#not pictured: how it started raining BUCKETS shortly after I took these pictures.

[notbecauseofvictories]

[ Snapshots from Luzern — June 2024 ]

[thxqutee]

𝐃𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐄𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬𝐞

𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘧 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵��𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘬 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘥. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵, 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴, 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘵. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩.

𝘼/𝙉 : First fic WHOOPWHOOP plz be nice! 😋

First smidge of dialogue is from the actual game, but the rest is from yours truly!!

Story MAINLY starts after Max makes her decision..

Very slow burn.. 😔

I’ll be as active with chapters as I can!!

Fic is on ao3!!

𝘾𝙃 1 : 𝙋𝙊𝙇𝘼𝙍𝙄𝙕𝙀𝘿

Overlooking the cliff on Arcadia Bay, Max and Chloe were witnessing the apocalyptic storm raging around them with terrifying intensity. Dark clouds churned overhead, lightning split the sky, and the wind howled, threatening to tear everything apart. Waves crashed violently against the rocks below, while debris flew through the air like deadly projectiles. The air was thick and almost humid with the smell of rain and burnt electricity, as the ground trembled beneath their feet with each thunderous boom.

Chloe's blue hair whipped wildly around her face, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and disturbance. Her usually defiant posture was tempered by uncertainty, her gaze locked on Max. Max, her expression solemn and determined yet fraught with the weight of her powers. Her eyes glowed with a faint blue light as she struggled to comprehend the chaos around them, scanning for any sign of a way to end the cataclysm.

Max’s eyebrows pinched together in worry and grievance as she took in the destruction that was caused due to her manipulation and abuse of her own power. She looked at the tornado angrily

“This is my storm. I caused this… I caused all of this” Max cried out “I changed fate and destiny so much that… I actually did alter the course of everything. And all I really created was death and destruction!” She took a few steps forward, observing the hurricane as raindrops splashed on her face and her soaked, messy hair. Chloe turned Max around.

“Fuck all of that, okay? You were given a power. You didn’t ask for it… and you saved me! Which had to happen, all of this did… except for what happened to Rachel.” Chloe aggressively assured Max “But without your power, we wouldn’t have found her! Okay so you’re not the goddamn Time Master, but you’re Maxine Caufield. And you’re amazing.” Both locked eye contact and were silent for a brief moment until Max had looked off into the horizon of the storm. “Max, this is the only way.” Chloe handed Max the photograph of a Morpho butterfly on a bucket, shortly before Nathan threatened Chloe with a gun in the girl’s bathroom.

“I-I feel like I took this shot a thousand years ago.” She locked her eyes on picture.

“You…you could use that photo to change everything right back to to when you took the picture” Chloe’s voice cracked “All that would take is for me to.. to..” She began to sob into her hands.

“Fuck that!“ Max quickly cut her off “No…no way! You are my number one priority now. You are all that matters to me” She comforted. Chloe removed her hands from her face revealing her glossed face and red tinted eyes.

“I know. You proved that over and over again. Even though I don’t deserve it.” Chloe bawled “I’m so selfish…not like my mom. Look what she had to give up and live through. And she did. She deserves so much more than to be killed by a storm in a fucking diner!” She shouted “Even my s- my step…father deserves her alive. There’s so many people in Arcadia Bay who should live. Way more than me.”

“Don’t say that! I won’t trade you!” Max persisted

“You’re not trading me. Maybe you’ve just been delaying my real destiny” Chloe argued “Look at how many times I’ve almost died or actually died around you. Look what’s happened in Arcadia Bay ever since you first saved me. I know I’ve been selfish, but for once I think I should accept my fate… our fate…” She put her hand on her shoulder. Max shook her head in denial.

“Chloe…” She wept

“Max, you finally came back this week and, you did nothing but show me your love and friendship. You made me smile… and laugh, like I have done in years” Chloe sense that Max was staring at her quite somberly, as if she was starting to sense the outcome “Wherever I end up after this… in whatever reality all those moments between us were real, and they’ll always be ours. No matter what you choose, I know you’ll make the right descision.” She exclaimed.

“Chloe, I can’t make this choice!” Max wailed. Chloe rested both of her hands on Max’s and stared at her determination.

“No Max,” The tone of Chloe’s voiced quickly softened “You’re the only one who can”. As tear on Chloe’s waterline sunk back into her eye, a new one formed on Max’s. She stayed silent as Chloe awaited on her decision. “Max…It’s time.” She lowered her hands and backed away.

“Chloe…I’m so, so sorry… I…” She apologized “I don’t wanna do this!” Chloe wrapped her arms around Max’s neck

“I know, Max. But we have to. We have to save everybody okay?” Chloe released the hug “And you’ll make those fuckers pay for what they did to Rachel. Being together this week… it was the best farewell gift I could have hoped for. You’re my hero Max.”

“Oh Chloe…I’m gonna miss you so much” They went in for another hug in the midst of chaos as pieces from buildings swirled around them. Chloe let go of Max.

“I’ll always love you. Now get out of here, please! Do it before I freak.” Chloe laughed at the end of her cry “And Max Caufield? Don’t you forget about me.”

“Never.” Max shook her head. She pulled the photograph out from her left hand, and focused on the image. Everything blurred into a haze, then went blank. Suddenly, Max found herself transported back to the moment she had taken that photograph. A click of the camera produced an instant photo from it. Max let go of the photo, watching it drift onto the cold tile floor. She peeked over the bathroom stall, awaiting to see Nathan’s break in. The door swung open violently, prompting Max to swiftly turn and press herself against the wall, out of sight. Nathan began frantically muttering to himself in the mirror, only for Chloe to confront him, leading to an argument between them. Max leaned herself up against the wall slowly sliding down, allowing the situation to play out. She knew what to expect next when she heard Chloe order him to put his gun away. The gunshot made Max flinch, sending a ring through her ears. Blood from Chloe’s wound quickly spurted out as Nathan desperately tried to wake her lifeless body up.

David Madsen barged in with an armed gun, his body almost going limp once he saw Chloe on the floor. He looked up to see Nathan with his arms up, begging for mercy.

“Son of a…” David dropped his weapon and lunged himself onto him. Nathan braced himself to soften the impact. David put him in handcuffs promptly, only to see Max sniveling in the corner of the bathroom. His eyes softened with sympathy as he pulled a walkie-talkie from his belt “Principal Wells…” he sucked in his tears “Come to the bathroom. A..And bring some officials. Please.” There was a faint echo from the beep of his device. Max felt as if it was safer to cry as much as she wanted. There was no one to hurt her. Not Nathan, and definitely not Mr. Jefferson. David stood up next to Nathan. “We’re um…we’re gonna let the real cops handle this.” He huffed, nudging Nathan with his foot “And the paramedics, they’ll take care of Chloe”. He wiped his eyes, doing his best to keep his composure in front of Max. “C’mon kiddo, follow me.” He assisted Max to her feet while she used her jacket sleeve to wipe away the tears from her face.

David shielded her as they exited the bathroom. Authorities and students crowded the area, their murmurs and chatter filling the air from all directions. He took them to a more open area, with only a few questionnaires continuing to follow them.

“Max? Hey! Max!” Max recognized that voice. She looked over her shoulder to see Warren’s head poking through at what had seemed to be her peers.

“Warren!?” She weakly called out, still latched on to David

“MAAAAX! HEY! I’m right here!” Warren started hopping up and down making himself visible

“Warren…” Max smiled broadly. Warren squeezed himself through the narrow crowd of students. Max and David both fully turned around together as Warren finally made his way through the maze of students. Max let go of David. “Oh my god..” She clung herself tightly around his torso. Warren then wrapped his left arm around her neck leaving his right hand to hold her head. Warren pulled away with both hands being on Max’s shoulders.

“Max, what happened? Are you okay?” Warren asked worriedly. Max studied Warren's features as they locked eyes. It had then it her that this was the boy she had kissed during chaos. He was the one who had assisted her with science tasks and stood by her side, yet he had no memory of any of those moments. This only made her more upset.

“Oh, Warren!” She blubbered. She buried her head into his shoulder and cried loudly. David awkwardly backed away and cleared his throat.

“Warren, correct?” He raised his eyebrow. Warren nodded patting Max’s back as she cried. “Okay, well uh, I think I’ll let you two go now.” He assertively tipped his hat. Warren gave him a thumbs up and watched him walk away. Warren and Max slowly broke away to see the commotion. Police sirens could be heard coming directly from the entrance of the school. Two police officers were escorting Mr. Jefferson down the stairs. Max found relief in seeing him taken into custody as soon as they could. They turned back to one another.

“You have some serious catching up to do” Warren chuckled softly. Max smiled, resting herself on him.

“I know, Warren.”

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Almost Sweet

i felt like hell a couple days ago and wanted to project a little, and i just wanna see geralt be a little soft and goofy

Pairing: Geraskier- could be read gen tho

CW: teen, geralt feels sick? jask plays nurse a little?

_________________________

Geralt woke with a massive hangover, at least that's what it felt like, but for the life of him, he couldn’t recall having more than a weak ale with dinner the night before. He groaned and rolled over, thinking he possibly drank enough to forget the whole night, though that wasn’t usually the case unless Lambert was involved. His body ached with every movement and his head throbbed no matter how much light he blocked out with the covers, and to make everything worse he was starting to feel nauseous. 

Absolutely nothing was worse than being nauseous in Geralt’s book. He would quite literally rather nearly bleed out or break a bone than throw up.

So when Jaskier greeted him with his perky “Good morning Sleepy Head! Fancy a lie-in today? Suddenly the monsters will hunt themselves? Hm?” Geralt rolled back over and groaned, his stomach doing a backflip at the movement. 

“How much did I drink last night?” Geralt moaned, doing his best to cocoon himself even more. 

He could almost picture the confused scrunch to Jaskier’s nose when he answered, “Nothing? You turned in early with a snide remark about my music giving you a headache.”

“Hm…” It was slowly coming back to him, but all Geralt could really focus on was the way his body was trying to punish him, “Crowd was loud… not you.”

There was a pause where Geralt thought Jaskier might simply saunter out of the room and leave him to suffer in peace, but Melitelle knows he’d never been a lucky man. 

“Geralt? Can I feel your forehead?” Jaskier asked, his voice softening just a touch, a nice compensation for how the dip in the mattress made Geralt’s head spin. The witcher didn’t have the energy to bat Jaskier’s hand away as he gently pulled the covers back and laid the back of his hand over Geralt’s brow. The cool touch was rather nice, actually, and a small pout snuck onto Geralt’s face when the hand disappeared.

Jaskier hummed in thought and slowly got up to grab a rag and wet it in the little basin of water provided, “You’re sick, dear. Didn’t even know witchers could get sick.” He brushed some hairs off of Geralt’s forehead and laid the cool cloth over the too-warm skin. Geralt couldn’t quite stifle a shiver as the rest of him suddenly felt far too cold but still sweaty and hot. 

“Must’ve eaten…” Geralt trailed off and clenched his jaw as a wave of nausea passed over him, “...something bad…” 

“We’ve shared meals for weeks, my friend. You simply caught something fighting monsters in the pouring rain.” Jaskier almost sounded amused in the way that usually made him roll his eyes, but he didn’t have the energy to be gruff. Instead, he just furrowed his brow and pulled the blankets back up to his chin. 

“Try to sleep it off, I’ll be back shortly,” Jaskier whispered, flipping the rag over to the cool side and earning a contented hum from Geralt. 

To Geralt’s disappointment, he got no sleep, only watched the door and wished that Jaskier wasn’t taking so long doing whatever it was he was up to. He’d never in a million years admit he wanted company for company’s sake, but as the minutes ticked on he began to worry that the bard wouldn’t return till after sundown. Maybe he’d found some well-to-do townsfolk and was charming them with inflated tales of adventure for a spot at their table or a cozy bed without a sick witcher. 

It was because of these thoughts, nothing more, that his face lit up when Jaskier finally returned, “You’re back.”

“You look relieved,” Jaskier laughed, setting down a basket on the table and a bucket by the bed.

Geralt could feel his eyes glaze over as Jaskier took the rag from his forehead with a little wince, “Who want’s to stay with a sick witcher?”

“Me,” Jaskier tutted, pulling a mug of steaming liquid from the basket and sitting next to him on the bed, “Drink this.” 

