and had to leave the room so the sound of the grills didn't distract him from the call. Yoongi downed a glass of chinese tea before answering with a groan.

“She doesn’t eat those things. Chicken feet, gizzards, those weird smelling things that don't go away even when you cook it properly…” “Don’t she have that thing, anemic? Anemia, the blood disease?” “Yea, she’s on pills treating that, and I’m also fixing her diet, but she is plunged with work so she takes in more coffee, so that would disrupt the pills function, I heard from the doctor. The woman is a caffeine addict, I don’t think she’ll slow down anytime soon, especially not now.” “I see. She is pretty stubborn…”

Hoseok suddenly burst out laughing, and the reason was, “I remember that one time she went on a full force rant on why you shouldn’t place the picture frame where it was, how did it go though? She went like, why is it on the far left of the light like that…”

Yoongi’s eyes quickly disappeared as his smile grew wider at the memory. He remembers that day so well. You both just moved into the apartment you are living in now and several arguments were brought out as the apartment progresses into a living space and more and more things come in.

“I was the man of the house,” Yoongi pauses and, “So we hang it the way she wanted.”

When Namjoon walked in, Hoseok was full-blown laughing.

“You honestly think I would win against her? She’s a fucking scientist… It’s her world, I’m just living in it, bro.”

Yoongi’s lips pursed as he took another meat into his mouth and chewed, with one knee propped up. The boys continued to talk about their future plans. The games they could watch and eventually, work and where they are heading next. Namjoon was visibly cornered by it all so they were working out balancing work and passion, and it’s usually a difficult thing to do. They were lucky to be loving the job that helps put food on the table. But love can turn to hate so easily. Along the way, one could hate it so much, one could consider leaving it. It would feel like a good choice at the time, but eventually, they will think about longevity, and what makes money. Which is the reality of living.

Yoongi’s whole world is music. And your whole world is science. Both are the opposite side of the same coin. Through the differences, there are many quarrels and conversation shoved under the rug for later days. It is never comprehensible why one would do such a thing, in the perspective of a stranger, but when you are in a relationship, tolerance is as important as communicating, and the two go hand-in-hand with each other. It is only in a relationship that you see someone whose upbringing is so completely different from yours, try to understand the way you were brought up and the values you grew up with, the same way you try to understand theirs. They could be the one who mindlessly folds the doormat messily after they leave the bathroom and doesn’t fix it. Or they could be the one who is passionate about feeding cats but never cleans up after the poos. Or you could be so rigid in your ways of doing things that you simply cannot be flexible.

Or walk the room with their hair dripping wet and leave trails of water droplets around the house. Or leave the dishes in the sink unwashed because it's ‘only one mug’. Or they could use the coffee machine without wiping away the spills that could attract ants. Or have aesthetics that are so different from the ones you like. Maybe they prefer a cupboard with its insides all showing, no doors. Or like to collect designer shoes that cost more than the things you deemed more necessary than that of shoes. Or they might leave their shoes unarranged at the front step and it might drive you crazy how they continuously do this even after countless times, reminded not to.

Or how he is so thoughtful enough to send you the KitKat premium donuts you mentioned just hours ago. Or how he carefully ensured that extra tofu is added in the kimchi jjigae because he knows you love them. Or how he has those printers set up so neatly without you worrying how messy it looks. He had the motion-detecting LED light installed on the balcony so you don’t have to turn on the lights when you want to walk outside. Or how he throws everything away when you say you need to talk. Sure he might fall asleep halfway. Sure he flips the doormats when he leaves the baths. Sure he left his one mug in the sink and went to bed without washing it.

But he also waits 20 minutes for you to get ready because you lost track of time, reading your reports and spotting the error in your datas. And he also smiles when you climbed into the car, with a heaving chest and sparred breaths. And he orders your favourites quite fluently, down to the preferences and drinks. And you might love the way he looks when he is literally just existing. There was no one else that looked so mesmerizing the way he does when he drives. Or when he eats, or when he was thinking, and listening.

At the end of the day, it wasn’t the flipping doormats or the one mug in the sink that became the issue. It was who would still want to hold you even after all these years, in complete darkness and in the brightest day. It was who would still feel you were worth their time, despite having only 24 hours in a day. It is the person you fell asleep thinking of, and woke up looking at.

.

.

.

.

You keep me strong when I can't carry on

When you lose your feet, fall down to your knees and your heart's about to break I will be your saving grace When your eyes can't see, take my eyes from me When you're lost and losing faith I will be your saving grace

Be my, be my, be my saving grace Won't you be my, be my, be my saving grace

.

.

.

copyright © 2020 namjoonchronicles do not repost, and thank you for reading 

[otherworldseekers]

FFXIV Write Day 2: Aberrant

Featuring ARR Nero just before Titan. 

500 words

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nero tol Scaeva paused with a frown and went back once again to the beginning of his calculations. There must be a mistake somewhere. The alternative was… unsettling. 

Leaning back in his chair, Nero rubbed his tired eyes. Perhaps he needed to take a break. He’d been at this for hours and the numbers were starting to swim in his vision. He stood and stretched, listened to various stiff joints crack. Coffee. That’s what he needed, he thought, as he pushed away from the worktable and made his way to the kettle. Sub-standard coffee, to be sure, but a stimulant nonetheless. 

There was a busy day ahead of him and he had not exactly meant to pull an all-nighter, but it was becoming more and more of a habit of late. He was vaguely aware, as his thoughts lingering on the disturbing implications of the night’s labour, that the time consuming work on the Ultima Weapon was not the only thing keeping him awake at night. 

Today’s task would add clarity to the question that plagued him. Was the adventurer Severia Zetsuen a danger to the Ultima Project? 

An alarm began to ring, alerting Nero that it was nearly time to depart for La Noscea. With a groan he began to assemble the pieces of his armor that he had discarded the evening before. Were Livia to see the careless way they were scattered around the lab no doubt she would report him for negligence. Ah, Livia. Always on the lookout for ways to gain the leverage to usurp his position. And still in denial that she simply was not qualified. 

He scowled as he recalled her last visit to the research level, the way she had sneered at what she called his “obsession” with the adventurer. It never paid to argue with Livia and as usual he had patiently waited until she had lost steam. She had departed with the ominous claim that she would have to take matters into her own hands. Nero had shrugged and given her his blessing to do as she saw fit if she would refrain from wasting his time again. He wondered vaguely if he would have cause later to regret that, but at the time he had simply wanted her gone. 

Numbers never lied. And these numbers… No matter how many times he reexamined, rethought and recalculated the evidence he reached the same answer. The adventurer was an aberration. She should not have possessed the strength to defeat even a primal as ultimately disappointing as Ifrit. She should, frankly, have been burned from the inside out like all the others who came before the Amalj’aa god. That she had not… that she had slain the monster instead… boded ill.

The familiar bulky silhouette of Rhitahtyn sas Arvina darkened the doorway. “My lord, we are ready to proceed.”

“Very well,” Nero said, downing the dregs of the coffee and securing his bulky helmet in place. “Let us observe this so-called Lord of Crags.”

[memorylang]

12 Months’ Pandemic Chronicled | #51 | March 2021

Happy Palm Sunday yesterday, and Happy Passover from the night before! Right under two weeks ago, March 16, 2O2I, marked the one-year anniversary to the close of my first Peace Corps Mongolia service. While I’ve continued to serve virtually, I’ve done so informally as a Returned Peace Corps Volunteer. Having lived these past 12 months back in the States, today’s tales chronicle that year. 

Also commemorating the one-year anniversary, I’ve uploaded dozens of photos from my first nine months serving Mongolia. You can find those on my Instagram and Facebook, from February and March. I begin today’s stories with those. From there, I chronicle my journey across the year. 

Evacuating Mongolia (February 2O2O)

February’s final week, on Ash Wednesday 2O2O, I was in Mongolia celebrating the third day of Tsagaan Sar, its Lunar New Year. Returning to my apartment from my last supper, I read an email from Peace Corps Mongolia that we were evacuating. I pulled an all-nighter packing my apartment. Shortly after sunrise, I visited a Peace Corps neighbor’s apartment to pack theirs. Then in my final two days, I said hasty goodbyes to community members, exchanging parting gifts. 

Sunday morning, which began Peace Corps Week and March 2O2O, I and fellow Volunteers loaded into Peace Corps vehicles and rode in our caravan till evening. Then the snowstorm caused us to need to stay overnight in a hotel coincidentally located in a city that my cohort would frequent during our summer 2OI9 for training. My evacuation group reached Mongolia’s capital Monday afternoon, with briefings from staff throughout Tuesday. Mongolia had already begun to enforce mask-wearing and physical-distancing, so we couldn’t do much with our final hours in Mongolia. Indeed, since mid-January, many public places had already closed due to quarantine. 

Wednesday night, the week after my peers and I had received notice of our evacuation and now mere hours before my group would depart the country, we awaited the arrival of fellow Peace Corps peers to the capital. For, Peace Corps staff staggered our arrivals into and departures from the capital to account for both the time drivers would need to assemble us from across the nation and the limited flight options still going out of the country. Those of us who remained awake through our final night enjoyed getting to see and embrace peers for our final moments together. 

Over the course of Thursday, March 5, my group flew first from Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia, through Moscow, Russia, to Berlin, Germany. Many of our itineraries diverged. From Germany, I and a few flew to Amsterdam, the Netherlands. From the Netherlands, I and a couple others flew to New York, New York. I slept four and a half hours’ in a hotel. Then I flew alone Friday from New York to Las Vegas, Nevada. I returned to my home of junior high and high school in North Las Vegas. 