“What is it?” Geralt asked, looking from the cup to Jaskier warily, not out of distrust but definitely not wanting to make himself worse. 

“Poison.” 

A small laugh bubbled up out of Geralt but oh mother of fuck did  it make everything feel worse, “Jask, no,” he moaned, trying not to laugh as Jaskier chuckled at his misery “Don’t be funny. It hurts.” 

“Gods you’re almost sweet when you’re sick,” he observed, tucking a stray hair behind Geralt’s ear and guiding his chin a bit to the side so he could tip the contents of the mug into Geralt’s mouth bit by bit. 

When Jaskier pulled the mug away, satisfied with how much he’d drank Geralt was feeling rather sleepy but still cold, “M’not.”

“Mhm, sure.” Jaskier didn’t seem to bother hiding his sarcasm but the gentle strokes to Geralt’s cheeks and forehead made up for the slight in his book. He briefly thought he should be upset by the affection, that he needed to push Jaskier away for some noble reason, but he was too tired to be noble. And if he couldn’t sleep then at least he could have this? 

“Do you still feel cold?” Jaskier’s voice almost sounded distant and Geralt realized that he was starting to shiver from the light sheen of sweat all over his body. 

When he nodded, eyes still closed tight, though he wasn’t sure when he closed them, Jaskier’s hand disappeared from his forehead. Geralt whined at the loss, only to be jarred back to his upset senses by Jaskeir clambering over him and shuffling under the covers with him. 

He weakly protested as Jaskier enveloped him in a warm embrace, “But you’ll get sick.”

“If I haven’t already, I doubt I will now,” Jaskier soothed, running his fingers through Geralt’s hair, “Just let me know if you think you’re about to be sick.” 

“Mhm…” Geralt nodded, for once allowing himself to settle back into Jaskier and breathe. It was nice to have someone to take care of him for once. 

[vina-writes]

Flooded

Written for the @drarrymicrofic​ prompt: Flood.

Rating: G

Length: 1.8k

Summary: The water came late in the settling dusk. The last peaceful image that night was of glowing thatched rooftops.

Notes: Thank you so much @fw00shy​ and @phenomenalasterisk​ for betaing!! 

(i)

The water came late in the settling dusk. It had rained for days, heavy sheets of downpour ripping up the freshly planted crops and washing the grass down to a smooth, mud-caked finish. The sun had just peeked through, and Harry watched it set from his doorstep. The last peaceful image that night was of glowing thatched rooftops.

It started silent and quick, and then all at once, it was roaring. The river had been rising all day, but this torrent rushed down from the mountains in a frothing, dirty-brown wave, carrying rocks and trees and carving its way across the valley.

Harry heard it last. By the time he awoke, the water was soaking through his mattress and the shouts were rising in the night. He took what he could find in the dark, settled Lily over his shoulder, and climbed into the hills without looking back. The others should have done the same—Molly Weasley and her brood, the Creeveys, the Grangers, the Longbottoms and Lovegoods, the Finnigans and MacMillans. 

Harry waited for them until morning. The sun broke on the hilltops, spilling over the mountain range. The birds sang in the stillness, and he waited. Lily drank from her bottle, too young to graze on the grass. He rubbed her soft lamb ears and waited.

Noon, and no one. 

Draco found him this way at dusk. He came quietly, like the flood. Harry heard the soft footsteps behind him, and when he turned, hoping beyond hope, it was only to see the rumoured herbalist. They cast him out years ago—his practice was deviant. Molly feared witchcraft.

“Hello,” Draco said. “Has the village finally grown so dull as to stop using maps? Are directions considered magic now, too?” 

“What?” Harry asked, too grief-stricken for anything else.

“Are you lost?”

“I—no.” Harry turned to look at the valley, at the copse of trees that hid the flooded road from view. “There was a flood.”

Draco was quiet for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was soft with understanding.

“Your leg is injured,” he said. “And your lamb is hungry. You can stay with me, if you like.”

Harry had nowhere else to go.

Draco’s cottage itself was flooded—flooded with dried herbs and jars and knitted blankets. A fire burned brightly in a holly-decked hearth, and he beckoned Harry over to it, laying out a nest of soft cloths for Lily. Draco left them there with water and fresh bread, but when he returned, Harry flinched away from the needle in his hands.

“It won’t heal otherwise,” Draco said, nodding to the wide wound running up the inside of Harry’s calf. Harry let him come close, gritting his teeth all the while, but Draco poured strange potions over the torn skin until it grew numb. Harry couldn’t feel Draco’s hands as he stitched, but he swore his skin grew hot nonetheless at every touch. 

That night, when Draco warmed their blankets by the fire and fed them all milk and honey, Harry didn’t feel the grief quite so keenly. 

Their routine the first few days was stilted. Harry was wary of Draco’s craft, still carrying the ache of his lost home, and Draco was insulted by his avoidance. But Harry was also grateful for Draco’s help and food, and intrigued by his life. Intrigued by Draco himself, if he was honest, and the way he could be so sharp one minute and so cheerful the next. Above all, however, Draco was kind—no matter his words, he was always gentle with Lily, and patient when Harry cut himself chopping wood or broke one of his many jars.

Perhaps it was that patience and curiosity that bridged the unspoken space between them. Draco took him to the meadows near his cottage and showed him how to knit, and in the sunlight his fingers took on a life of their own. Harry watched them move and felt the startling urge to catch them in his hand, to hold them close like something precious. He looked away and wove his fingers through the grass instead.

Draco had a cow, too. Her name was Daisy, and when she licked Lily’s small head, her tongue covered her from nose to ears. She lived in a stable set against the side of the cottage. Harry took to milking her in the meadows each day. One such bright morning he spotted chamomile among the flowers, and he plucked bunches of it until the milk bucket was overflowing with stems. Draco made tea from them and they drank it together on the single bed that night, Lily curled up between them. When they fell asleep, close together on the pillow, his breath smelled of chamomile and honey.

The days passed, and with each new dawn Harry felt himself heal. Draco applied poultices to his leg until not even a scar remained, and every night they took turns feeding Lily, letting her lick stray milk off their hands. Draco’s laugh when she tickled him was musical, high and contagious, and the way his cheeks bunched up when he smiled made Harry want to kiss them. 

That was fine on its own—his growing desire for Draco’s body. That was manageable. What was worse was the days when Draco was sullen, when his herbs over-brewed or he slept poorly, and he spent the day snapping at Harry in increasingly creative ways. When Harry still thought to bring him meadow flowers, when he happily made dinner if only to see the appreciation on Draco’s face, that was when he began to worry. Because love showed itself in many ways, but with Draco, it began to show itself everywhere.

Draco took him upstream one afternoon, to a hidden pool fed by a tumbling waterfall. He wordlessly let Harry hold his hand as they dipped their fingers in the soft spray, and though Harry’s heart was racing, he found he could wash his feet in the stream. With Draco there, it didn’t remind him so much of a wet mattress beneath his back and swirling water on his floorboards.

Later, Harry found a crystal in the moss—clear and six-sided, with a vibrant rainbow down the center. Draco’s cheeks flushed red when Harry gave it to him, and he called Harry names as he wrapped it carefully in cloth and stowed it in a pocket next to his heart. Harry admitted to himself that he might be in love.

Two months after that fateful rain, a mare found her way to their cottage. Harry recognized her dappled grey pelt straight away—she was a draft horse, strong and well-trained, one of the Lovegoods’ herd. There was a bridle in Draco’s stable, and Harry fitted it to her before he fed her, brushing out her long mane and her shiny coat.

When he showed her to Draco, however, his expression soured and he sniffed, muttering about expenses and food. He took his basket and left shortly after, and the jars rattled from the way he slammed the door.

Harry waited until evening before he followed Draco. He didn’t understand what could possibly be wrong—a mare would make their work twice as easy, and she could graze with Daisy long into the fall months—but he refused to leave Draco to wander the dark alone. 

By the time Harry found him on their hilltop, the sun was setting across the valley. It painted the fields gold, and Draco’s hair shone like silk in the fading light. He had his knees pulled up to his chest, his head rested on them, and it hit Harry then that he must have been barely twenty, too young to paint such a lonely picture on the mountaintop. It made Harry want to hold him close and promise him countless things, if only to see him smile.

“Are you still upset?” he asked instead as he sat beside Draco. There was no immediate reply. “I don’t think she’ll be a burden. We could name her Rose, or Buttercup. Then we’d have a whole bouquet.”

Draco shrugged slightly, but his head was still turned away.

“I’ll make tea at home and introduce you,” Harry said, feigning a cheerfulness he wasn’t feeling. “We can sit on the hay and feed Lily honey milk. You like it when she sucks on your fingers.” 

“Is that my goodbye gift, then?” Draco finally said stiffly.

Harry stared at him. Opened his mouth, but was unsure what to say. When Draco offered for him to stay, he’d thought that meant—he didn’t know what he’d thought. He hadn’t thought of their time together as limited. He didn’t want it to be limited. He wanted—Harry couldn’t even think it, in the face of what Draco seemed to be telling him.

“Has my welcome ended?” he said carefully. Draco finally looked at him, and Harry noticed that his cheeks were streaked with dried tears, shiny against his pale skin.

“What are you talking about?”

“What are you talking about?” Harry shot back. Draco frowned at him.

“You have a horse,” he said, as if that explained everything. “You have a horse, Harry. A horse can get you to the nearest town, to the city if you wish. I’ll understand if you take Lily—she’ll give you wool to sell, at some point, and she’s light. I can—I can give you some money to start, too—it’s just a little, but I—”

“Draco,” Harry said, aghast, “what on earth do you think is happening?”

Draco’s frown slowly changed to confusion. “You’re leaving, of course.”

“Do you want that?” A warm hope was spreading in Harry’s chest. He knew the answer, based on Draco’s unsubtle mood, but he wanted to hear it.

Draco stayed silent for a moment, picking at the grass. “You need to look elsewhere if you want to seek success for yourself. You have the means to do that.”

“Who says there’s no success for me here?”

“You—Harry, there’s nothing here,” Draco said slowly, as if it were obvious. “There’s no one, nothing. You have a horse. You can go—you can make a future for yourself.”

“But I’m doing that right now,” Harry said. “And there is someone. Although he’s being rather obtuse at the moment, throwing a strop about something that’s not a problem.”

Draco looked him squarely in the eyes, and there was fear in his expression, the first Harry had ever seen on him. “You’ll tire of me.”

“I won’t.”

“You can’t know that.”

“I can,” Harry said firmly. “I can, because you’re acting like a woebegotten widow right now, and I still want to do this.” 

He leaned over and kissed Draco softly in the dying light. Draco’s hands came up to cup his face, smelling of earth and grass. 

“I don’t,” Draco admitted quickly as soon as they parted, his voice thick. “I don’t want you to leave.”

“I’m home,” Harry said gently. “Where else would I go?”

Draco kissed him again. And by the time Harry found it in himself to pull away from Draco’s lips, even for a brief moment, the stars had already come out. But they had all the time in the world.

Read on Ao3

[youarejesting]

Lost Boys

[Full Masterlist]

Rating: All Pairing: BTSxReader Genre: Supernatural, thriller, psychological, angst, cute nature boys, symbolism, trigger warnings: abandonment, mature, fantasy, supernatural, and character death. Words: 2.2k

Summary: Bangtan Forest was said to be evil, stealing children and anyone who got lost. Some say it was attacking the humans. You don’t think much of scary campfire stories, that is until the rocks and trees come alive.

Aisles of high tech camping gear had you in awe. You even thought about a new sleeping bag but, it just seemed like a waste. There was nothing wrong with the sleeping bag you already had and to buy a new one to use once a year was not worth the money. 

Grabbing the mosquito repellent you headed to the counter. Your friends were carrying emergency lights and flares standing in line behind you ready to make their purchases. “Good morning, just these?” The young girl smiled, she was deep in her role of customer service, which you totally respected.

“Uh... yeah and um, one of these please” You placed the emergency whistle onto the counter, it was plastic and only cost fifty cents.

“Of course, is that on the card today?” She continued talking and you smiled nodding holding up the card, stepping to the other side to pay. Taking your things, there wasn’t much left for you in the shop. That is until you heard something interesting. 

“There was another landslide by Bangtan Forest, it can’t seem to let anyone get close,” An old man said to another, “Luckily no one was hurt or went missing this time.”