American Twilight Zone (March 2O2O)

My first few weeks in the States felt weird, not just because of reverse culture shock. Back in Mongolia, fellow Peace Corps Volunteers, particularly Health Volunteers, had followed American media and read that our presidential administration had been downplaying the COVID-19 pandemic. Problematically, too, when leaders acknowledged it, some labeled it the “China virus” and accused Asians of spreading it. These set the tone. 

When I arrived in New York, I felt perturbed by the lack of mask-wearing and physical distancing. The morning when I’d fly out, I felt annoyed when the worker who checked me into my flight joked that I might have the virus since I’d flown in from Mongolia. Mongolia had no COVID cases—and wouldn’t have its first community transmission till November 11, 2O2O. Friends, too, when I said that I’d come back, distrusted that I couldn’t have the virus. So, although Peace Corps peers and I had already been quarantining nearly a month and a half before returning to the States—and very much craved to reconnect with folks—we found ourselves again isolated. 

Then Vegas felt weird. Nevada had reported its first COVID case the day before I returned, yet Mongolia hadn’t any. Yet Mongolia had shut down, and Nevada hadn’t. Society moved as though little was happening. My brothers still had school and were gone most of most days. Dad worked weekdays out-of-town. Thus, while I lived again in the States, even inside my family’s home, I was the only one around. I felt lonelier than how’d I’d felt before leaving my life abroad. 

The Filipina family of my father’s fiancée was perhaps the most understanding of my circumstances. The oldest daughter was celebrating her birthday that first Sunday, March 8, since my return to the States. So, I got to join them in enjoying the occasion. As I’d come to learn, Mongolia and the Philippines had more cultural similarities than I’d expected. I’d also feel dismayed to learn that people weren’t treating the youngest daughter kindly in her food service role, for some customers believed that her being Asian meant that she had the Coronavirus. 

Resettling Into Lent (March 2O2O)

Most every morning, my first few days and weeks, tracks from Disney's “Frozen II” became my anthems. I’d seen the film that Friday, March 6, when I’d flown alone back to Vegas. I’d connected especially with “Show Yourself,” “Some Things Never Change” and “The Next Right Thing.” I started to learn the lyrics not only in English but also in Mandarin Chinese and Spanish. 

My local church was still open. Meanwhile, in Mongolia, our church had been closed for nearly months. So, I attended services daily. I overheard old parishioners wondering what all this pandemic talk was about. I visited Reconciliation and a Stations of the Cross service. I applied to sing in the choir with which my late mom sang. 

My second week in the States, church and schools closed. Meanwhile, Peace Corps announced its global evacuation. My peers and I weren’t to expect to return to Mongolia this summer and instead were to expect that fall would be the soonest. My youngest brother’s hs senior spring ended abruptly, so he stuck around at the house. Our oldest brother left to quarantine with his girlfriend and her sisters. 

I cleaned much in and around the house. My greatest achievement early in the pandemic was to lead a garage clean-up with all siblings when my sisters visited. The task enabled us to at last park a vehicle in it once more. My siblings and I donated, too, decades of belongings. 

Among the unearthing, I dove deep into family history. I wrote up my understanding of my father's and my late mother's ancestries, which were also mine. Months later, I'd join WikiTree, talk to distant relatives and migrate large swathes of history onto the platform. 

Easter in Action (April–May 2O2O)

Gloom seemed to enshroud the world by Easter. I saw from the telly the Vatican's Lenten services, witnessing Pope Francis’ words from his city to the world and for Holy Week. His Good Friday Way of the Cross felt especially moving, for prisoners had written beautiful reflections that made me realize how little of a prison our quarantine was. 

My younger sister in LA had also returned to visit Vegas. I resumed daily exercise routines, including trying to concurrently complete handheld video games and walk miles on the treadmill. This began my May push to make the most of my days back in America. I kicked up a daily Duolingo habit, rising through leagues, and talked regularly with Mongols during early mornings. Such helped my sanity, especially when state offices gave me a hard time trying to get the unemployment assistance to which lawmakers entitled evacuated Returned Peace Corps Volunteers.  

Around Memorial Day, an uncle and aunt visited from Kansas to celebrate my youngest brother’s high school graduation online. The relatives also took my siblings, a family friend and me on my first national parks trip in years. We saw Saguaro, Great Basin and Capitol Reef. During the trip I’d grown my Goodreads library and soon enough uncovered the Libby app. The journey led me too to begin a pensive look back on my life. 

Summer in Reno (June–July 2O2O)

Dad remarried on June 6, 2020. Shortly thereafter, I relocated to Reno to help Pa and Stepma (“Tita”) handle copious amounts of yard work. With more time to reflect, I took up the request of a homebound friend to pray rosaries daily over the phone with him. 

Another friend of mine was going through a dark patch too but had a love of films. So each morning I’d rise early to see one of his recommendations then discuss it while working the yard if I wasn’t praying a rosary. I fondly recall the conversations while trimming plants, as I wander the Reno backyard even now. 

Near the same time, the friend and another encouraged me to tell my stories. So I began to write a memoir, on which he’d give feedback. The other friend had me appear on his podcast. Both experiences made the summer feel very whole. In memory of my first summer in Mongolia 2OI9, I also wrote a more detailed series on those experiences. [Arrival (June 2OI9), Meeting Host Family (July 2OI9), Summer’s End (August 2OI9)]

I celebrated my 23rd birthday in Vegas with an overnight vigil, praying 23 rosaries alone and with Catholic friends from around the globe. I felt such joy to reconnect meaningfully with so many across languages and cultures. Languages became a growing theme for me. I’d also begun again playing Pokémon GO after having not played since 2OI6. 

That summer, I finished seeing “Star Wars: The Clone Wars” (Season 7) as well as relevant bits from “Star Wars: Rebels.” I kept up with the Japanese episodes of “Pokémon Journeys: The Series.” Those, I’ve watched with English subtitles to know what’s happening. I’d also begun to read chapters of the Bible daily, at that time checking in weekly with an ol' friend. I started with Acts then Proverbs, Ephesians then Psalms. Meanwhile came Hebrews and John. Then were Ruth and Matthew. Now I read 1 Kings and Mark. I’d grown to appreciate both the Hebrew and Christian Bibles with renewed interest. 

Autumn Languages (August–September 2O2O)

Much of that fall, I was back in Reno. Yet, my younger brother had also come to Reno for his undergraduate fall semester. The guest room where I’d stayed quickly became his room, which left me a tad displaced. Still, I stuck through. Mornings, I rose early to read through a Latin textbook before daily conversations with a close friend who’d majored in classics as an undergrad.

Meanwhile, I’d stepped up to arrange meetings with Congressional lawmakers on behalf of the National Peace Corps Association. I’d also taken on roles within my alma mater Honors College and within the Social Justice Task Force for the American Psychological Association’s Society for the Psychology of Religion and Spirituality. I kept people organized and took notes during meetings. Meanwhile, my siblings and I had been starting a scholarship foundation, so I’d taken point on negotiating a partnership with the Vegas-based Public Education Foundation. 

As a nice break, I joined friends I’d met in high school on their near-monthly trips to national and state parks. These sights included Lassen Volcanic, Burney Falls and Tahoe’s Emerald Bay. Realizing that I wouldn’t return to Mongolia that fall, I booked a Department of Motor Vehicles appointment to renew my learner’s permit—The earliest appointment would be in December. 

In entertainment news, I’d finished seeing “Queer Eye: We’re in Japan,” “Love on the Spectrum” and “Midnight Gospel.” I’d also started playing “Pokémon Masters EX” when I’d heard that it included characters from multiple generations. I enjoyed how the stories felt new yet nostalgic. 

National Park Winter (October, November, December 2O2O)

October was a great month for my spiritual life. I got to attend my youngest sister’s Confirmation. I enjoyed my first retreat in years. I also got to tape videos for my alma mater. 

Then I returned to Vegas some weeks to complete more yard work. I’d also relocated belongings in different rooms and was able to have my own bedroom back in Vegas. This gave me a decent space in which to work. From November, I’ve also been hosting weekly video calls to help Mongols from my community abroad continue to practice English. 

I’d also listened to Riordan audiobooks, “Blood of Olympus” and “Hidden Oracle,” and various authors’ financial literacy materials. By December, “Kafka on the Shore” was a real highlight. In Reno, I saw too “The Mandalorian” (Seasons 1–2), emphatically recommended by a friend with whom I’d hiked at Red Rock Canyon. My other friends and I reunited to try again at Crater Lake and succeeded. 

My siblings and I partnered with the Vegas-based Public Education Foundation to launch our family LinYL Foundation to honor our late mother with scholarships for students. Though my formal role’s within outreach, I’ve done a fair bit of organizational leadership given my undergrad experiences. I’ve also been helping another non-profit start-up. Through it, I’ve gotten to meet alumni of overseas programs. 

My family celebrated Thanksgiving and Christmas in Vegas with our stepsisters. I’d also celebrated American Independence Day with them. Christmas felt peculiar, as I’d returned from Mongolia to Vegas the Christmas before, too! 

Then my national parks friends and I hit a new record, seeing Walnut Canyon, Petrified Forest, Meteor Crater, Sedona’s Devil’s Bridge and the Grand Canyon. Having successfully renewed my learner’s permit, I scheduled my driving test for the earliest date—February. I returned to Reno and at New Year’s reunited with friends for whom I’d participated in their wedding the year before. 

Road to Rejuvenation (January–February 2O2I)

Following the U.S. elections came the presidential inauguration. I felt more at peace with the state of the nation after that. Though U.S. politics have absorbed media significantly throughout the pandemic, I felt relieved by the calls for unity and returns to political normalcy from Inauguration Day. 