The drive was beautiful and the radio played nothing but summer hits, you were singing along with the others, they were your closest of friends. Lillia was a sweet young lady, she loved nature and had a particularly soft spot for mushrooms. She brought her camera and expected to take some cool shots over the course of the weekend.

You were looking forward to going wild, not like partying wild. No, more like, sitting in the dirt, lighting fires, and splashing around in a river. That was your paradise, your escape. Having almost screamed into the phone when the suggestion of camping was brought up. If it got you out of your house and out of your life for a moment, you would take it.

The camping grounds were pretty, you passed a sign on your way in that had a lot of warning pictures but you didn’t have time to read them all. The only one you saw was to put out your fires entirely before you leave, which honestly felt like common knowledge, and if you didn’t know that you shouldn’t go camping alone. Forest fires were not a joke.

Finding a place to pitch a tent was hard, a lot of the really shady spots were taken but there was a really beautiful spot by the river. According to Jester, your know-it-all friend, the river spread through the whole of the forest intricately like a spider web. “Because of the river the vegetation inside is thick, people say as you walk the vines grow around you and if you stop, you will be buried under the vegetation.”

“I heard that bad person used to leave their kids behind, and the forest took them in and that if ever you are lost or left behind the forest takes you,” Lillia said lowering her sweet voice trying to be serious. “There was a story, of a class field trip of kids were pulled off the trail and they were never seen again. They say the forest is evil.”

“I heard it protects the kids because they are left alone.” Jester contradicted and Lillia nodded pointing at the other. Nodding in agreement as she ate a slice of orange.

“I heard that too,” She smiled “I like that idea, that the forest just is a home taking care of the children left behind.”

As if ominously on cue the three of you had heard giggling coming from across the river. But it was drowned out by laughing and cheering from up the river, another group was splashing around and soon you all joined. 

The two groups became friends and it was fun, but it started to rain, nothing extreme just a light drizzle. You had dinner early and hoped into your tents. You were alone in yours as there was supposed to be another person on the trip but they couldn’t make it due to a family event.

It didn’t take long until you were fast asleep to the sound of the rain. You don’t know how long you were asleep for when you woke up suddenly a sting in your chest, shaking that aside you heard crying. 

Getting a little scared you poked your head outside the tent and saw a child running from one of the tents in the park to the water. He was calling for his mother and moving for the forest begging his mother to come back and you wondered if the mum had been taken or went to the toilet. Either way, this child was running straight into the forest.

Lost or left behind the forest takes you, you thought back on those words, The forest is evil. 

Every other thought left your head and your primary objective was to save the child, you began running, your body felt like you were moving through cement. That’s how thick the plant life was, you had a stitch in your side after a mere five minutes of sprinting but you kept pushing until suddenly the child hopped across the rocks and curled up and he was gone, in his place was a Pinecone.

You hopped across the rocks careful not to get your feet wet, you had slipped on your sneakers and you didn’t want to walk back to camp with them wet. Speaking of camp, you were lost and the child you were following had disappeared and left in his place a pinecone.

Stepping up to the small pinecone, you pocket it and it wiggled around in the dirt letting out a chorus of childish laughter. Shaking with giggles in the corner of your eyes was a small pile of leaves, you were looking around breathing heavily and freaking out. 

As you were frozen in place in shock and trying to catch a glimpse of someone playing a trick you felt something entwine around your legs. You shrieked jumping and ripping your feet free from the vines that started to grow around your shoes.

“Alright, boy’s you had your fun, go play with the other kids your age,” A voice said, you were relieved finally someone had revealed themselves it was just an elaborate plank until a decent sized boulder began to move, it was like camouflage, and from the curled up position a human stood up and straightened out. “Can’t a rock get some sleep around here?”

“Come on, Yoongi you are no fun?” a voice said from your left, you looked trying to find where the voice was coming from and you smiled seeing the moss open its eyes and step away from the tree making you shriek. 

They were people camouflaged perfectly to appear like trees and rocks. They were strange-looking and you weren’t sure if this was some weird dream or if it was real. The more you looked the stranger they appeared. Some of their features were replaced with other things.

“I am starting to solidify more and more” the rock man who may be the one the other referred to as Yoongi muttered and a Berry Bush wiggled itself free from the ground and he walked over helping the rock man stretch.

“A log pulled itself up off the ground and stretched with the creak of old wooden furniture and gave a low groan. This distracted you from the movement behind you. 

“We have been getting bored on our own, but it is nice to have a friend visit,” A voice said, and when you turned you saw a man covered in mushrooms, his head was topped by a big mushroom that made him look like he was wearing a bucket hat. You almost laughed at the insanity.

“Ahhh, it is so nice to be free” A sapling wiggled until its roots or in this case feet were free. 

“Where is Jin?” The logman asked and they all looked around. The pile of leaves and the pinecone wiggled around until children appeared gesturing to a nearby meadow.

“Thank you Hyuning, Yeonjun” The mushroom guy smiled and they began hopping over the river using the rocks, The sapling grinned waving you to follow.

“If you stay too long the vines will start wrapping around you again, I am Jungkook” He smiled, along the way they all introduced themselves and you had to admit this was the oddest and trippiest meeting you ever had.

“There he is,” Taehyung called and Seokjin who they had told you about on the way had appeared lifting himself off the grounds his body covered in sweet flowers. “What were you doing out here?”

“I was trying to get some sleep but someone was snoring” He stretched ignoring the snickering from Jungkook who said he was probably up late with the kids playing games. “Who is this?”

“Oh, this is…” Namjoon said and froze, “I am sorry, we didn’t get your name?”

“Oh my name is Y/n” you smiled and they nodded 

“We are helping Y/n get out of the forest,” Jimin said puffing his chest out his leaves rustling. It was so odd to see these people dressed like they were in some school play, like tree number one and rock number three. 

“It’s no rush, just as long as I get out at some point,” You said trying to ease their worried expressions.

No, you don’t get it if you are still here when the sunrises, you will be stuck in the forest forever.” Yoongi said, “We are all here for a reason, Namjoon has been in the forest the longest, he used to be a tree before he fell.”

“Well, maybe we should hurry,” You said looking at the vines trying to wrap around your feet once more. “I have to keep moving these vines really are aggressive when it comes to wanting to keep me here.”

Along the way the boys began talking, each telling their story. Namjoon said he was from 1761 and he was left there by his mother who could no longer feed him after his father died. “I was nineteen and very sick so I didn’t last very long. But, it wasn’t long until I met Jin he was twenty-one and got lost in the forest.”

“I was collecting flowers for my fiancee I was supposed to be getting married shortly and well, I never even got to meet hurt.” Seokjin smiled, continuing on the storytelling from Namjoon and explaining his experience “I was kind of wishing I would get lost, I was so young and didn’t want to get married to a stranger.”

“I think it was 1892 and I was about twenty as well, I had run away from home, I remember stealing food from town and whilst escaping ran into the forest and I never came back out.” He shrugged, keeping his story concise as he helped you step over a fallen tree, “life as a rock is peaceful.”

“I was part of a traveling circus and well it wasn’t a good living, the people were awful and beat you if you spoke, one of the performers had a grudge for me so I hid in the forest and when I tripped the vines grew over me quickly” Hoseok made hand gestures at you making you giggle and move away from him, you bumped into Jimin who caught you before you fell. “That was maybe 1901 and I was about nineteen”

“I can’t remember much, I remember being really drowsy in a car and being told to wait while my father got some juice, I was about eighteen and he didn’t come back. The forest called me inside.” Jimin frowned slightly.

“I was hiking and I lost my way following a pretty butterfly,” Taehyung pouted, “I didn’t mean to get lost and I wish I had paid attention, I just wanted to take a picture.”

‘For me, it was not too long ago, a class excursion, we were following the trail and a bully dropped my hat in the river I chased after it and before I knew it I didn’t know where they had gone. I was seventeen.” Jungkook said with a smile that looked somewhat forced. “But it’s not all bad. I have made some really great friends.”

“And who else would play with the little ones. So many children got left in the forest much younger than us.” Seokjin explained sadly.

You saw the forest thinning out and flashes of red and blue flickered through the trees, you stepped out to the edge to see police and ambulances and more, there was a landslide. It was at your campsite, you froze looking around spotting your friends sitting in the back of the ambulance. 

The vines were wrapping around your feet but you ripped them free, “it was nice meeting you thank you” You said, and placing the whistle between your lip you blew hard.

“We found her!” a voice shouted, you gave up on cautiously hopping rocks and went running across the river. When your foot touched the water you fell your shoes had disappeared as had your legs and from your waist down you were nothing but water. You looked up trying to drag yourself out to see your friends when you saw them carry your body out of the mud on a gurney.

You could never leave the forest but as the river flowed throughout you could visit all the residence inside.

If you enjoyed this story don’t forget to Like | Reblog so others can enjoy it too.

[avatarmerida]

Pros and Cons

Set between the movie and the start of Future because you can’t convince me these kids weren’t dating the whole time and we deserve to see more schmaltz from Steven. Wrote this on mobile, so I’ll fix all spelling and formatting things later. Enjoy!

——————————————————————

“Connie, Steven is here!” Called Dr. Maheswaran to her daughter, who hardly needed to be told since she was already bolting down the stairs at full speed.

“Bye mom!” Called the girl as she rushed passed her out the door.

“Be back by 10!” Her mother called after in a stern voice, though small smile found its way onto her face as she slowly closed the door, happy to see Connie so happy.

“Hey Connie!” Exclaimed Steven, grinning ear to ear once she entered his sight.

“Steven!” She sang as she ran to him, leaping to tackle him with a big hug. Steven returned the embrace and the pair laughed. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever!”

It had only been a few days. “I got you something,” he said, presenting a bouquet of flowers to her. A collection a vivid blue flowers, tied together with a matching bow, everything carefully selected and presented to be picture perfect.

“Aw Steven!” She swooned, taking the flowers from him and bringing them to her nose, the smell light and sweet. “Oh, they’re so beautiful! Thank you.”

She leaned forward and placed a quick kiss on his cheek before hopping in the passenger seat. Steven blushed wildly, and ran behind the car to his seat so Connie wouldn’t see. She had been doing that a lot more lately, not that he minded. It was often enough that it didn’t catch him totally off guard but rare enough that he still wasn’t quite used to it. Pro.

He jumped in the driver’s seat and snuck a quick look at her as she continued to fawn over the flowers. She was wearing her favorite blue dress and Steven couldn’t help but thank she looked like an angel. She carefully undid the ribbon from the bouquet and used it to tie up her hair and the simple act made Steven’s heart spin. Pro.

Truthfully, that feeling was nothing new. Connie had always made him feel this way, but lately there was something different. Every time she touched him he felt light headed. He suddenly noticed they touched so much. She’d rest her head on his shoulder when they watched movies together or they’d hold hands when they took walks, but now he felt himself hesitate to do the things that were once so second nature. Yet somehow, that made him want to do then even more. Pro.

“Um Steven?” Asked Connie and his daze broke, and he realized he had been staring at her in silence.

“Oh uh, right,” he laughed awkwardly, starting the car. Connie didn’t seem to notice his nerves and started playing with the radio as they began to make their way to Beach City.

“- oh it was so hard not stopping the instructor every five minutes,” said Connie, finishing her story. “I mean, he was only focused on this solar system, he wouldn’t even listen when I tried describing Homeworld! Sure, Jupiter is cool but I think a society of gems is much cooler.”

“I think have to agree,” laughed Steven. “But other than that, space camp was fun?”

“Of course,” she said. “I wish I could’ve spent more time with you though. Next time you should come, you could probably teach the class!”

“I’ll think about it,” he sighed, fighting the urge to stare at her again, knowing he had to keep his eyes on the road. She continued talking about space camp, though most of it he had already heard on the phone, but he just enjoyed hearing her voice. Pro.

He suddenly longed for the day when they would sit on the beach and she’d read aloud to him, nothing else to do and not a care in the world. Just the two of them. But of course they both had other responsibilities now, but that only made Steven think of the future more. He was never shy when it came to telling Connie how much she meant to him, but tonight he wanted to add something more. In his jacket pocket he had a list or pros and cons which confirmed his decision to ask (even though the pros side was mostly just tiny things her loved about Connie). His dad said it was ‘taking the next step’ and Steven kind of agreed. It did feel like a big step but at the same time, a natural one. But if marathoning Camp Pining Hearts with Peridot has taught him anything, it was that big feelings required a big gesture.