Meanwhile, I sought to kick off 2O2I strong, with renewed optimism and control. I practiced driving almost daily. I’d seen “Daredevil” (Season 3) too and progressed in the Blue Lions story of my younger sister’s “Fire Emblem: Three Houses” copy. At February’s start, after years of challenges, I secured my driver’s license. 

Mid-February, my national parks friends and I saw Utah’s Mighty Five. Our trip spanned Canyonlands, Arches, Capitol Reef (different section), Escalante, Bryce Canyon and Zion. I got to help drive at the end from Vegas to Reno, a major milestone. 

Thanks to Discord, I attended a virtual alumni reunion of my high school alma mater. I experienced our school's recreation in “Minecraft: Java Edition,” wandering into the classroom where I used to play “Minecraft” as a freshman. In “RuneScape,” after 12 years on-off, I’d achieved level 99 in all but the newest skill. I'd even gotten the characters I wanted in “Pokémon Masters EX” and nearly finished my Kanto Pokédex in “Pokémon GO.” (I've never before completed a Pokédex.) 

I finished February recording music for my undergrad parish’s online edition to our annual performance for “Living Stations of the Cross.” I got to lector at and attend a friend’s baptism. I’d also soaked up my youngest sister’s boyfriend’s Disney+ again and saw “WandaVision” entirely. Its takes on grief and joy astounded. 

Social Justice (March 2O2I)

These bring me to where and how I am today. I write from Reno, Nev., where snow had fallen and the weather grown warmer. Spring is here. 

The announcement of increasing vaccines gave me lots of hope. Since I've lost so many people this past year to COVID-19 and other conditions I'm grateful that we may near the end. An email from and a check-in call with Peace Corps confirmed that summer would be the soonest I’m going back abroad. Still, I’ve kept in touch with my people in Mongolia. 

My older brother and his girlfriend moved into the Vegas house, so I haven’t felt as obligated to be there. Thus, I’ve focused more time on the church in Reno. 

A great fount of a spiritual joy for me has been getting to help lector for my college parish’s weekly Proclamations of the Word. I received particular acclaim for my reading from 2 Chronicles, for Lent’s Fourth Sunday, which delighted me. At the time I’d been reading 1 Kings, so I’d enjoyed recognizing parallels. In some ways the exercises are like a miniature college course. Beyond regular Sundays and Holy Week, I’d also lectored for such feast days as St. Joseph’s Day (March 19) and the Annunciation (March 25). 

My siblings’ and my family foundation chose our first year of recipients. It’s been an exciting process, reading and witnessing our inspiring candidates. I hope that I'll get to meet these students someday, but ah, the pandemic. 

I’ve gotten back into “Frozen II,” thanks to its authentic behind-the-scenes docuseries. I've also passed the one-year anniversary of my first seeing the film. Each morning I’ve sought to see something on Disney's platform—real' nice. 

Our psychological division’s presidential task force for Social Justice released our statement about the Capitol riots, which received strong critics but stronger supporters. Then came the Atlanta situation. 

In my U.S. Week 5I (Feb. 19–25), during a walk past the nearby elementary school, I’d had an unpleasant personal experience that led me to feel very grateful when the #StopAsianHate campaign began. I’ll likely share more later, but today’s blog story is about done. 

Hope and Easter 2O2I (April 2O2I)

At the last Adoration activity before Easter, our parish offered Reconciliation, so I returned again. Absolution offers such sweet cleansing for my mind and soul. Now Holy Week begins. I'm still lectoring, too! 

This summer, I hope to write more on my memoir. I’m still revising my research. I'm set to finish all five tiers of Duolingo Latin tomorrow. Then I'll get back to my textbook. 

I still delight in chatting with ol’ friends. My national parks homies and I will hit Redwood next weekend. Then my parish has Spring Retreat. I look forward to getting vaccinated in coming months then hugging folks forevermore. 

You can read more from me here at DanielLang.me :)

[whispersafterdusk]

Lost in Time - ch 19

"I'm sorry - I'm not usually forgetful, I'm just dumb today."

About halfway through his patrol Asher had the realization that Eli's story comment DID make sense -- she'd explained her religious beliefs at the memorial service weeks ago, which seemed to revolve around the idea of everyone being born with a story to tell.  He was there, he'd heard it, and he was kicking himself for forgetting it.

Across the table Eli shrugged.  "We're both running on zero sleep and had more important things to focus on, it's not a big deal.  I can still explain it all again or more in-depth if you're curious."

The Round Table was mostly empty; they were a bit early for the lunch rush.  A headache was starting behind Asher's left eye so he was glad it was quiet in here.   "Only if you feel up to it. I'm still really sorry."

"I don't mind.  So, like I mentioned before-"

She abruptly stopped and Asher could see her eyes flick over his shoulder toward the door so he shifted enough to peer behind him.  Harrison had just come in and he had a girl following along behind him; Asher had seen her around town a lot lately. ((Continued below cut))

Eli watched the two of them for a moment then turned her attention back to him.  "Well, that's a good reminder that I need to stop by the clinic for another bottle of aspirin."

"Man, I could use one of those at the moment," Asher sighed.  "I've stayed awake way longer than this but it doesn't mean it's easy on the body."

She nodded, then abruptly stood.  "Actually, be right back."

As she headed over to where Harrison and the girl were seating themselves at a booth Asher shifted again to give himself a full view of the room; it wasn't that he expected their suspect to waltz in through the door but knowing there was someone out there lurking with bad intentions had his paranoia cranked to the max, and no matter how farfetched a scenario may seem he felt he shouldn't ignore anything his brain spat out at him.  

So he watched as Eli chatted with the two at the table briefly then came back and flopped back down in her seat; right as she returned Sonia came to the table with their food and drinks.

"What was that about?" he asked as he grabbed his fork and speared a chunk of tofu off his plate.

"Was asking Harrison to tell Dr. Xu that I won't be coming to my usual session tonight, in case I don't actually make it to the clinic today to let him know myself."

"Ah."  He stuffed the tofu in his mouth, chewed, and swallowed.  "-I hope you aren't planning on pulling another all-nighter."

She shook her head and downed half the lemonade in her glass in four huge gulps.  "-I don't PLAN on it just yet but I want my schedule open in case I have to.  Once I'm off the clock for today I'm going to help Selene get whatever transmitters she has the parts for assembled and ready to go."

"Need some help?"

Again she shook her head.   "It'd take me longer to teach you how to put it together than it would for me to do it myself.  I appreciate the offer though."

"If you...you know, need anything.  At all.  You can ask me, you know?"

She drained her glass and set it aside before finally starting in on her food.  "I know."

They both ate quickly (a little TOO quickly in Asher's case - now he had a slightly queasy stomach AND the start of a headache) and paid their respective bills before heading toward the Corps building.  As they passed the graveyard Asher could see one of the construction folks - it was the tall blonde man (that was who had designed that stone in the first place, he thought) - carefully examining the burnt surface of the tombstone.  Since it was just polished rock Asher was certain the man could grind off and re-polish it without too much trouble; he was still mad that someone had defaced the grave but in a way thankful that it would be easy to restore.  And, should the vandal decide to-

"--you know, I think we ought to post a person here for a few nights," he said as he slowed to a stop and then turned to backtrack to the graveyard's gates.

"You think whoever did it will come back that quickly?"

He nodded.  "Darren's stone and the others for your squad mates all look sort of similar - if whoever this is is purposely singling you out they might deface the rest of these and might be brave or stupid enough to come back soon."

"I'd think they'd expect us to be keeping a close eye on the place."

"They might, they might not, they might not even care. But." Asher turned to point down the hill the way they'd come and then used his finger in the air to trace along the line of a stone archway they'd walked under.  It was dotted with windows and had an old, iron-banded wooden door that was heavily padlocked; the inside area was used to store the furniture needed for festivals (he'd helped put the benches and chairs used at the memorial services away inside there).  The windows were tiny and probably a little dusty but if someone took up a position at that middle window at the top of the arch they could probably see the entire cemetery from there, and it would be hard to spot them in the dark at that height from the ground.  "If we hide someone up there, they wouldn't even know we're here."

Eli followed his hand and eyed the archway, then shrugged.  "Right, so, another all-nighter then."

"You DID say you were keeping your schedule open."

"Let's check in with Arlo and see what's what before we pencil a stakeout onto the agenda."

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

Her task today had sounded easy on the surface: cut open the flaps of seed sacks, arrange them in a wagon.  They were heavy but not so much that she couldn't carry them, but the knife she'd been given to cut the sacks open seemed little better than a butter knife -- it was good enough to cut the thread sewing the sacks shut but not sharp enough to cut into the burlap itself, which was proving to be a problem because this last sack was sewn shut too tightly for her to get the knife in under the flap, and she couldn't saw a hole in the burlap either.  She could sort of get the tip of the knife wedged in under each individual stitch and snip it loose that way but that meant cutting almost every stitch, by itself, one by one.

As she picked and struggled with the thread the barn door creaked behind her and someone's shadow fell over the floor; it was too beefy to be Sophie or Emily, and not wide enough to be McDonald.  

"I don't have time to play tag right now," she called out without turning around.

"I prefer checkers."

That was one of the answers she'd been expecting so she turned around to face the man that had walked into the barn.  He was...very muscular.   Maybe all muscle, and the only hair on his head was a black mustache that was the same width as his lips.  Lily hadn't seen him before but he definitely had to have been recruited solely for strength.

"I hope you're good at hide and seek."  A phrase meant to ask 'were you noticed or followed?'

The man shook his head, pulled a folded piece of paper out of one of the multiple pockets on his shirt and dropped it onto the floor, then disappeared out of the barn as quickly as he'd appeared.

Lily grunted and with a yank that hurt her arms all the way up to her shoulder blades finally tore the loose stitches apart and the top of the seed bag was finally open; after a moment to let the tingling in her fingers fade she hauled the bag over into the wagon with the rest of them before she retrieved the paper and looked it over.

>FR, KA, WIN - STBY >PL, des pln. PK SEC. > 385. > Markest > 3t. Har wh ws arc n

Ah, good - everything was falling into place.  There were three more operatives on standby, Harrison's family had been secured, and their escape pilots would be hiding out somewhere to the east waiting for their signal to move in and get them out.

She did have an immediate surge of annoyance though at the identity of their escape pilot: 385.  Sky Sharks.  Lily hated those damn pirates... They were paid an obscene amount of money to remain loyal to Duvos, and she knew without a doubt that if someone with deeper pockets came along then the Sharks would switch sides without even blinking.  WHY did Duvos insist on relying on them?  It was baffling, and all she could console herself with was it HAD to be more than money...it wouldn't make sense otherwise to have such a glaring weakness in their field operations.

That last line of the message indicated that a meeting was set up for tonight at the stone arch that was to the west of the harbor; this was good, as they all needed to meet face to face to identify one another, discuss any last-minute questions regarding their responsibilities and expectations, AND she needed to find out which of them had defaced the grave -- rumors had raced through town and she'd already spotted someone examining it to determine how to repair it.  If it hadn't been one of the agents sent to help then it was one hell of a coincidence...and if it HAD been one of them then she was curious about how they'd learned about Summers and how much they'd learned, and what exactly they intended to do with that knowledge.  Prior to finding those counseling records Lily hadn't really heard anything about the woman that would've pointed her out as something special -- Portians were not immune to gossip but they did seem polite enough to not include a ton of personal details and at the time none of it had seemed to be important enough to look into. Lily knew that if she'd known about Summers prior to her meeting with Xan then it was likely they'd have abandoned the plan to steal the AI and would instead be more concerned with snatching the woman.  

Was that what they were hoping to accomplish? Lily hadn't received ANY orders from Xan regarding a change in their target, and it would be a lot more finicky to try and smuggle a woman out versus mechanical parts.  It was an absolute certainty that if Xan had changed his mind on their target then she, as head of this operation, would have heard about it first... Maybe it WAS a coincidence, as impossible as it seemed.  Or maybe whoever did it thought they were...helping?  Spread the security out thin?  That was more plausible than coincidence but ran a high risk of jeopardizing the mission instead since Lily already knew Portia had called on the help of the Flying Pigs and it wouldn't be hard for them to request a few more.

No... Whatever the reasoning, it had to stop. If they got a chance to grab the woman on their way out then fine, whatever.  But she wasn't about to let this mission get sidetracked away from their ordered target -- not unless Xan himself sent her word to change the plan where she had that proof in her hand or heard it from Xan directly.

Outside the barn she heard hoof beats; quickly she stuffed the paper deep into her pocket and pretended to be fussing over the seed bags in the back of the rickety wagon.  A few moments later and both barn doors opened wide as Sophie's granddaughter came into view leading a rather large horse by a rope - it wasn't proper reins but just a simple braided leather cord hooked to one of the rings on the halter and she had the loose end wrapped around her wrist with plenty of slack in the lead for the horse to look about.

"Hey there, Lily.  I'm sorry - Granny didn't tell me you were out here doing this or else I would've come to help you."

Lily scoffed and leaned against the wagon's side.  "Oh pfft, no worries!  It was a little heavy but not that bad!  Sort of.  Do you have anything to sharpen knives here?  The one Sophie lent me turned out to be dull."

Emily led the horse in further and walked it around the wagon so it's back end was close to the wagon's front; Lily came over and handed her the knife in its little leather sheath, and Emily in turn handed her the lead so she could move between the shelves and the wagon to get a few wooden shafts and a yoke into place.  Afterward she maneuvered the horse into place and hooked everything up, then just as quickly freed the animal.

"...why'd you go through all that effort?" Lily asked as Emily started to lead the horse back towards the doors.

"Usually we use a mare named Sunny to pull the wagon but she's getting on in years.  We're switching over to this fine fellow here-" Emily patted the horse's neck with a giggle "-and he's a bit bigger than Sunny.  I wanted to make sure the yoke would still fit.  Seems there's not as big a difference in size in the places where it matters so it shouldn't rub or be uncomfortable, and it also means I don't have to try and do all the measuring in the morning when there's not a lot of light either and too little time to get another yoke down from the attic."

"Aha.  That makes sense.  ...so we're starting tomorrow morning then?"

Once Emily had the horse outside the barn, but was still framed in the doorway, she slipped the halter off and the horse ambled away out of Lily's line of sight.  "Yep!  Right at sunrise, and we should be done by lunchtime."

Ugh.  A late night meeting and now work at an unreasonable hour.  "Ok!" Lily replied, struggling to keep her usual perky cheerfulness in the tone.  "I'll see you at dawn then - hopefully I don't sleep in on accident."

"It's ok if you do but that'll just mean it'll take longer to finish."

Emily waited for Lily to leave the barn then closed the doors and slid the locking bar into place; Lily offered the woman a smile and a wave as she turned to head back into Portia but inwardly she was groaning in frustration.  If she set an alarm and went to bed now she'd get at least a little bit of sleep before the meeting.  She WAS supposed to have dinner with Harrison tonight but the naive little fool could wait -- more important things needed to come first.

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

The signal transmitter buzzed softly.  It was like having a small insect flitting around his head.

But with it sitting in the storage area with him, hooked up to a temporary power source, it covered the immediate area and would let Arlo communicate with Sam, Remington, and Mali who were all hidden nearby in the commerce guild, the Happy Apartments, and the old, closed cafe down the hill.

So far there'd been no signs of life outside; Asher had come up with this idea and he and Eli both expressed doubt that they would see anyone tonight.  Still, it was a good idea made even better by Selene suggesting they take one of the transmitters with them to temporarily let them coordinate through the Hi-Defs -- Eli and the builder had then both scrambled to get one assembled and re-wired for a power stone bracket, and they'd disguised it inside a crate that they carried into the storage area.  All that was left to do then was wait until nightfall, carefully slip inside the storage area (Arlo was certain he hadn't been seen by anyone who was, themselves, visible at the time) and then plug in the transmitter's cord to the bracket and flip it on.

The moon was bright (not full, sadly) but it was intermittently cloudy; when there wasn't cloud cover Arlo was able to see clearly through the small, smudged clean spots he'd wiped in every window in the storage area.  He did have to be careful to toss his jacket over himself each time he accessed his Hi-Def (the light from the screen would stand out in the darkness, after all) but other than that he was free to silently walk from window to window to keep an eye on the graveyard as well as the surrounding areas that he could see, and he'd been pacing in this manner for the last four hours with nothing to show for it.

'It might not be tonight,' he kept telling himself.  It might not be tonight, or tomorrow night, or even any time soon.  

But, not that long ago he and Remington had gotten the chosen security door ready for transport.  Mint estimated they could have it in place and installed within a week; with the door in place they could stop worrying about someone getting into the facility, and once they reached that point they'd be free to focus the entirety of their attention on catching their spy and vandal.  With all of that in mind the fact that they wouldn't likely catch anyone tonight was easier to swallow.

"Anyone seen anything yet?"

Remington's voice came through the Hi-Def - Arlo had the volume set to just barely above a whisper, to him.

"Not ye- Wait."

Mali's response cut off and Arlo tensed; she was stationed at the apartments -- she usually stayed there when she was in Portia so she'd appointed herself to that position because it wouldn't seem strange if she was spotted at an odd hour inside the building (though the point was, of course, for her NOT to be spotted at all). Arlo gave it several breaths, then several breaths more; the silence seemed to press in so he bent down, pulled his jacket over his head and arm, and prodded his Hi-Def awake.  "Mali?  Is everything all right?"

"I'm fine. But I just spotted our first concrete lead."

"What?  Did you see someone?"

"Not exactly. But either our guest is staying here, was visiting friends here, or Happy Apartments has a ghost problem."

Arlo's eyes narrowed -- their target was INSIDE the apartments?  How?  For how long had they been there?  "So you saw our spy."

"I heard a door open and close upstairs, and shortly thereafter the front door opened and closed on its own.  I didn't see anyone, unfortunately -- the lights in the lobby here are heavily dimmed after ten o'clock.   Whoever this was knows where to walk to avoid casting even a hint of a shadow in this light so I didn't see them pass me."

"And if you'd turned the lights on it would've been a dead giveaway." Arlo shuffled awkwardly in the dark, with his jacket still pulled over him, toward the furthest window that looked toward Peach Plaza.  As expected he didn't see anyone, or anything, with the moon behind the clouds again.  

"Should we try and pursue?  Pick up their trail?" Remington asked.

"No," both Arlo and Mali said at the same time.  Arlo waited a moment, then continued.  "We already know this person will be nearly impossible to spot in the dark, even with the moon out, and we've got clouds in the sky tonight that'll make it worse. We have a starting point.  In the morning we'll see who is staying at the apartments and go from there."

"I'll stay here and see if whoever that was returns," Mali said after a moment.  "If they do, and I can see what room they go into, we'll at least know if this person has been staying here or if someone they're working with is."

"Don't try to apprehend them without help," Arlo warned.  "We still don't know if the spy and the vandal are the same person and if they aren't we don't know which one of them is armed or how many people we may be dealing with here."