Finally, they reached Temple. Steven made sure his parking job was perfect (parallel parking even though it wasn’t necessary but Connie found it impressive) and then frantically ran around the side to open Connie’s door for her.

“After you, my lady,” he said in a mock fancy tone, offering her his arm.

“Why thank you, my lord,” she responded in the same tone, taking it and the two made their way down the beach “And where shall we be dining tonight?”

“Why, only the finest eating establishment of course,” He said and then ran ahead to present the setting to her. “Ta-da!”

“Steven...” murmured Connie with wide eyes as she took in his creation. He had brought out a simple folding table and with a long tablecloth and a few lanterns, he had transformed the beach into something from a fairy tale. Around the table, four poles displayed twinkling lights and glowing bracelets, like the one that had brought them together. It was like their own personal fallen star, a tiny spotlight on a calm night. Lion sat close by, fast asleep which somehow just added to the lore.

“Oh wow this is amazing,” she whispered as she marveled at the details. “This must’ve taken you all day!”

It had. “Oh, it’s no big deal,” he blushed, pulling out her chair. She sat down and continued to look astound, utterly enchanted.

“But wait! It get better!” He said as he excitedly leaned over the table to present the pizza box the gems had set out minutes before they arrived. Steven said they couldn’t watch but they wanted to be knocked anyway they could. “Ta-da!”

“Pizza, very classy,” said Connie with her fancy tone, though pizza was kind of a let down after the lighting display.

“Notice anything weird about the cheese?”

“What do you-?” Connie questioned as she looked closer, and sure enough she did. She reached inside and hidden amidst the cheese was a yellow envelope. “Steven, what is this?” She laughed.

“Why don’t you open it and find out?” He beamed.

She did and once she did her face lit up lighter than the candles on the table. She looked up at him with utter disbelief. “These aren’t-.”

He nodded, trying to keep his cool. “They are!”

“Tickets to the new Unfamiliar Familiar Movie?” She said still in shook as she read them small pieces of paper. “They sold out weeks ago! How did you get these?”

“I was the first in line to get them,” he said as if it were no big deal and he hadn’t camped outside the theater for hours. Then he admitted somewhat sheepishly. “I didn’t realize you could buy tickets online, but I knew how much it meant to you so I-.”

“Aw, you’re the best!” As she ran around the table to wrap him in a tight hug.

“Nah, you’re the best,” he blushed, luckily it was dark enough that Connie probably couldn’t see. “Lion can take us after we eat. Have any theories about how this one will be different than the books?”

“Ugh, so many!” She said as she sat back down. The two sat and ate their pizza as Connie discussed her theories. Steven, of course, was hoping they’d make sure the wedding cake was as accurate as possible which made Connie laugh which made his heart jump. Pro.

“Wow Steven, I just can’t get over how great this is,” sighed Connie, placing one of her hands on his.

“Well, you’re worth it,” he said, resting his chin on his other hand as he looked at her. “I really wanted to make sure tonight was special.”

“Why?”

“Why? Uh...” this wasn’t supposed to be when he asked, he had it mapped out so perfectly. “Because, well, with school starting back up soon you’ll be so busy studying and I just wanted to make sure that any time we spend together is extra special.”

Now it was Connie’s turn to blush. She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and gave him a sweet smile. “Time with my jam bud is always special,” she said, tilting her head. “Wow, just wait until I tell the girls from camp about this. I told them all about you and Beach City and they all kept telling me how jealous they were of my magical boyfriend. If they saw this they’d-.”

His heart leapt at the word. “B-boyfriend?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, they would sometimes call you my boyfriend,” she said as her blush got bigger, trying to make the word seem like less of a big deal. “It was just teasing, no big deal. Nothing, I mean I didn’t-.”

“Did you correct them?” He asked sheepishly, hoping for a certain answer.

“Um, at first,” she admitted, averting her eyes from his. “But most of the time they called you ‘Steven’ so I didn’t need to to. I mean, it didn’t bother me when they called you my boyfriend. I mean, when you break down the components of the word-.”

“Connie it’s fine!” He cut her off with a laugh. “It doesn’t bother me.”

“Are you sure?”

“No, I mean actually...” he began to reach under the table to where the final part of the plan was carefully hidden: a box of donuts from The Big Donut in Connie’s favorite flavor with a customized design, one read “By My” and the other “Girlfriend?” Steven knew it was cliche and cheesy but Sadie assured him it was really adorable. “There’s actually something I wanted to tell you... or ask you? Okay, wait, there are two things-.”

“Steven do you feel that?”

“Well, even since-.”

“Steven, I think it’s starting to rain...”

“What? No, Garnet said...”

But sure enough, a roll of thunder cut him off and the rain came shortly after in buckets. Con.

“Oh no, all your work,” said Connie frantically, not worried about herself getting wet. “Steven, the lanterns!”

“It’s okay,” he insisted conjuring a shield to protect them from the rain. “Let’s just grab the tickets and Lion can teleport us to the theater.”

“Okay,” said Connie, reaching down to grab the, only to find they weren’t where she thought she had left them. “Wait, where are they?”

“They should be right by the centerpiece,” answered Steven as the rain came down harder. “Are they by-.” his eyes darted between the empty space on the table and Lion at the table’s edge and suddenly he realized what had happened.  He dropped the shield and went to pry open Lion’s mouth. “NO!”

“What?”

“He ate them!” he exclaimed not finding anything between his teeth, confirming his fear.

“Oh no!” said Connie, though it was hard to see with the rain coming down so hard. “Well, do you still have the receipt? Maybe we can try-.”

Con. Somehow knowing he was no longer needed, Lion turned and ran away from the pair. “No, wait!” pleaded Steven, looking back and forth between where Lion was running to, Connie was standing in the rain, and then he remembered the donuts getting soggy. This was no how this evening was supposed to go at all. Steven’s mind raced for a way to fix it but nothing came to mind, everything started getting blurry but he needed to focus on Connie. He needed to-

“Connie, I’m sorry!” he exclaimed, rushing over to her and suddenly the rain was o longer dousing them. He looked up, confused, and saw that he had summoned a bubble without realizing it. Luckily they were safe from the rain now, but still soaking wet. “Ugh, Connie I’m so sorry.” he said again.

“Why? Because it rained?” she laughed, wringing her hair out. “Steven, you can’t blame yourself for the weather.”

“No, I’m sorry for this whole night; it was a disaster,” he admitted as he sat down, defeated. “I was just really nervous and excited and I wanted everything to be perfect.”

Con.

“As long as we’re together, it is,” she insisted, sitting beside him. “Remember the last time we were trapped in a bubble? We still had fun. We can still have fun now. Look, the rain’s starting to let up.”

Steven turned and saw she was right, it was no longer down pouring and had downgraded to a faint drizzle. Pro.

“Oh, the beach is so pretty at night,” Connie whispered as the moon appeared from behind the clouds, reflecting majestically on the water.

“Yeah, it is,” Steven agreed, though he wasn’t looking at the moon. “Hold on, I have an idea.” He stood up and summoned a great amount of foucused, jumped up and hit the top of the bubble. He was stuck only a moment but soon the bubble rose with him and the pair were floating up into the sky. The hovered toward the water until the had a fantastic view of the beach and the whole town.

“Wow,” said Connie breathlessly, taking in the view. “Steven this is amazing!”

He shrugged and sat back down beside her. “I mean, I guess. I just wish I hadn’t left the snacks on the beach.”

“The candles might be helpful too,” added Connie with a shiver. “For an airtight bubble, it’s pretty chilly in here.”

Con.

Of course she’s cold, Steven thought, she’s still wet from the rain! “Here,” he said as he removed his jacket and placed it around her shoulders. “Better?”

She nodded, her eyes wide at the noble gesture she had seen countless times in books and movies. He did it without hesitation or flair and her own heart spun. He sighed as he looked to the ground, still upset that things hadn’t gone according to plan. But as far as Connie was concerned, this was better than anything he could’ve planned. She couldn’t help but smile as this moments brought back memories, Steven planning things as best he could only for some magical element to derail things. Every moment, no matter how small, was an adventure. Even just sitting there taking in the view, that was something only Steven could deliver. Pro.

She rested her head on his shoulder, half to reassure him that she was fine being there and half because it was such a natural action at this point. He relaxed a little and allowed his head to rest on hers as he truly started to appreciate the view. Pro. Pro. Pro.

“It’s not as good as the movies, but I guess it’s okay,” said Steven with a laugh, his positive attitude returning.

“Steven, it’s okay,” Connie laughed gently, looking up at him. “Really, it is. We can see the movie another time, or rent it later on. And Lion’s eaten worse things than paper, he’ll be okay.”

“Ugh! Of course he ate the tickets! They were covered in cheese,” Steven sulked at the memory, burying his face in his hands. “Can’t say I blame him.”

Connie laughed. “But... why did you put them in the pizza?” She asked with a raise of her eyebrow.

“I thought it’d be... romantic,” he admitted, hiding his face in defeat.

“‘Romantic?’” Connie repeated, half surprised and half flustered at the mention of the word.

“Pretty silly right?”

“No, not at all,” she said with a small chuckle. “It... it was kind of romantic.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “But um, why did you want it to be romantic?”

“Well I was going to ask you... I mean, I was going to tell you...” he turned and saw how close her face was to his, her large eyes reflected the moonlight and the sight made his ears hot and his throat tight. He cleared his throat, trying to summon some courage and took a long, deep breath in and closed his eyes. “ConnieIwaswonderingifyoumaybewantedtobemygirlfrienditsokayifyousayno.” He said as fast as he could.

“What?” Asked a bewildered Connie. Before any further explanation could be offered, the bubble popped and the two found themselves hurting towards the ground. Steven quickly grabbed Connie’s hand and pulled her close as he controlled their descent and had them land safely.

Safe on the beach, the pair stood in a loose embrace as Steven searched his mind for what to say next. He didn’t know if should ask again, he wasn’t even sure Connie had heard him the first time. Or maybe she had? And she was looking for a way to let him down gently? Maybe she-.

“Lion, stop!” He suddenly heard her laugh as he snapped back from his dreamlike state. He looked and saw the creature licking Connie’s face, happy to see her. Steven smiled and reached out to pet him.

“Hey there buddy,” he laughed. “Where did you go? Usually you’re in bed by- oh no! Connie! What time is it?”

She pulled her phone from her pocket and gasped at what she saw. “It’s 9:57!”

“Your curfew!” Exclaimed Steven grabbing her hand. Con. “C’mon, we gotta get you home!” The pair hopped onto Lion’s back who knew exactly where to take them. They traveled through the portal and landed outside Connie’s house and instantly jumped off and headed to her front door, both panting from the mission’s urgency.

“We made it!” Breathed Steven victoriously.

“Yeah,” agreed Connie. “That was close.”

The two stood on the porch in silence for a moment, a very familar feeling in the air. “Steven, I-,” Connie began, only to once again be interrupted. This time by the opening of the door.

“9:59,” said Connie’s mom, looking at her watch. “Just in time, can’t tell if you’re pushing it or punctual. Either way, you’ve got tennis tomorrow so upstairs young lady.”

“Okay mom,” said Connie, entering the house. She offered Steven a small wave and her mother closed the store.

“Have a good night, Steven,” said Dr. Maheswaran as she gently closed the door, her voice stern but caring. “See you soon.”

“See ya soon,” Steven sighed as he looked at the closed door. He was worried he had blown his chance or if this was a sign they weren’t mean to be. So nothing changes, he thought as he walked back to Lion, so what? So we’re still friends, still jam buds, we can still be Stevonnie. She’s still in my life, that’s what matters. These were all true, but his heart still felt a twinge defeat and long list of cons.

Then, he felt his phone vibrate and the quiet air was filled with Connie’s ringtone. He couldn’t help but feel nervous as he answered the phone.

“Hello?”

“You forgot your jacket,” said Connie in a whisper.

“Where-?” He turned around and say Connie at her bedroom window, waving it like a pink flag.

“It’s fine, you can keep it for now,”

“Steven Cutiepie Quartz Universe, I gave you this jacket are you trying to regift it?” She said in a faux stern voice. “That’s very rude. I insist you come retrieve it right this instant.”

“Um, I’m pretty sure your mom is very strict about her 10 o’clock curfew, no exceptions.”