"I don't intend to because I think we stand to learn more if we wait. It might be glaringly obvious who our culprit is once we examine the occupancy, or it might not be.  Either way, we make our list of suspects and monitor them.   We'll catch our spy, our vandal, both, or more."

Arlo nodded.  "As good a plan as any.  I'm going quiet again - everyone keep their eyes peeled."

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

It was a very long walk from the apartments out to the arch.  The suit was getting a bit warm by the time she spotted the tiniest hint of a flame on the beach ahead of her; as she drew closer to the flame she could make out the silhouette of the man holding it.

He was tall and almost unnaturally thin; he had a lighter in hand and the tiny flame's light caused the surprising number of knives sheathed across his chest, hips, and thighs to glint softly in the dark.  Next to him was a skinny (but not nearly as skinny as he was) woman who had long red hair worn in a pair of braids that fell forward over her shoulders.  The muscular man who had delivered the message was there standing at the back of the group next to Evangeline and Marcus -- Evangeline was a large woman, close to the size of Marcus and the two skinny folk put together, with platinum blonde hair, and Marcus was a dark-haired man who was otherwise unremarkable in the scant glow of the lighter.

They were looking her way; the suit's chameleon abilities were still engaged but it couldn't prevent her from leaving footprints in the sand as she approached.

"Were you followed?" the muscular man asked when she came close.

"No.  The entire town is asleep.  They don't post night guards in Portia; only out at the facility itself.  That might change when construction begins." She came to a stop and turned off the suit; immediately the heat she could feel began to ease.  "Were any of YOU followed?"

They all shook their heads; it was good to see they had all  been smart about this.

"Where do we stand?" Marcus asked.

Lily unfastened the clips at her neckline and gently slid the extra ventilation slits open on the suit's helmet - the wisps of cool air that immediately filtered in were a blessing.  "Construction has been delayed - I'm not sure why.  We should consider ourselves on standby and be ready to move at a moment's notice."  Before any of them had a chance to speak further she huffed out a sigh.  "Who here defaced the grave?" The muscular man crossed his arms and lifted a single finger; she turned to glare at him.  "Stop it.  I won't have you jeopardizing this."

The man snorted loudly.  "Tell that to Xan.  He's disappointed in you - how the heck did you miss something so--"

Lily jabbed a finger toward him.  "-shut up.  Stop it.  Shut up.  At the time I spoke to Xan it wasn't known what else was here. How did he hear about Summers?"

"You really think there wouldn't be rumors like wildfire in the scholar circles?  They can't shut up about the fact we have a real, live Dubeian in our midst.  Xan wants her and to hell with the AI."

Lily narrowed her eyes.  "I don't believe you.  Xan wouldn't so drastically change things without communicating with ME first."

The man rolled his eyes.  "Shut your damn mouth, brat - you aren't special.  I got my orders from Xan's mouth and I will not and DO NOT have to listen to your whining."

Lily stalked forward until she was nearly nose to nose with the man (or as close as she could get - his forearms were thick and he was taller than she was too).  "I'M in charge until told otherwise.  If there's been a change in the plans then I need to hear from Xan directly.  If you don't like that then you're on your own, and no one here should feel like they need to stick their necks out for you."

As she spoke to turned to look at the others one by one; the red head's expression was stony so Lily wasn't sure which side she was taking on this particular argument, Evangeline seemed just as annoyed with the muscled man as Lily felt, and she couldn't get a read on Marcus or knife-man's mood -- they both had really good poker faces.

"And," she went on into the pause.  "Should you think to sell US out if you get caught...  I don't think I need to remind you what Duvos does to traitors.  I might not be able to save any of you if someone squeals but you can bet I WILL get myself out and back to base to let everyone know who botched this and got us - got YOU - caught. And whoever did will pay for it, even if you get sent to prison.  You know there's no hiding if Duvos decides they really want you gone."

An uneasy silence followed; the man covered in knives flicked the lighter closed abruptly but otherwise no one even moved.

After several tense minutes Evangeline rolled her neck; the number of pops that came from the motion prickled Lily's skin.  "All right, I says we vote.  Original plan, or switch to the new one?  Original?" Lily, Evangeline, Marcus, and the red-haired woman raised their hands.   Evangeline briefly glanced around and then nodded.  "Good enough for me.  Xan wants a change he'll have to tell us the usual way."

The muscled man opened his mouth and the man with the knives held up a hand.  "Enough.  I'M willing to trust you, because you're saying it's Xan, but they do got a point: Xan always gets word to his men through specific channels, come hell or high water.  I don't see why he'd stop doing that in this case.  If we're wrong then we're wrong but at least we got a damn AI out of it.  And it's not like the woman is like to go anywhere anytime soon."

"Thank you...?" Lily said, gesturing for the man to introduce himself.

"Windsor," came the answer.  "Franklin.  Kara."  He gestured to the muscled man and the red head in turn.  "Ain't worked with Xan before now but man's got a reputation for doing it by the book and getting shit done.  I don't like the idea of getting on his bad side by not carrying out his orders but without those orders in my hot little hand or having come directly from his face to my ears I'm not sure I want to make him mad by NOT doing what I'd been told the first time 'round."

Lily nodded to him.  "I appreciate your good sense."  She looked to Kara; her expression was just as crabby as it had been when Lily last eyed her.   Whatever the woman's exact thoughts were they were hidden behind a deep frown but at the very least she wasn't objecting to Lily's orders to stay the course.

"...all right.  Now.  Just so we're all CLEAR-" Lily went on, stressing the last word and all but spitting it at Franklin, "-our next step is simply waiting for construction to begin.   When they break ground we'll meet up again four nights later to plan out the doctor switch -- it's not going to be immediate.  Anyone in regular close contact with the doctor is likely to notice even a slight change in behavior, and there's no way Harrison is going to know every little detail about the doctor's life if he gets pressed.  When the servers and the AI are set to be moved over we'll make our move so there's only a window of a few days where the idiot has to keep up the act.  When we leave, we leave him behind, we get home, Xan lets his family loose if he did everything we told him to.  A good boy gets rewarded."

"Simple 'nuff," Windsor said.  "I like a good, clean getaway."

"Any questions?  Any issues with your cover stories we need to hammer out right now?"

Windsor shook his head.  "Just a traveling performer here, miss.  Staying over in South Block since I was led to believe the growth there would bring new audiences - since it ain't, I'm walking between there and Portia to earn enough to go home."

Lily flashed him a thumb's up and looked to Kara; finally the woman's stony expression broke into something that MIGHT have passed for a smile, if one was holding in a fart.

"Just a ruins delver," was her simple explanation.  She had a voice like cracked glass so Lily was glad she wasn't a wordy person.

After a very lengthy pause Franklin grunted.  "Fishing."

Lily sighed.  "Fishing?  That's it?"

"That's it.  I'm here to fish."

She was all but certain now that if there was a weak link in the group, it was going to be this idiot.  She looked to Marcus and Evangeline.

Marcus shrugged.  "Handy man looking for work."

"Mining - already met Dana and got a position," Evangeline said.  "Ought to be able to give a good report about what natural stuff is down there.   Never know - someone might be interested."

At that Lily reached up to slide the ventilation slits shut again, then turned the suit back on.  "Stick to your stories, stay out of trouble, and keep an eye on the clinic.  We'll meet here, same time, four days after construction starts.  Remember that."

She spun on her heel and left -- they could all figure out their own ways back to wherever they were staying and she had a long walk ahead of her to get back to her room-

...the sky was already beginning to lighten.  She didn't think the meeting had taken that long but that time spent coupled with the long walk back to town...damn it. It took about two hours to properly clean and dry the suit out after she'd worn it awhile, and with how she was currently sweating it might take even longer; if she didn't show up to the farm on time people might go looking for her, and she couldn't just leave the job half-finished or leave the suit hanging in her room and risk someone finding it.  She also didn't trust anyone she was working with to properly care for or hide it.

Where could she stash it...

There was that hot springs area that was near enough to the farm...she knew from poking around that no one seemed to use the attic in that tiny dock house.  That would have to work for now - it would take even longer to clean it later but she needed to lay low anyway, and it was less likely someone would try snooping in her room if they knew she was in it.

When she got to the dock house she picked the lock to the building and climbed to the attic; thankfully she managed to find a loose floorboard that she pried up and stuck the suit under it before putting the board back -- while she really doubted anyone would suddenly decide to come up here at least now they wouldn't immediately see the suit if they did, and who would have any reason to go digging around in the rafters?  It was risky but less so than leaving it out in the open.

As she came upon the fields she could see Emily was already outside with the horse and wagon, and there were a few others that Lily didn't recognize that were standing with her; they weren't anyone she'd seen in town before so she imagined they, like her, were hired on hands to assist.  The farm girl was talking to the others but paused and gestured, with a smile, for Lily to come join them once she noticed her crossing the empty field.  

"-and David, you'll take the cornball seeds.  Lily, I'll have you helping Tracy and Bill with the wheat, if you don't mind."

"Sure!" Lily chirped in response, looking over to the two standing on the far end of the little line of farmhands -- Tracy was an average sized, average looking brunette who seemed like she was barely awake and Bill was a tall man in ratty clothing and straw hat.  "I'm Lily - I've never planted wheat before so is there anything special I should know?"

Tracy didn't make any effort to answer but Bill shook his head with a warm smile.  "Naw.  It's easy.  I'll show you."

"All right!  Let's get to planting everyone!" Emily called out then.  She led the wagon along the rows Lily had marked out and helped one of the other farmhands in setting down the sacks of seed next to their correct markers.

Bill handed Lily a little bag attached to a length of rope and showed her to how tie it to her hip so it stayed secure but also could be removed easily by tugging on a loop in a certain way; she then filled the little bag with wheat seeds and followed along with the man as he showed her what he called the easiest and most efficient want to get the seeds into the ground.  Once she'd had her crash course in wheat planting they separated and worked in a line with each of them taking the rows to their immediate left and right.

While she was rather tired she had to admit that this wasn't all that bad, and in just a handful of hours she could go get her suit and figure out a way to sneak it back into Happy Apartments, then take a shower and crawl into bed.  She might even grab something to eat at some point...or might not.  It would depend on how exhausted she was once this field was planted.

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

"Can I ask you something?"

"Is this related to how distracted you've been all afternoon?"

Arlo grimaced.  "...yeah.  It's..."

Their walk today (Eli never had them in one place for too long when she was teaching) had taken them along the river, passed the island that housed the Haunted Cave attraction, down to the ocean shore, and now they were retracing that path at a leisurely pace.  He'd thought he'd done a decent enough job to hide the fact that his mind was anywhere but in the current moment but...well, considering that Eli was trying to teach him to absorb his surroundings and pick out all the little details in an instant, it was little wonder she'd immediately clued in to even a tiny change in his behavior.

What was bothering him was a proverbial rabbit hole he'd accidentally fallen down earlier today when he was going over their known information and current plan.

They had fourteen suspects staying in the Happy Apartments.  That was a lot of people to keep an eye on, and they'd kept EVERYONE who wasn't a native Portian on that list -- since they couldn't rule out that someone had been hiding in the wilderness prior to renting a room they'd decided against eliminating anyone immediately based on date of arrival alone.   Mali was confident that they could quickly strike people off that list and pare it down to a more manageable one, and he shared that confidence, but it had got him thinking about the general situation.

Arlo had heard and read a lot about the war between the Alliance of Free Cities and Duvos, and had also heard a lot of stories from Remington regarding the recent action at Lucien's border.  Lucien had been nearly destroyed in the war and really, it hadn't known peace long enough to truly rebuild.  It almost felt like the peace accord that Duvos had signed was only a pretense - a stalling effort to let them bide their time, build back up, and try to forcibly expand their borders again later. Portia was far to the south of Duvos so there had never been much fear over being invaded or having their resources abruptly taken from them -- all things considered, Portia had probably never been high on their priority list as there were ruins and other natural resources much closer to the Empire's border; the sink hole opening up into the remarkably well preserved medical facility had undoubtedly pushed Portia square into Duvos's sights and they clearly, desperately, wanted what was within it, and history had already shown how they went about obtaining what they wanted.

It seemed odd to make the jump from a snooping spy to a sudden declaration of war but where else would their current behavior lead?  Things were getting tense in the north and just because they had no word of Duvos gearing up to march again didn't mean they hadn't found some way to keep it hidden.  And while he knew any sort of technology in Duvos's hands was bad news it was a chilling thought to consider what it would mean if they got their hands on Stewart -- they might not be able to replicate old medical technology immediately but the knowledge was invaluable and could, in the near future, drastically cut down on recovery time for Duvos's injured soldiers while the rest of the world would have to scramble to learn what they could from those medical texts they'd found just to keep up.

How to even put all of that into words though...

"...if another war breaks out, what do you think you'll do?"

For a time Eli didn't answer; ahead of them the bridge that led over to the Haunted Cave came into view, and near it was a bald, mustached man who was struggling with the reel on his fishing pole.

"Not sure," came her answer.  They walked on another few steps before she continued.   "Fight, probably. It might sound selfish but in a way I'm glad I'm not in charge of anything or anyone anymore."

He looked over to her; her head was down, her gaze fixed on the ground just ahead of them, so he couldn't get a clear look at her face.  "Why's that?  I would've thought it would be the opposite."

She let out a huff of a laugh. "Maybe, if we were three hundred years in the past.  This isn't my world anymore.  I have no business being in charge of people - how could I order them around when I know less about this world and how it all works than they do?  Like -- imagine if you were thrown into MY time period.  How do you think you'd feel?"

"Overwhelmed," Arlo answered, momentarily surprised at how quickly the word had spilled out.  "More than a little lost, as well.  I've not really been far from Portia so the thought of being in a city where a single building holds more people than I've ever seen in my life is...a little daunting."

She nodded, lifting her head a bit to flash him a smile.  "Now try to reverse that.  Everything I knew is gone, or doesn't work or work properly, or is left like that-" she pointed way off to the west where you could just barely make out the top of a ruined building on the horizon.  "If I had access to tools and tech from my time, we would have caught this spy in a matter of days.  But I don't.  And we haven't.   And I feel like I'm flailing around trying to hold on to anything I can to sort of ground myself but...it's hard, you know?  About all I'm good for is a warm body ready to throw myself on the metaphorical fire to keep it from burning others."

"Don't say that," he interrupted, shaking his head at her.  "You're much more than that - to me, and to everyone else."

"LOGICALLY I know that," she replied.  "Emotionally though... I have my good days and my bad ones; I'm just good at keeping the mask on and rolling with it."

"Well, whatever your brain wants to tell you, if it's negative it's wrong.  You're a good friend, you're intelligent, you're tougher than anyone I've ever met," Arlo went on.  "And if there's anything I can do to help, just ask."

She chuckled quietly and stuck her hands into her pockets.  "You and Asher both have said that.  It's appreciated."

He opened his mouth to keep going but paused, as he wasn't sure what to say next.  They were even closer to the bridge now and Arlo could see the rat's nest of a tangle of fishing line that was around the mustached man's reel ahead of them.  The man noticed them coming and offered a frustrated half wave, which Arlo acknowledged with a nod.

"-so, now that I've had my daily mini mental breakdown, why are you worried about war?" she asked, voice quiet.

"...the more I think about the spy, and what they're after, and where they came from, the more I feel like another war is on the horizon," he replied after a moment to sort his thoughts out.  "And thinking about that made me think about what I would do in that situation."

She nodded, then held up a hand before he could continue; lengthening her stride she adjusted her path to head toward the man with the tangled reel.  

"Everything all right there?"  They were still far enough away that she had to almost yell for the man to hear her -- at the very least, the man wasn't within range to hear them chitchatting.

"Yeah yeah," came the shouted response - the man's tone was clearly annoyed.  "Don't buy cheap reels."

She chuckled a bit; again she adjusted herself to go back to the path they had been walking along - they still had to pass by the man but there would be a healthy distance between them.

As they drew near and then finally passed the man Arlo could hear him swearing to himself as he yanked and tugged at the tangled fishing line...but he didn't really seem to be focusing on what he was doing.  It was slightly hard to tell out of the corner of the eye and with how quick they walked by him but Arlo swore the man was trying his damnedest to watch them while looking like he wasn't paying them any attention.  Arlo resisted the urge to look back, to check if the man was openly staring, and simply walked alongside Eli until the man was far behind them.

"You saw that, right?"

He nodded.  "He was watching us."

"Any idea who that was?"

"No, I've never seen him before."

Arlo made a mental note of what the man had looked like (heavily muscled, bald, mustached) and resolved to ask Gale and Antoine if the man was one of those staying at the Happy Apartments -- he was certainly striking enough to be easily remembered.

As Portia's gates loomed ahead of them he remembered they'd been mid-conversation about Duvos and a potential war...he almost felt like he needed, and should, pick up where they'd left off, as the whole thing bothered him a bit more than he'd initially realized, but there was also a part of him that didn't want to think about it at all.  It was that same part of him that hadn't wanted to consider what "shoot to kill" entailed either.

"Eli!"

Arlo looked up sharply at the shout; Toby was running toward them with Jack and the triplets huffing along trying to keep up with him.  Beside him Eli smiled and shook her head.

"There goes the afternoon I guess.  Unless you need me for something?"

He shook his head.  "Your patrol is done, our lesson is over with, and we already did our morning training.  So far as I'm concerned you're off the clock."  He paused, looking again to where the kid was rushing toward them.  "-unless you want me to invent a task so you can avoid being dragged into whatever Toby has planned."

"Nah, it's fine.  I can handle a gaggle of kids."

Toby would be right on them within a few seconds; in those last moments of peace Arlo stepped just ahead of Eli enough to stop her, fixing her with a look.  "Take tomorrow off.  I'll have Asher cover your patrols."

She frowned.  "Arlo-"

"No, I mean it.  If you're having a rough time I'd rather have you rested and ready for action.  Relax for a day - read a book, hike, visit with someone, just do something you like."

"I LIKE being active, and exactly how much relaxation do you think I'm going to get knowing-"

She cut off her words as Toby came to a stumbling halt in front of them, panting loudly.  "Eli...Eli!  Think you can...whew...think you can help me make a bow?"

"A bow?  What for?"

After a few breaths to collect himself Toby stood upright, beaming.  "I wanna learn how to shoot it!  And then I wanna learn how to hunt!  Mom told me about this stew thingy she liked that had fried sea urchin in it but you can't get near them without them shooting their needles at you - I want to surprise her with some meat but without getting turned into a pincushion!"

Eli blinked as all that came in a rush out of the boy's mouth; Arlo had to give the kid credit -- he was at least thinking ahead rather than rushing off for once.

"Well, seems you have a plan," she replied finally.  "But it's not going to be easy to just MAKE a bow - especially not one that'll take down a target like an urchin."

"But...can we try?"

Arlo smiled a bit at the boy's earnest tone, then wagged a finger at him to grab his attention.  "Just make sure you're not shooting it at anything just for fun," he warned once the boy was looking at him.  "Don't damage any buildings or trees, and DON'T shoot it at wildlife unless you're intending to eat it."    