“You don’t need to go through the house, you have floating powers, silly.”

He couldn’t argue with that, so he quietly made his way to the side of the house and floated up to her open window.

“Pickup for ‘Universe’” he said, placing his elbow on the window ledge, casually. Connie laughed.

“Here’s your order sir,” she said handing him the folded jacket, but when he went to take it from her she didn’t let go. He looked up at her, expecting another joke but instead he found her face inches from his, filled with the same gentle moonlight from before.

“Yes,” was all she said.

“Y-yes?”

“Yes,” she repeated, and pulled the jacket back toward her and thereby also pulled Steven. As he went forward, she moved her face in front of his and their lips met in a kiss. At first, Steven was surprised but Connie was unmoving until he finally accepted it was real and placed his hands on her back to steady himself and hold her. He felt her smile as she moved one of her hands behind his head, the other still held the jacket, and brought him closer.

He felt like he was melting and freezing at the same time and he knew his entire face must be blushing but he didn’t care. He swore they were like this for hours but at the same time it was like no time had passed at all, like they were outside the world. When they finally parted, it was only because Steven found his body was floating upward. Connie giggled and reached up to pull him back to the window, giggling more when she saw the large, goofy grin he wore.

She attempted to stifle herself, worried her mother would hear, but her nerves combined with her giddiness made it hard. Steven was deliver to see she was also blushing and he joined her laughter.

“Don’t go floating away,” whispered Connie as she made sure he was holding on to the windowsill.

“I’ll try,” he said, feeling both shy and bold somehow. He wanted to stay right there and just stare at her, but he knew that was a pipe dream. He slipped his arms into his jacket. “I, uh, should probably get going.”

“I guess,” sighed Connie, though neither of them moved. “Text me when you get home?”

“Sure thing,” said Steven as he prepared to lower himself. Before he did, he lungded forward and gave Connie one more surprise kiss on her cheek, quick and light but it brought her blush back nevertheless. He used the ledge to kick himself backward and floated back to Lion. “I’ll text my girlfriend as soon as I get home.” He said, cherishing the word as he gave her finger guns.

“And I’ll be waiting for my boyfriend to text me,” Connie whispered back matching his giddy tone, watching him from the window. He landed safely on the ground and waved to her until Lion lifted him onto his back and teleported him home.

Once back on the beach, Lion lowered the lovesick teen to the ground and Steven later in the sand and marveled at the moon for a moment. He sighed, content, and went to get his phone from his pocket to text Connie. When he did, a piece of paper came out with it: his pros and cons list. He opened it up and saw that now the cons sign had a giant X through it and the pros signs was circled several times. Even though it was just Xs and Os, he recognized Connie’s handwriting anywhere.

[baevillier]

Adventures In Babysitting | Tyson Jost

Summary: Tyson mentions how one day he wants to start a family which frightens Y/N. But maybe having to babysit a kid together will change her mind

Starting a family had always been on the list of things that Tyson Jost wished to achieve in his life, among that list were things such as: getting drafted, making his first goal, taking shots in Vegas when he was 21, losing his virginity and countless others. While he was starting to make a rather large dent on his bucket list, somethings would have to wait, considering they took longer than others.

When Tyson had first met Y/N, he thought it was almost too good to be true, His teammate and friend JT had dragged him to a wedding as his plus one and ditched him shortly after. It wasn’t on purpose, Tyson didn’t know the bride or the groom’s family and J.T did- he had to go make his rounds of mingling with his friends.

That lead Tyson to walk up to the open bar and get himself a drink, a girl slightly shorter than him waiting in the line in front of him. She was alone which the avalanche player thought was odd, a girl as pretty as herself was surely there with a date right? Not exactly having anything to lose, he decided to try and engage in a conversation with her. “I Really like your dress…” he started shakily, he was a little nervous considering he didn’t know her at all.

Turning around on her heels, the woman looked up at him and smiled gratefully. “Thank you- I like you’re suit, you look very nice.” She complimented him in return, in her hands there was a soft brown coloured beer bottle that matched the one Tyson was holding. Raising his bottle, he took a step closer.

“Mind if I buy you a drink? It looks like were both here alone and I wouldn’t mind the company.” While his request was polite and sudden, he made sure to not seem to eager- he didn’t want to make the girl uncomfortable at all.

One drink became two and by the end of the night- the pair had to be cut off. They sat at Tyson’s table for hours, talking about everything and anything- it was rather nice to see two individuals who had come to a wedding alone, find someone that they wanted to spend their time with. The night didn’t end with Tyson getting laid, but they had shared a cab on their way home- the man making sure he walked Y/N to her door to ensure she was safe.

Exchanging numbers, Tyson had to keep himself from texting right away- He really liked the way the night turned out. There was electricity between the two that just seemed to flow effortlessly.

Fast forward 6 months, the two of them had been dating for quite a while. Most nights were spent at one of their apartments just having dinner or watching Netflix and spending time together, but as Friday night rolled in and Y/N’s co-worker had a family emergency, the plans for Netflix and chill had been thwarted by a four year-old boy whom Y/N now had to babysit.

As she bounced the little boy named Ethan, on her hip- Y/N called Tyson who was just getting out of the gym. “Hey babe- I think were going to have to cancel our plans for tonight… Arleen from work had a family emergency and asked me to watch her son for the night. Rain check?” She sounded hopeful as she finished explaining the situation.

With the little boy tangling his fingers in her hair, Y/N winched- she had never been great with kids and while she always wanted some nieces and nephews of her own one day- she was still on the fence wether or not she wanted her own kids. Hearing him chuckle on the other line, Y/N could practically picture him smiling.

“Its okay- Why don’t I come over and help you out? We can still make dinner and then once the little kid goes to sleep we can have some alone time.” He reassured her. It was genuinely a good idea, Tyson was such a family guy and he was so good with kids that Y/N was convinced the night would go smoother with him there.

She grabbed a toy from the bag Arleen had left and handed it to Ethan as she sat him on the couch. “Yes please- I honestly don’t know what im going to do with a toddler running through my apartment.” She laughed anxiously, running her fingers through her hair- she looked around her home which had already been torn apart.

Before arleen had dropped of Ethan, Y/N had ran through the apartment baby-proofing everything and doing her best to clean up anything that could be considered dangerous. But the woman quickly learned that Babies had a habit of making a mess no matter how hard you tried to prevent it.

Luckily, It wasn’t long before Tyson arrived- a bag of takeout in one hand and his overnight bag in the other, he knocked on the door and walked in once Y/N had unlocked it- his eyes widening at the mess before him, his girlfriend stared up at him sheepishly and he felt his heart twist- she looked overwhelmed and relieved to see him.

Setting his things down, he noticed the little tike sitting on the couch, chewing a plastic toy- he was quite adorable, messy blonde hair and bright blue eyes- he was wearing a pair of pyjamas that had dinosaurs on it and tiny striped socks. “You doing okay?” Tyson asked softly as he returned his attention to his girl.

She looked up at him and blew out a huff of air. “Im Surviving.” She answered him- taking the food and putting it in the kitchen, it wasn’t long before Ethan had climbed off of the couch and padded towards Y/N- he put his arms in the arm and whined, wanting to be picked up for the 8th time that evening.

Tyson couldn’t help but giggle, his heart swarmed with a sense of pride and love and he started to imagine having mini versions of him and Y/N running around- as if Ethan was their own. “You Know thats a good look on you.”he sat across from her at the kitchen table as they got dinner dished out.

Rolling her eyes and letting out a humourless laugh, Y/N nodded. “Yeah- Momma Y/N- thats me.” She spoke sarcastically. There was no denying that Ethan was an adorable kid, and Tyson would be an amazing dad given the chance, In Y/N’s opinion she was more so worried about being a good mom, and all the pain and torture that came with being pregnant. It was fear more than anything.

Since they had been together for a while, Tyson was really starting to think about bringing up the topic of family to Y/N- he already knew that he wanted kids, maybe even two or three- but he wasn’t sure where his girlfriend stood. It was obvious that she was tense around children, but she got along great with her little cousins- so he was thinking it was more so her being uncomfortable around babies.

Y/N had given Tyson the liberty of feeding Ethan while she washed up a bit and ate her dinner- she watched across the table as Ethan bounced on the hockey player’s lap- happily munching on the food Arleen had pre-packed for him. Seeing her boyfriend with kids always made Y/N happy, he looked so calm and excited- and that alone was adorable.

“I want one.” Tyson mumbled, he looked down at Ethan and played with his hands- his lips stretching into a smile as he tickled the boys sides. Holding the toddler firmly to ensure he wouldn’t fall of his lap, he looked up hoping to gauge Y/N’s reaction.

The girl’s face was pale, her eyes wide and lips parted- to say she was shocked was an understatement. “With me?” She asked him to clarify. Seeing Tyson nod, Y/N felt like she was going to get sick. “Tyson… I don’t know.” She admitted, watching his smile drop- she felt like a villain who had just ruined his life.

Praying to god, she was hoping that this wouldn’t come between their relationship and cause them to split-up. “You Don’t want kids with me?” Tyson asked, he felt his stomach drop and was hoping that he had just heard Y/N wrong.

As the girl shook her head, she could feel her palms growing sweaty from nerves. “Its not that I don’t want kids with you… I just- I don’t know if I want them at all.” She confessed. Having to admit that to Tyson was gut-wrenching, she knew how much he wanted a family and the fact that she was thinking of denying him that with her was scary.

Tyson didn’t say anything for a while. Just pressing his lips into a thin line and nodding as he returned his attention to Ethan- once they had finished dinner, he looked at the time and dictated that it was time to get the young tike to bed. Arleen had given Y/N a foldable baby crib which was set up in the guest room.

Sitting on the couch and biting her nails anxiously, Y/N’s eyes shot up as Tyson walked in- “Ethans asleep, it wasn’t hard.. he’s tired.” He told her, she could sense the distance in his voice and as he sat down on the opposite end of the couch- she pouted.

“I don’t understand how you didn’t tell me that you don’t want kids before.” He looked at her with a defeated gaze- Tyson Loved Y/N more than anything, but family was such a big part of his life, he wanted kids and he wanted everything that came with that. He wanted to be a father- and a good one at that, making up for the absence of his own.

He had a point, Y/N felt as though she should’ve mentioned it before- at least before they had been dating for six months, maybe then he could’ve run away from her before finding himself in too deep. “I don’t know Tyson- Thats what its down to. I’m caught between wanting them or not.” She turned towards him.

He took the information in and listened to her explain her concerns, all of which were genuine and with good reason- “I don’t think that I would be a good mother ty… I’m terrible with kids and I’m not motherly at all.” She frowned, watching him shake his head and rub his fingers through his hair she could sense that he was getting tired with this conversation.

“Do you think that you’ll ever change your mind?” He asked looking at her as if he was begging. To seem him look so hopeless tore Y/N’s heart apart. She sighed and looked at her hands which were clasped in front of her. “I don’t know.” She answered him.

Tyson stood up after that, calling it a night and heading to the girl’s bedroom to get ready for bed- when Y/N joined him, they barely touched at all- backs facing each other as they stayed to their sides of the bed- a giant gap between them. The thought of starting a family kept the girl up all night. Was she willing to lose Tyson over something like this?

The next morning, a loud crash from the kitchen startled Y/N awake. Hushed whispers carried through the hall to the bedroom and she immediately thought of Ethan- not bothering to check wether Tyson was still asleep or not, the girl bounded from the bed and took off for the guest bedroom- not seeing Ethan, her stomach churned- she had suddenly become quite protective of the boy and wanted to make sure he was safe.

Continuing down the hall, she rounded the corner and stopped at the kitchen- the sight in front of her causing her eyes to widen. Sitting on the kitchen counter covered in pancake batter was Ethan- his blonde hair having pieces of batter dried to the ends as Tyson stood across from him- not in a much better state.

“Pancakes!!’ The boy giggled, cheering quite loudly for it only being 8:00am. Tyson looked over sheepishly and held up a rubbed spatula. “I thought I could make breakfast- but then Ethan woke up and uh… You can see what happened next.” He was expecting the girl to be mad- but as a smile broke out against the girl’s face, she couldn’t help but laugh.