Toby pumped a fist into the air a few times.  "I won't, I promise!"

Finally the four other children caught up and, after a moment to collectively catch their breaths, they all headed back out through the gates with Eli in their midst.  Arlo watched them go silently; he hoped that his impromptu orders for a day off hadn't upset Eli.  Thinking back to her admitting she was looking for something to cling to, to ground herself with...at the moment, one could think that work was the only thing she was using to cope.  Would his ordering her to take a day off do more harm than good?  He certainly hoped not.

...bah.  His stomach felt a bit knotted with the uneasy feeling from contemplating another war along with concern over whether he just made Eli's life a tiny bit more difficult.  He quickly crossed the plaza and headed up the hill toward the Round Table; by the fountain up ahead he could see a small gathering of folks all watching as a skinny man juggled silvery knives.  There was a battered flat cap laying on the ground in front of him with a handful of gols glinting in the sun; the man was yet another person Arlo hadn't seen before and out of curiosity he continued passed the restaurant to stand with the rest of the onlookers as the man juggled.

From here it was difficult to tell if the knives were actually real but the man was certainly treating them as though they were.  As he watched the knives flip from one hand to the other, behind the back, under legs and around elbows Arlo had to admit the man was rather skilled, and there were "oohs" and "ahhs" and gasps from the people around them as they watched the display of flying metal.  When the man reached the end of his juggling act he caught each knife in quick succession, sheathing them in identical, repeating motions, then gave an elaborate bow to a scattering of applause.  A few folks in the crowd dropped more gols into the hat, and Arlo waited patiently until they'd dispersed before approaching the man.

"Quite a talent."

The man didn't reply at first, choosing to bend and pick up the hat and carefully deposit the gols into his pocket so he could shove the hat back onto his head.   "Yep, sure is.  Drove my mum nuts growing up - couldn't leave anything within reach or I'd end up tossing it around.  You from here?"

Arlo nodded.  "I am.  Where are you from?"

"Born in Tallsky.  Came north because my audience was bored with me and I heard South Block was getting busy.  Dunno what folks's definition of busy is but I barely make enough to buy my dinner there.  Figured I'd try my luck here to sees if I can make enough to head back home."

Again he nodded.  "I see.  South Block is a growing trade post but most people you'll find there are traveling through and rarely stay for more than a day or so."

The man snorted.  "Tell me about it.  -- say, ain't a problem hanging around performing is there?"

"So long as you keep your distance and your knives to yourself there shouldn't be an issue.  Where are you staying? South Block?"

"Sure am," the man replied.  "Hopefully I make enough to move on soon.  Bus tickets might be cheap for some but not when you're picking between a bed, a meal, or a ride."

Arlo reached into his pocket and grabbed a handful of gols; without counting them he held them out.  "Here - at the very least try to get a meal for the evening.  The Round Table has reasonable prices and great food."

The man's eyes lit up and he grabbed for the money, then quickly cleared his throat and tried to look a little more dignified as he stowed the gols away with the rest.   "Thanks, stranger.  It's appreciated."

With a curt nod Arlo spun around to head back to the Round Table, and made a mental note to walk to South Block tomorrow to get a list of motel occupants from Yeye.   They hadn't noticed a lot of foot traffic from South Block lately but a singular traveler moving between the two towns could easily be missed.

It was crowded and busy inside the Round Table; there were a few empty booths but he didn't want to take up an entire one by himself so he took the only open seat at the bar which happened to be between Remington and Adam.

He gave them both a nod and then turned to look at Adam.  "How's it going out at the facility?"

"Alls quiet.  They started digging to place the door.  Mali's out there now with Sam - I'm charged with bringing them supper when I'm done with a few errands here in town."

"You should see the thing now. It sure doesn't look as huge as it did now that it's out of that building," Remington chuckled.

Arlo huffed out a sigh.  "That was a nightmare to deal with.  Little wonder the Old World had robots to do that sort of thing - it we hadn't borrowed that winch and pulley we probably wouldn't have been able to manage disconnecting that door from the wall by ourselves."

Sonia hurried by and went to hand him a menu, seemed to do a double take and realize who he was, then stowed the menu back beneath the counter.  "Hi Arlo!  Your usual?"

"Please. With a glass of orange juice please."  He waited until she left then lowered his voice.  "Keep an eye out for a heavily muscled man, bald, with a dark mustache.  He was eying Eli and I up, and I've no idea who he is."

"Will do," Remington replied.  "-er, by the way - Selene's on the prowl.  Party planning.  Just so you aren't blindsided."

Party planning... Remington's birthday was coming up soon and they STILL hadn't had the little gathering to welcome Eli and Asher to the team.   "Got it.  We don't have time for anything extravagant sadly."

Remington wrinkled his nose.  "Man, even if we did, I don't want extravagant."

Arlo chuckled and nodded to Sonia as she sat a chilled glass of orange juice on the counter in front of him; it was cold, tangy, and satisfying, and he had to will himself not to chug it down too quickly.

He would eat, pick up a few things from Total Tools, then head back to the Civil Corps building to-

"-has Eli ever mentioned to anyone when HER birthday is?" he asked then, looking between Adam and Remington.

"I...don't think so.  Maybe to Asher?"

Arlo turned to Adam.  "Has he said anything?"

Adam shook his head.  "Not a peep, and I'm pretty sure he would have if he knew."

"Huh.  We ought to ask her tomorrow morning then," Remington said into the pause that followed.

Arlo blew out a sigh.  "I gave her tomorrow off so whoever runs into her first..."

Sonia came over with their food (Arlo had no idea when the other two had ordered but all of it came out at the same time) and all conversation was set aside in favor of stuffing food in their faces as quickly as they could before they all went their separate ways: Remington to the Corps building, Adam back out to the facility, and Arlo back toward the plaza where hopefully Mars still had his shop open and had whetstones available.

Tonight Mali and Asher would be staking out the graveyard; they were both insistent that the two of them could handle things on their own and didn't need a third.  He didn't have much choice other than to trust to their confidence but as he picked up the whetstones and was heading up the stairs toward the Corps building he wondered if he should have asked Adam if he wanted another pair of eyes tonight out at the facility.

'If he wanted help I'm sure he would have asked,' Arlo found himself thinking as he pushed the door open to the Corps building and plodded across the sitting area toward his room.

That he was free to get a full night's sleep made him feel a tad guilty but, on the other hand, the better rested he was the more attentive he'd be, and that would only help them.  Probably.

[apokoliips]

I miss walking into my science lesson late and laughing with my friends about how this happens every day and at break I'll complain about double maths next period even though it was never as bad as it was in my head.

I miss bonding with people I barely know about mean teachers and missed deadlines, I miss my friends having to drag me period to period because I'd pulled another all nighter.

I miss playground gossip and "omg did you hear Johnathan and mary kissed". I miss having petty rivalries and arguments over who gets to sit by the window on the coach to pe, I miss girls giggling over the boys playing football.

I miss being elbowed in the line for mediocre lunch, I miss going to town with my friends after school and ignoring the mountains of homework we should be doing.

I miss being scared of the years above me and despising the years below me, I miss getting detentions for petty things and getting shouted at in the library for talking

I miss listening to music in class and sneaking into classrooms at lunch, I miss having crushes on classmates, I miss having week-long days and twenty minute nights

I miss the feeling of it finally being the weekend, I miss skipping assembly and hiding in the toilets, I miss hating teachers and loving Fridays

I miss remembering how young we looked as first years, I miss playing tag with kids I'd never spoken too, I miss running from teachers and running to fights

I miss lying about homework and stealing pens from art rooms, I miss making new friends and loosing old ones, I miss creating bonds over impossible maths problems and crying over french tests

I miss having art last period and double geography first, I miss smoking behind trees and laughing till I couldn't breath.

I miss going to the toilet during lesson to meet my friends I miss having lessons that lasted forever and ones that went by too fast, I miss eating food in maths and drinking coke in English I miss stealing paper from printers and texting my friends in class.

But most of all i just kind of miss everyone

They say these are the best years of your life but their wrong I hated every fucking second of it but I would give anything for one more day

Because of Corona I didn't have the last year I wanted because of Corona one day I woke up and was told I was never going back

And even though I wanted to burn it to the ground on a daily basis I was there for six years of my life and it just feels weird that I'm never going back.

[windtempos]

Midnight Mission

Adya can’t help but smile. The most advanced bionics money can buy, and the one thing that can take her out is a pretty girl with a melee weapon and metal arms.

Adya runs into some unexpected trouble on a mission, followed by some unexpected help from a very friendly face.

--

Loving one another was never the challenge for Adya and Reese-- acting like they didn’t was.

Neither of them were sure of Goddard's policy for romantic relationships between agents. They weren’t sure if they even wanted to call it one at all. Putting time aside both to a partner and to their jobs would be nearly impossible, especially considering how busy Adya was outside of agent work. Every day, a new interview, board meeting, or diagnostic check seemed to take up any ounce of free time she had. 

But Reese can’t deny that she looks at her colleague and wants everything to do with her. Living with four other agents and being right next door to Adya certainly doesn’t curb the thought, either. Even with the cold, harsh metal beneath her artificial skin, her touch always feels warm. Even when every gesture and expression is the result of 1s and 0s in her computer brain, she finds herself picking up Adya’s idle habits. Even when the world spins too fast for them to get a moment alone, it seems to slow down right when Reese wants it to. Just for a second-- then it’s back to business.

The only alone time that the two get is always under... strenuous circumstances. Luckily, amid the chaos of a fight, there’s one thing that all their teammates can agree upon: Adya and Reese work well under pressure.