Walking over, she picked Ethan up and bounced him on her hip. “Gosh look at you! You’re mom is gonna kill me!” She laughed happily. Deciding that it wouldn’t be terrible to have a little fun, she reached into the bowl of batter and plopped some against Ethan’s nose. The boy instantly burst into a fit of giggles and pressing his messy hands against Y/Ns cheek- a tiny pancake batter handprint appearing on her face.

Tyson laughed hysterically and leaned against the counter- he closed his eyes for just a moment, giving Y/N the chance to grab a handful of batter and throw it at him. As he became covered in the breakfast mix- he looked at her with a playful glare. “Oh so you wanna play that way now?” He threatened.

Breaking out into a full on food fight,  Y/N set Ethan on the floor and they all started goofing off- Tyson slipped and fell onto his back as they ran around the kitchen- the weals and counters becoming covered in maple syrup and pancake mix. getting up and quickly chasing after y/n- Tyson’s front was covered in mess, he caught the girl and picked her up- smushing her to his body and letting the batter get all over her.

Setting her on the floor, he saw that she had some batter on her lips- leaning down, he pressed his mouth to hers and kissed her deeply, the two of them looking like a total mess. Ethan ran towards them and laughed cutely- posting at them and squealing with joy as Y/N swooped him up.

Cleaning up the kitchen was quite the task, but once the apartment looked like a bomb hadn’t gone off and all three of them were showered in fresh clothes, Y/N was at ease- Arleen had picked up Ethan shortly after they finished cleaning and the apartment was quiet.

As Tyson and Y/N laid cuddled against the couch, he pressed a kiss to her hair- “I’m sorry for being distant last night… I think I was just disappointed that we wouldn’t have kids.” He apologized to the girl. He ran his hands up her side as she rested her head on his chest.

Letting out a soft hum, she shrugged. “I think we’ll have kids one day…’’ she mumbled. Looking up at him and matching his grin, she crawled onto his lap and kissed his lips. “It won’t be for a while cause were both young… But I’m more open to the idea now…” she giggled, thinking of their adventurous morning with Ethan.

Tyson wrapped his arms around her tightly and kissed her feverishly, he was beyond happy to hear her say that. Pressing her down into the couch, he peppered kisses all over her face and hummed.

Raising his brow with a tiny smirk, the man chuckled. “Can we still practice in the meantime?”

[lefaystrent]

Five Times

Fandom: Thomas Sanders, Sanders Sides

Pairings: platonic Analogical, mentions of prinxiety

Summary: There were five times that Virgil’s path crossed with Logan Sanders. Each time memorable, each time helping to shape Virgil into the kind of person he wants to be.

AO3 Link

There were five times that Virgil’s path crossed with Logan Sanders.

The first memorable moment had been in first grade, back when he’d had a different name and different pronouns. Logan had been an oddball of a child. He was the new kid in class, his family moving over from across the sea, and instead of that winning him ‘cool’ points, most of his classmates thought his English accent was funny and something to be mocked. None of the others really wanted to play with him, not that it seemed to affect him either way. Similarly, nobody wanted to play with Virgil, or Angel as he’d been called then. But that was because she was shy and hardly spoke a word, therefore she was boring.

One day during class, they were all coloring pictures. Angel didn’t understand why, but Logan walked up to her desk to inspect her drawing. She didn’t have anything against the boy. She never joined in with the other kids when they called him stupid names. But she never intervened either, and Angel wondered briefly if Logan was upset about that and wanted to tear up her picture in revenge.

Blue eyes gauged the paper in a serious manner, and it reminded Angel of when her dad was talking about adult stuff to other adults. Logan had that older look about him, despite his scrawny size.

At length, Logan set down a crayon on her desk. “Here. Purple’s your color.”

Then he walked away with no explanation.

They never spoke to each other for years after that, though Angel would always remember it as a curious thing. The next time their paths crossed was the summer before ninth grade.

Angel had always felt out of place, whether it was at school or with her personality and body. It was a time when she still didn’t know who she was, much less what to do about it. And then she met her best friend, a girl named Jeanne. She was one of the popular girls and had seen how timid Angel was and took her under her wing some time ago. She was seen as the all-around ‘nice’ girl who everyone liked, and Angel was proud to claim that they were best friends.

In the middle of June that summer, Jeanne had a party at her house. Problem was, her parents weren’t home.

“I thought you said Valerie and Dahlia were gonna be here,” Angel whispered to her shortly after arriving.

“They are,” Jeanne laughed. “There’s just a few more people here too.”

A few more turned out to be over twenty teenagers, many of them who Angel knew but hardly spoke to. Jeanne’s family had a beautiful large house, the kind that everyone recognized and all the kids talked about having something similar when they grew up. It was able to fit all the guests, but it was still crowded and made Angel nervous. She had told her dad that she was only hanging out with a few of her girl friends. If he found out about this . . .

Jeanne tried to convince her to lighten up, to get excited. All Angel felt was resigned. She couldn’t leave because then Jeanne would think she was lame. It didn’t stop her from wishing she was home though, especially when the longer the party went on, the more Angel realized that Jeanne’s parents didn’t even know that the party was happening.

There was loud music and games, and at some point Jeanne got some of her parent’s alcohol out. Everyone wanted to try some and pretend to be adults, and the one time Angel attempted to whisper to Jeanne about them being underage, she brushed her off.

“We’re about to be high schoolers. We should start acting like it.”

If this was what it meant to be a high schooler, Angel wanted to stay in junior high forever. And yet, there was a part of her that questioned if she was being too sensitive. Jeanne was just helping her overcome her own shy, boringness. And Angel didn’t want to be shy and boring for forever.

So that’s how Angel found herself playing a game of spin the bottle. When the bottle landed on someone, the two chosen players went to the closet to have seven minutes in Heaven, apparently.

What surprised Angel was not so much her own willingness to participate in such a game. That paled in comparison to seeing Logan Sanders of all people there. He didn’t look like the kind of guy who went to parties. He was still the weird kid, and Angel wasn’t sure how many friends he actually had, but there were more people amused by him now.

“What I’m saying is that everyone has their own perspective of what Heaven is. It’s different for everyone.”

“What does that even mean, Logan?”

“It means that someone’s Heaven could consist entirely of jelly. What if I wanted seven minutes in jelly Heaven?”

Everyone in the circle cracked up. The only people who weren’t laughing were Logan and Angel. Angel was merely watching. Meanwhile, Logan looked strangely invested.

“Whatever, Logan,” someone said, a guy from their baseball team. “Just spin the bottle.”

Logan gave up his debate and spun the bottle. When it landed, there were whoops and hollers, and the next thing Angel knew, she was in a dark closet with Logan Sanders.

“It’s dark in here,” Logan said needlessly.

“That it is,” Angel agreed. She could hear the party go on outside their little space. Barely a foot in front of her stood Logan, nearly a head taller than her. Not that she could see him. She could certainly feel his presence and hear his breath, and her heart should be racing at the thought of what they were supposed to do, so why did she feel so calm?

“Do you like jelly?” he asked.

“Uh . . . yeah. I like it on toast.”

“So a heaven filled with jelly wouldn’t be too much to ask, would it?”

“I don’t have any jelly on me.”

“That’s okay, I forgive you,” Logan said, and she couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.

Maybe this was why she felt calm. The people outside that door were expecting them to do obscene things like regular teens would, but Logan had never been a regular teen.

They ended up sitting on the floor squished together. They talked about random things like jelly heaven, and Angel never questioned it. Likewise, Logan appeared to appreciate her never questioning the topics and allowing the conversation to flow unimpeded. It was surprisingly easy to talk to Logan once you accepted his odd trains of thought.

Inevitably, Angel asked why Logan had come to the party.

“You’re friends with Jeanne,” he stated, and for a second she thought he meant that Angel had something to do with him being there.

“Yeah?”

“You know her cousin, Roman.”

“Yeah.”

“He’s friends with my brothers. Sort of.”

“Sort of?”

“It’s complicated. Baguettes aren’t really that useful in a sword fight.”

“I see,” she said, though she really didn’t.    

Angel would never get to hear the full explanation. She’d later assume that Roman had something to do with Logan being at the party that day, but as it was at that moment, Jeanne’s parents returned home early.

And boy were they pissed. They killed the music and Logan and Angel could hear Jeanne’s mother’s voice, shrill with anger, chewing her out. All the kids were kicked out, and Angel and Logan sat quietly wondering if the seven-minutes-rule still applied or if they could leave. They sat there awkwardly until the door opened. It was Jeanne’s dad and they nearly gave him a heart attack.

Jeanne’s parents knew Angel, and even though she hadn’t even been doing anything with Logan, they still called her dad and told him everything. After that, Angel was grounded and wasn’t allowed to hang out with Jeanne anymore.

High school came and with it came changes.

Angel became Virgil. Same anxious, confused mess true, but a mess that strived to feel more comfortable in its own skin.

Virgil made new friends. He stopped agonizing over how a girl was supposed to act and look. He allowed himself to enjoy the fact that guys were easier to connect with.

As for his best friend, he and Jeanne didn’t speak anymore. It wasn’t as big of a loss as Virgil first thought it would be. Virgil had admired Jeanne’s popularity and kindness for a long time, but Virgil deserved friends who wouldn’t force him out of his comfort zone, and Virgil felt all the more confident in his decision to stay away from Jeanne after seeing how fake she became in high school.

Years went by and Virgil didn’t see much of Logan Sanders. They were in different classes, and when the students weren’t in class, Virgil was hanging out with his friends. There was Patton, sweet and sometimes naïve and Virgil’s go-to person for when he felt overwhelmed. Then there was Roman and Dee, his gaming buddies. Emile was a chill guy and they mostly talked about tv shows of similar interest. Remy, Emile’s boyfriend, ran a ‘black magic’ club that Virgil was a part of, but they pretty much just played Dungeons & Dragons the whole time.

The third time Virgil had anything to do with Logan Sanders was during their Junior year. It was winter and apparently raining literal buckets, according to Logan.

“I guess it’s true when they say humans don’t look up enough. I should have looked up,” he said, plucking at his drenched shirt morosely.

Virgil had found him on his way to the gym for PE class. Logan had been sitting outside by himself on an out-of-the-way bench. Virgil almost didn’t stop but he’d seen the pinched look to Logan’s face and how he was sitting out in the cold in a wet t-shirt.

“You said Roman did this to you?” Virgil asked, confused. Why would Roman target Logan Sanders of all people? They never had anything to do with each other. Roman practically lived in the drama clubroom, and Logan stuck to quiz bowl type groups.

Logan shrugged. “Not on purpose. He’s in a prank war with Joan. You know Joan? Yeah, I tripped the bucket that was meant for them. My fault for not looking up.”

Virgil heaved a huge sigh. Now that sounded more like Roman. Idiot.

Speaking of idiots . . .

“Why are you just sitting out here then? You’ll freeze like this.”

“Probably for the best,” Logan said, nodding as if he’d always known it would come to this. “I didn’t have another shirt, and I can’t go to class like this. So I’ll just sit here.”

“Don’t be stupid. Come on, get up.”

“What?”

“I said get up,” Virgil ordered, waving his hands for the other to follow him. Realistically, he should have considered the fact that he and Logan weren’t friends and he was under no obligation to listen to him. He could have snapped at Virgil and would probably be justified, except the fact that he was literally freezing out here, but he didn’t even seem to register that fact.

“Why?” Logan asked. It didn’t sound like he opposed getting up, just that he wanted a good enough reason to. God, Virgil knew he was weird, but was he really this stupid too?

“Because you’ll freeze like this. Honestly, you could have asked a teacher or something for help.”

Logan glanced down at his shoes. He rubbed them in the dead grass back and forth. “I didn’t want to bother anybody.”

It occurred to Virgil then that Logan might not only be weird but socially anxious as well. Actually, that might explain why he was so weird or awkward in social situations. Maybe he had anxiety issues.

Virgil revaluated him, taking an extra minute to really look at Logan. Did he not have any friends he was comfortable enough with to seek help from? If that was the case, there was only one thing left to do.

“Here,” Virgil said, shrugging off his hoodie and offering it to him. Virgil had owned the thing for years, loving how it swallowed his figure with its bagginess, like a protective blanket. Virgil felt exposed without it on, but he couldn’t just walk away either. “You can go take your shirt off and put this on. If you zip it up, no one will notice you’re not wearing a shirt underneath.”

Logan blinked at the offered hoodie. He tilted his head slightly. “You want me to strip right here?”