Colby’s rifle rests across her lap. The weariness starts to set in; it’s almost two in the morning and she’s been camped out on this fire escape for an hour, waiting for someone who might never come.

“What do you have for me, Colburn?” Adya says from her wrist com.

“Exactly what I had for you two minutes ago,” she answers. “An empty storefront with the lights off. No one coming in or out. The building is big, so I can’t guarantee that they’re not using another exit. What do you have for me, Prisham?”

“Well, I found out there’s a basement. The walls are too thick for me to hear anything; and if I go down any further, I’ll lose your signal.”

“Our mission is reconnaissance only. The people in this building are supposedly picking apart old assembly line machines and reselling the parts.”

Adya keeps her footsteps light and ducks around the corner. The concrete is cold against her back in some spots, warm in others. It might just be the fact that she’s underground in a building that’s decades old, but something tells her that it’s more. “I don’t mind secondhand shopping until it means the difference between a bionic arm and a bomb.”

Colby’s tired eyes wake up when she notices five people look up and down the street before unlocking the front door. “Woah, woah,” she says, peering through the scope of her rifle. When one pulls at the handle, she notices his clawlike, bionic arm. “Adya, you’ve got incoming.”

Static.

“Adya?” she taps her wrist com gently a few times before giving up. The five figures disappear behind the building’s tinted windows.

Willing to take the risk, Adya slips into the stairwell and makes her way to the basement. Idle chatter and footsteps echo two flights above her. Shit, she mutters. The staircase goes down a few more flights, but she takes the first exit she sees. There isn’t enough time to shut it gently; the door swings back and latches with a tremendous thud on both sides. As she dives out of sight around the corner, she holds down the button on her wrist com. If live communication isn’t going through at this depth, all she can do is send out a tracking transmission and hope that no one has to use it.

Both sides of the hallway feature heavy, metal doors and one-way windows. Thermal vision tells her that each room has only a couple people inside; the rest of the space is occupied by machines, she assumes. She peers through one of the doors to see two men in dirty mechanic suits studying an elegant bionic arm propped up on the table. Instead of five fingers, the arm stops at the wrist with a wide opening similar to that of a gun. An arm cannon. We were right about this place.

The weight of Adya’s metal body against the metal door is enough to shove it open, however, and it lets out a creak that resonates down the hallway for everyone to hear. She breaks into a sprint down the hall. Even with the most lightweight bionics money can buy, her steps are heavy and loud against the concrete. She’s met by five pairs of eyes when she whips around the corner.

One of the men steps forward, extending his clawlike hand. “I’m impressed,” he begins. “This is a secure facility. Sneaking in here is pretty bold.”

“Guess I just love the thrill,” Adya responds, a firm hand on the pistol against her thigh.

“No, I think you’re just programmed that way.” He lets out a chuckle that feels almost robotic. Maybe his hand isn’t the only artificial thing about him. “Adya Milana Prisham. First human consciousness in a fully functional, artificial body. Designed for any fight. I’ve read up on you-- marvelous work.”

If she’s programmed for anything, it’s this. Her sense of fear is high enough to keep her safe, but low enough that she doesn’t freeze up in the face of danger. “Technically, I’m not built for combat. They didn’t start building military-grade bodies until after they put me in this one.”

“Hm. How unfortunate for you.” The claw attached to his wrist retracts, replacing itself with a narrow, four-pronged tool that the man presses into Adya’s shoulder. An overwhelming jolt of electricity courses through her system. Her joints lock up and her eyes go wide before abruptly returning to a neutral gaze. The world goes dark as her mind retreats into her limp body.

When Adya comes to, she’s blinded by the white light shining directly into her vision. Her wrists are bound to the wall above her head in tight, metal clamps. The room feels, looks, smells-- sterile. She knows the sensation of a bionics procedure room all too well.

“They say that the best way to learn is by doing,” the man says, noticing that she’s conscious, “and I’m tired of reading articles and analyzing blueprints. Let’s dissect that hunk of metal you call a body, huh?”

A small canister slides under the door and clatters against the concrete the moment that he turns to face Adya. Thick, white smoke fills the room faster than he can kick it away or cover it. He stumbles back into carts and tables, knocking trays of tools to the floor.

The sound of a struggle becomes the only discernible thing among the chaos. Adya notices a second, smaller heat signature has entered the room. When the smoke clears, it’s not the man’s face that she notices first. It’s the long, brunette hair and slim, bionic arms. It’s the brown eyes that could see right through you if they chose to. It’s the casual smile that never fails to be a sight for sore eyes.

“Reese?”

Reese coughs out some of the smoke, making sure that her opponent won’t be getting back up anytime soon. She pulls a key from his coat pocket. In one, swift movement, the staff in her hand retracts and latches back onto her belt. “I see that you turned your recon mission into an assault,” she says. “And I just turned it into a rescue. I got your tracking transmission.”

“At two in the fucking morning?” Adya scoffs, but it comes out as more of a chuckle. She can’t even pretend to be mad. “What are you doing awake?”

“Couldn’t sleep. The apartment feels too empty with you and Colby gone and I was working late anyway.”

Adya stares at Reese for a long while as she wanders over. “You were worried about me.”

Reese rolls her eyes, stretching her metal arms over her head in an attempt to look nonchalant. She wears black skinny jeans and a big, gray jacket over a tank top. While she may look out of her element in civilian clothes, Adya can’t deny that she looks awfully good in them. It’s not often they get to be out and about in anything but their uniforms. This doesn’t exactly qualify as “out and about”, though. “Was not,” Reese says.

“Yes you were! You did this last time I went on a midnight mission. Nate and I didn’t come back until four in the morning and there you were, pulling an all nighter.”

Reese rests a hand on the wall above Adya’s shoulder. She leans in closer with the dumbest, most smug grin anyone’s ever seen. “For the record, I got an hour of sleep that night. But keep talking-- I’ll just leave you here.”

Adya giggles and taps her nose against her colleagues. Too much time around Reese and she starts to short circuit. “The things you do to get me alone, Agent.”

“The things I do? You were here first, tin can. I’m doing you a favor.”

She reaches up with the key and slides it into the lock. Soon enough, Adya’s arms slip out, but now they’re caught in a new grip. Reese holds tight to her hands and locks her lips against Adya’s. For a few seconds, everything disappears-- no bionics, no enemies, no threat of being dissected like a lab project. There is Adya and Reese, nothing more. The earth melts out from under their feet like rocks floating downstream, away from the heavy world.

Static spews out of Adya’s wrist com. “Adya?” Colby says. Great timing.

“I’m here,” she says, still eyeing Reese an inch away from her. “I’m on my way out. We were right-- they’re building black market bionics here.”

“What took you so long?”

“I ran into some unfriendly faces.”

“Followed by a very friendly one,” Reese chimes in. “Hey, Colby.”

Colby’s gasp is so loud that it almost scrambles her transmission. “Reese, the General is gonna be furious that you snuck onto this operation!”

Reese opens the door and follows her colleague out into the hallways. “Which is why we’re not gonna tell her.”

Ever the ambitious member of their team, Reese darts down the corridors, narrowly avoiding eyes and ears with ease. Adya follows close behind, ears still ringing from the kiss earlier. She can’t help but smile. The most advanced bionics money can buy, and the one thing that can take her out is a pretty girl with a melee weapon and metal arms.

[overthinking-american-teenager]

They Were Supposed to be Non-Addictive

I almost had a breakdown after I couldn’t find a bottle of muscle relaxers. I’m only seventeen, I’m a member of the National Honor Society and varsity swimmer. I’ve been accepted to all of the colleges I applied to and was offered generous financial aid for each acceptance. It’s not supposed to happen to me. They were supposed to be non-addictive, a safe alternative for a shoulder injury after my struggles with oxycodone after a surgery I had last year for a sports-related injury.

I’m supposed to be better, to not fall down the dark holes that they warn us about since the drug and alcohol classes they give us in the sixth grade. I’m not supposed to be like my mother, we are different. I made sure that we are different, but it seems that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree after all. 

I couldn’t find the bottle, I guess I used all of them up. They helped me sleep, even though they were just supposed to stop a muscle spasm in my shoulder. I didn’t wake up in the middle of the night, scared that some unknown force that no one else could see was trying to kill me. They took away my nightmares, my anxiety, my fear of being alone. They made me a ghost of myself, but for the first time in a while, I wasn’t haunted.

They always talk about addiction like it is horrible in all ways. Don’t get me wrong, it is, I’ve seen it with my own eyes, and heard it within my own thoughts. But, they always leave out the reason why people use in those powerpoints they show us in health class or the school assembly where the parent of a late heroin addict comes to talk to us. It numbs me to the void that is my mind. My mind, that should be perfectly healthy, but isn’t. When I was using the pills, the constant screaming in my head stopped. I was calm, I wasn’t frantic or agitated, I was normal for all intents and purposes. 

And now, for the question that I face every day of my life. Why stop? The pills I was using didn’t hurt me, they didn’t poison my body, they weren’t illegal, hell, they were prescribed by my doctor. Three times. It wasn’t until I had to stop using them, that I noticed my dependence. Eight o’clock rolled around, and suddenly I couldn’t breathe or think right. I wanted them, but I didn’t need them for their purpose anymore, my shoulder was healed. It’s been months since I stopped, though one was taken occasionally after an all-nighter or particularly nasty anxiety attack. But I’m all out now. The prescription is done. No more pills for me. 

I feel like crying again. They were supposed to be non-addictive, but here I am, writing about how much I want one of those tiny, orange pills.