If Virgil were more easily embarrassed, He would have blushed (because he didn’t doubt for a second that Logan was crazy enough to follow through on that). As it was, Virgil was more exasperated than anything. “No, I meant that you could take this to the bathroom and change.”

Logan nodded, accepting his explanation but not the hoodie. “I don’t want to touch it at the moment. I’m all sticky.”

“Uh . . . what?”

“I’m sticky.”

“Yeah, I heard that. I meant why?”

“Roman filled the bucket up with Kool-Aid. It was strawberry flavored.”

Who knew why it was important to Logan to specify the flavor, but that might explain the red tint to Logan’s skin. And here Virgil just thought it was the cold.

“Of course Roman filled it with Kool-Aid,” Virgil said, shaking his head. He gestured for Logan to follow him again. “Whatever. You can just go to the bathroom and wash off the best you can then before you put it on.”

Logan obeyed this time. Virgil stood outside the men’s bathroom while Logan cleaned himself up. Nobody stopped to question why Virgil was standing there in the hallway doing nothing while classes were in session. More than likely, the staff were mixed up in dealing with Roman and Joan and the mess of Kool-Aid. Virgil would bet money that Logan had walked off after getting the bucket dumped on him, otherwise a teacher wouldn’t have let his wet-self go sit outside in the cold. Or maybe he’d stayed long enough for the principal to show up and while the pranksters were getting chewed out, Logan slipped away to avoid the confrontation.

Virgil glanced at the closed bathroom door and checked the time on his phone.

At this rate, he’d be marked absent in PE.

He remained by the door, waiting for as long as it took.

After more time than what was probably needed, Logan came out looking far more dry and wearing Virgil’s hoodie. It was simple and black, not at all distinguishable as Virgil’s. That meant none of his friends would be able to tell he had leant it, though truthfully Virgil wasn’t ashamed of being associated with Logan. As far as Virgil knew, he was an okay guy.

“Thanks. This feels better,” Logan told him.

Virgil looked him over, spotted what was missing, and asked where he had put his shirt.

“Oh, that? I threw it in the trash.”

“But . . . that was your shirt.”

He shrugged. “It was wet and sticky and I didn’t want to carry it around. Besides, it’s not like it’s a family heirloom or anything. I can get another shirt.”

“Well, you’re not wrong.” But he wasn’t exactly right either.

He plucked at the dark material, looking vaguely unsure. “Want me to give you back your jacket before the end of school?”

Virgil waved him off. “Nah. I’m not gonna make you go home shirtless. Just get it back to me tomorrow.”

“Technically, I’m shirtless right now.”

“Technically, you know what I meant, so shut up.”

“Only technically,” Logan agreed. But he nodded and for the first time, Virgil saw a little smile light up his face.

Virgil looked around himself, figured this was where they parted ways, and said, “We should probably get to class.”

Logan looked around as if just noticing that education was going on around them. “We’ve already missed the first fifteen minutes of class. We might as well miss the rest.”

What kind of logic was that?

Virgil raised a brow. “Are you suggesting that we skip?”

“Not suggesting. Actively doing.”

Virgil snorted. “Alright. But if we just stay in the hallway, someone’s gonna notice.”

Logan considered for a moment, glancing down the hall. “Want to go to the band room? No one should be in there at this time.”

Virgil didn’t question how he knew this, nor did he feel uncomfortable at following Logan to some secluded place in the school. If he had survived seven minutes in heaven with him, Virgil would be fine here too.

“Lead the way.”

The next morning when Virgil arrived to first period, he found his hoodie neatly folded on his desk. In one of the pockets he found a doodle of a bee.

Curiously, the jacket’s material had a smoky aroma to it. Virgil didn’t recognize it as cigarettes. It was something cleaner and more appealing, not unlike incense or sage. Over the next few days, as the smell faded bit by bit and was replaced again with his own, Virgil wondered at the boy he had lent it to and thought many times to approach him. Virgil could use the excuse of returning his doodle, but he kept rethinking that plan. For one, he didn’t know if it was left intentionally or not. And for another . . . he’d grown rather fond of using it as a bookmark. He was hard-pressed to let it go now.

An opportunity never seemed to come, or so Virgil told himself, and the days turned into weeks and then some. Occasionally, he remembered their time skipping class together, the minutes spent talking about things that did and didn’t matter, as well as things they couldn’t understand at all. Virgil could recall the distinct feeling of what resonated between them, as if they were flowing down a river with no end in sight, but that was alright because the current was a gentle one.

It wouldn’t matter if his friends thought him strange for suddenly wanting to hang out with Logan Sanders. They probably would have gotten on with him too, in time.

But Logan never approached Virgil either. Virgil would think about that too sometimes, if the reasons that held Logan back were similar to his own. Because it’s just easier to say, “I’ll try tomorrow, definitely,” until it becomes a lie. And then, eventually, it becomes nothing at all, because there’s more to life and distractions are plentiful.

Virgil completed his high school education and kept on with school. He and his friends were accepted into the best college in the state and it was only natural that when they moved away from home, they all moved in together. They rented a three bedroom townhouse, with Virgil and Patton rooming together (because Dee’s sanity depended on having a safe space of his own and all of them needed a safe space from Roman). The four of them were incredibly different, having varying interests, areas of study, goals for the future, but they made it work.

For years, Virgil forgot about Logan Sanders. He had his college education, his friends, work, a few relationships here and there. The most surprising relationship was between him and Roman. It happened rather suddenly, one night of tension snapping and spanning into other nights. They were exhilarating, pleasurable, but neither knew what they really wanted outside of that and they were left in a limbo that didn’t specify what they were to each other.

And yeah, it made Virgil the fool for putting off confronting things, like he’d done many times just because it was easier. He let things be until he couldn’t run away from the consequences. It’s not like you can ignore life growing inside of you, and there’re only so many positive pregnancy tests you can get before denial can’t protect you anymore.

But Roman . . .

He wouldn’t accept it.

“We can’t be parents. Can’t you just, I don’t know, do something about it?”

This didn’t fit in with Roman’s plans, and it wasn’t as if they were really together, was it?

So Virgil did do something about it. He packed his stuff and went back home to his dad. The most humiliating part of it all was the look his dad gave Virgil. It would have been better if he’d given him the whole, “I knew this would happen,” argument. Instead, his dad simply supported him in his time of need, hugging him and telling him, “I’m here for you, kiddo.”

Virgil didn’t want that. He wanted a fight, to let out all of the pent-up frustration. He wanted to scream, because how could Roman suggest giving up their child, or worse, killing it? How dare he?

But more than that . . . how dare Virgil? How could he have been so careless?

And that’s how he came to be sitting at a bar in his hometown. An untouched margarita sat on the polished wood before him. Part of him hoped the bartender would sense he shouldn’t drink alcohol. Then he could yell at Virgil. Tell him what a disappointment he was. At least then he’d be listening to someone else say it rather than listen to the voice repeating it inside his own head. He wanted to guzzle the drink down, confirm what a horrible person he was by tainting what was inside of him.

“You look like you really don’t want to drink that,” a man said from the barstool beside him.

Virgil shook his head, peering down at the liquid. “No, I’m just . . . getting warmed up for it.”

“Like the artist who does warm-up sketches to put off the true painting?”

“Sure . . .”

“You know, sometimes the warm-ups turn out to be more beautiful than the original intention.”

Was he implying something here? Did someone finally sense that Virgil shouldn’t be here and was admonishing him? He had wanted that, but now it angered him.

Images of Roman’s face flashed in his mind, the strained look he wore when Virgil had gathered the courage to tell him. The gleam of disbelief in his eyes right before it was squashed by unrelenting rejection.

“I’m just twenty-one,” Roman had said, as if Virgil wasn’t too. They were both too young, too in-over-their-heads. But only one of them had the luxury of withdrawing, to not deal with it and favor childish simplicity instead. “Can’t you just, I don’t know, do something about it?”

As if it could be swept under the rug and forgotten.

And in this moment at the bar, just like he had back then with Roman, Virgil turned and asked coldly, “What do you mean?”

Blue eyes stared back at him, much sharper and calmer than Roman’s brown hues ever were.

The other shrugged. “Technically, I was only making an observation on art processes.”

Virgil blinked, his ire sizzling out as he stared hard at the lanky man sitting beside him. He felt like he was missing something important. “Technically?”

“Only technically,” he agreed, nodding, but it was only when he gave a small half-smile that Virgil recognized him.

“Logan?” he asked, not hiding his shock.

“Virgil,” he returned, greeting him naturally like they met up at the bar often.

Of all people, Logan Sanders had found him and was sitting beside him. He honestly hadn’t changed much in neither appearance nor personality. Did Logan think the same about him, or did he look different?

“What are you doing here?” Virgil asked.

Logan jutted a thumb over his shoulder. “My brothers. We come here occasionally.”

Virgil glanced behind them at a table towards the wall where similar looking men sat. All three heads at the table ducked as they found something else to stare at. It was odd, to remember that Logan had brothers but to have thought he would never meet them.

Then again, Virgil didn’t think he would meet Logan Sanders ever again.

“What are you doing here?” Logan repeated Virgil’s question.

He couldn’t help to be defensive. “Why do you want to know?”

Logan’s eyes narrowed minimally, a small sign to show that he’d noticed and was curious. “Fair is fair.”

He wasn’t wrong. He’d answered Virgil first. Wouldn’t he be an ass for refusing to answer him too?

Virgil wanted to be an ass tonight. He wanted to tell people to fuck off and leave him alone.

But this was Logan Sanders and Virgil still used his bee doodle as a bookmark to this day. Something about it all made it impossible to project his anger onto him. In the end, he felt put-out and sulky.

“I don’t know what I’m really doing here,” he admitted. His fingernail grazed lightly down the stem of his glass, his full glass that he knew from the beginning that he wouldn’t really drink. “I guess I just wanted to get away for a while.”

“That sounds like a horrible idea.” Upon receiving an incredulous look from Virgil, he amended, “I meant coming to a bar to get away. If you really want to get away, you should go somewhere with no people. Like a deserted island.”

Virgil snorted, and once he saw how Logan maintained his serious expression and realized he wasn’t joking, he surprised both of them by laughing.

“Are deserted islands really that funny?” Logan asked, genuinely confused.

“No, it’s just that most people can’t really afford to run away to a deserted island.”

“I’m not disputing that. Ideally, that would be the case. But like you said, most people can’t achieve the ideal. So we content ourselves with as close as we can get, or the illusion of it anyway.”

Virgil gazed at him and recalled the feeling of being swept along by a gentle current. It was so refreshing that he asked, “Where do you go then? When you want to get away?”

Logan stood from the barstool. “I could show you if you want.”

Virgil dropped some cash down by his drink to pay his tab and let Logan lead him out of the bar. His brothers watched them go with questioning looks, no doubt wondering where they were going. Virgil wondered where they were going too, and he wanted to voice the question aloud.

But in a weird, undefinable way, he trusted Logan Sanders.

They walked together down poorly lit streets, neither one of them speaking. Occasionally, their arms would brush and the feeling was a comforting one. Along the way, Virgil imagined that Logan would take them back to their old high school and to an empty band room again. Did he remember that afternoon? Did he think back on it fondly?

Did he ever regret not saying anything the next day?

They eventually stopped at an apartment complex. Logan apparently lived there.

“You brought me home?” Virgil asked, more amused that he had actually brought him home than mad about any implications that might have entailed. This was Logan Sanders after all. When playing a game of seven minutes in heaven, he would sit on the floor of a closet talking about jelly rather than make-out.

“You did ask me where I went to get away,” he said. They stood shoulder to shoulder, both of them looking up at the building, pondering it. “It’s a place that’s changed over the years, but ever since I moved out from my family’s home, my apartment is my safe haven because it’s just me here. I don’t have to worry about how people see me.”

Then he welcomed Virgil inside. It was a cramped, one-bedroom apartment with a lot of clashing furniture and decorations. Parts of it would be incredibly minimalistic while others were filled with clutter. Virgil examined the tapestry in the living room, a design of a tree with swirling branches in shades of gold, black, and red. Logan told him it was the tree of life, a design derived from a historic royal palace. From peeking at the overflowing bookshelves, Logan had a large interest in history and mythology.

They made their way to the bedroom and found themselves laying on the bed. Both of them stretched out on their backs, staring up at the ceiling as if there were stars there.

For hours they talked. Logan contributed the most to the conversation. He had a lot of thoughts built up, plenty of things to say now that he had someone to listen. And Virgil, he appreciated having something new to think about. He didn’t mind listening to a different point of view. In fact, he wanted to hear what Logan had to say about one matter in particular.

“Logan, you know how you said you like being here because you don’t have to worry about how people see you?”

“Yes. What about it?”

“What about how you see yourself?”

Logan was quiet for a time. For several minutes, Virgil could only sense his even breathing. He wanted to turn his head, to see if those blue eyes were closed and if he had fallen asleep. But Virgil’s eyes were fixated on the popcorn ceiling. His own breath quieted as much as possible, too afraid to miss the answer.

“You have to live with yourself,” Logan said at length. “You don’t have to live with anyone else, but you do have to live with yourself.”

You just have to deal with it. That’s what he was getting at.

It wasn’t that reassuring or alarming. It was simply a fact, what was to be expected.

They fell asleep like that. The next morning, Virgil woke before Logan. He had curled up into Virgil’s side, not exactly on him but more pressing against him, his face nuzzled into his shoulder. He frowned in his sleep, like he dreamt of puzzles with missing pieces that wouldn’t let him fully rest.

Virgil left a note for him before he let himself out. He was grateful to Logan, but there were things that he needed to do.

He had to live with himself. But it was up to him whether or not he was the kind of person he liked to live with. And right now, he wasn’t.

But he would be.

It was a hard journey, accepting himself and what had happened and—most importantly—how to deal with the aftermath. His father had given him time to work the stress out. He grieved for friends he thought he could trust. He shook in fear at this new unstable future. And although it hurt, he picked himself up and forged ahead, if not for himself than for his child.

The first thing Virgil did was transfer to a closer university. If he was to keep the baby, he’d need to swallow his pride and accept all the support his dad offered. It would be more practical living here, allowing him to raise his child in a good environment while also continuing his education.

The second thing Virgil decided was to cut ties from his friends. They were Roman’s friends too, and with how Virgil left with no explanation to the others, Roman had probably given them his side of the story without any consideration for him. They were probably on Roman’s side, and with his words still flashing through Virgil’s mind from that day, Virgil wouldn’t allow himself to be hurt like that again.

As could be expected, his friends tried calling him a lot. Roman did too. Whatever his reasons, Virgil couldn’t care less and blocked his number in vindictive satisfaction. If he wanted to make amends and actually be there for the baby, then he could put in the effort to come see Virgil in person. It’s not like Roman didn’t know where he had gone.

Surprisingly enough, someone did put in the effort to come check on him, but it sure as hell wasn’t Roman. It was early June and Virgil was six months pregnant when he opened the front door to find Dee. Of all his friends, he would have thought Patton or even Emile would be the one to come around, not Dee. He stood there uncomfortably, shoulders hunched, hands stuffed in his pants’ pockets. His eyes immediately zeroed in on Virgil’s round stomach.

“It’s Roman’s, isn’t it?” he blurted.

Virgil was so shocked that all he could do was stand there with his mouth open, struggling to say something. Dee seemed mildly alarmed, though whether that was at himself or seeing Virgil pregnant, he couldn’t tell. He averted his gaze to a bush beside him. His ears reddened.

“Sorry,” Dee said. “It’s just—well, I guess it all makes sense.”

“What?” Virgil asked, finally finding his voice.

“Why you and Roman got into that big fight. Why you left. He said you were ditching us, but it’s his, isn’t it?”

Virgil should have expected things to go like that, for Roman to leave out the problem altogether and blame Virgil. If Roman just ignored the existence of a baby he helped create, he wouldn’t have to worry about it, right? And if he didn’t tell their friends about it, then it was like it didn’t even exist.

And here Dee was on his doorstep, telling him that Roman had made him out to be the bad guy. Because if Roman couldn’t be the hero, he’d make do with being a victim.

It pissed Virgil off.

“What are you doing here?” he asked through gritted teeth. If not to tear the scab off of a wound that hadn’t fully healed, had Dee come for curiosity’s sake?

Dee fidgeted, crossing his arms and grumbling, “You didn’t come back, and you didn’t answer any of my texts or calls. It wasn’t like I was worried or anything.”

Just like that the anger dissipated and Virgil was crying. It caught him off guard, the swell of emotion, but not as much as it did Dee. His eyes were wide as saucers and he held his hands up as if to ward off the tears. He started stammering in a frantic rush.

“I was only stopping by to check on you. But if it upsets you that much, I’ll just go—”

Dee tried to turn to leave, but Virgil caught him by the wrist and pulled him in for a hug. Neither of them had been outwardly affectionate people, and the hug was made even more awkward by Virgil’s pregnant belly and the fact that he was crying all over Dee. He squirmed, freaking out.

“Do you want me to leave or stay? Which is it?!” he yelled in distress.

“Stay,” Virgil croaked out.

He had decided to cut off ties from his friends, but Dee had done what even Roman couldn’t be bothered to. He showed Virgil that he cared about him, and that was all he had wanted. That’s all he had wanted from Roman, to see some sign that he . . .

But he wasn’t going to show up. Somewhere deep in his heart, Virgil had hoped he would. Unconsciously, he’d been waiting for him.

It seemed he still had a ways to go.

Following that day, Virgil’s resolve deepened. Dee stayed for a while, and they talked things out and caught up. He’d been skeptical of Roman’s excuses, and his behavior as of late had become unbearably obnoxious. Dee moved out at the end of the Spring semester and now lived with his older sister just one town over. He’d be finishing out his education at a college there.

Virgil let Dee back into his life and found how much he had missed having friends. Since moving back in with his dad, any old friends from his high school days that he happened to run into didn’t get much past the, “Hey, how’ve you been?” pleasantries. That or gossiping about his pregnancy and getting his pronouns wrong.

There’d been Logan Sanders too, of course. They hadn’t exchanged numbers, but Virgil knew where he lived. He could have swung by his apartment at any time. Logan wouldn’t have turned him away, Virgil knew that. And he would have liked to talk to Logan, just like last time, and hear the calm tone of his voice as he enlightened Virgil with his eccentric considerations and pragmatic perspective.

What stopped Virgil was the note he had left him.

‘I want to be the kind of person I want to live with.’

You had to live with yourself. That was the lesson that Logan taught him.

And if he couldn’t be happy with himself, he would at least find contentment somewhere. He burned the notion into his head: the next time he saw Logan, he would have it all sorted out.

Months became years. Virgil gave birth to a baby boy and juggled family, friends, and college. After graduating, he convinced Dee to give living together another shot. They worked well together, and his son was already learning to call him uncle. Dee would play it off with a frown, but secretly Virgil knew that it warmed him.

One day, not long after his son’s fourth birthday, Virgil picked him up from school. Almost immediately after getting in the car, the child dozed off in the backseat. Virgil smiled at that, peeking glances at his little boy in the rearview mirror.

On the way, Virgil spotted a car pulled over on the side of the road. A man stood towards the back, looking over where one of the tires had blown out.

He almost didn’t stop. It wasn’t his problem, and if the guy couldn’t figure out how to change a tire, then he could call for someone to help him, right?

But the way his head hung low, and his shoulders hunched high, like he’d given up . . .

Maybe Virgil was reading too much into things, applying sentimental crap where he shouldn’t, but the point was that Virgil’s heart clenched and his foot eased on the brake pedal. He pulled over, a bit ahead of the man’s car.

He got out, closing his door as quietly as he could. Virgil wasn’t nervous about approaching the stranger. Okay, he was always nervous, but it was daylight, and the road wasn’t exactly abandoned. Plenty of vehicles came through this neighborhood. How many had passed though while the man had been stranded here? How many had labeled him as someone else’s problem?

Stupid bystander effect.

Virgil’s shoes clopped down the shoulder of the road. The man of course had noticed him pull over and watched him the whole walk over with a curious expression. He was tall, lanky as ever, hair brushed back and prickly cheeks in need of a shave, but Virgil recognized him right away.

“Logan?” he asked, hardly believing his luck.

Logan leaned back slightly, blinking at him like he had seen a ghost.

Virgil worried for a moment. “You . . . remember me, right?”

He looked him over and nodded slowly. “Virgil.”

Virgil managed a relieved smile. “Small world, eh?”

He shrugged. “We live in the same town. We were bound to run into each other sooner or later.”

Always so literal. Virgil shook his head and crossed his arms, leaning his shoulder into the side of his car. “Actually, I don’t live here anymore. I live over in Arcadia now. We were just on our way to go visit my dad.”

Logan tilted his head. “We?”

Virgil recalled that night Logan had invited him back to his apartment. He’d been pregnant with a boat load of problems weighing him down, and he’d held back from telling Logan about any one of them specifically.

Virgil glanced back over his shoulder. Suddenly he felt like being more open with him.

“C’mere,” Virgil said, waving him forward. “I want to show you something.”

It was a surreal experience, seeing Logan again after so many years and finding him here of all places. It was strange, sensing him trailing behind him, inquisitive as ever. Virgil stopped by the window, and they both looked in to see the sleeping face.

Before Logan could question him, he answered, “His name’s Thomas.”

There was a long silence where Virgil let the implication sink in. He watched the slight reflection of Logan’s face in the glass, the way his brows were furrowed deep in thought.

“I always thought that you would be a parent,” he confessed randomly. Virgil could have pointed out that lots of people were parents and that it wasn’t an unlikely hypothesis for him to have about Virgil, but it was the fact that Logan must have thought about this subject at length during some point of knowing him, and it tickled Virgil in a peculiar way. He laughed. Logan just looked at him questioningly.

“You know, I always planned to come by and see you again,” Virgil admitted. If Logan was confessing random thoughts, he might as well too. “I really wanted to.”

Logan shifted his stance. Virgil would say that he looked uncomfortable, but it was more like he never expected Virgil to say something like that and simply didn’t know what to do with the information. He settled for the obvious, logical approach. “Why didn’t you?”

Virgil stared out at the passing cars, up at the cloud covered sky. A chill wind picked up and brushed his bangs against his face, reminding him that winter was around the corner.

“Because I wanted to be a different person when we met. A better person. Someone who had a handle on his life. Someone I could be proud of.”

“And do you?” he asked, his eyes boring into Virgil’s. “Do you have a handle on your life now?”

It wasn’t an easy thing to answer, but if nothing else, Virgil had always been honest to him. “Sometimes I think so.”

Logan’s hands were hidden in the pockets of his jacket. It struck Virgil how much older he looked, and he wondered if he saw Virgil the same way or if he had aged by his view.

“We don’t ever have control of our lives. Not really,” Logan said. “You wanted to wait to see me until you were a different person? If that were possible, I’d say that was incredibly . . . sad.”

Virgil’s stomach plummeted for a brief moment at the thought that Logan—Logan Sanders—would make fun of his efforts.

He must have seen the hurt on Virgil’s face. One of his hands reached out, to touch his face or shoulder or something, but he was an awkward kind of person, like Dee, and so he lowered that hand again.

“I don’t know why you would want that.” His voice was soft, frustration edging along the lines of his words.

Virgil’s nails dug into his palms. “You don’t have to know. I don’t need yours or anyone else’s approval. If I want to change, that’s my choice.”

“You’re upset,” Logan pointed out needlessly. He shook his head. “You misunderstand. I meant if you were a different person, then you’d be gone, and that would be sad. I like who you are.”

“Oh.”

So he hadn’t been insulting him. He was still just really bad at socializing.

Virgil scratched his cheek, embarrassed. “Well then, what was all that about people not having control over their lives? You made it sound like the work I put in to better myself was pointless.”

“Not pointless. You can’t become someone else. You can only be a better you.”

“That’s what I guess I was going for then. I understand that.”

“Do you really believe then that you have a lot of choice in life?”

They were doing it again, like they tended to do. Diving in deep headfirst and getting lost in the stream of conversation.

Virgil scuffed his shoes against the asphalt, mulling over his question. “I didn’t peg you for the ‘fate believer’ type.”

“I’m not. I think people have a degree of control over where they end up. But sometimes, no matter how prepared you are . . .”

“Shit just happens?”

His lips twitched up. “I was going to say that things beyond our control interfere, but yes, your way of saying it sums it up too.”

“Things like a tire blowing out?” Virgil asked, gesturing to Logan’s crippled car.

“Among other things,” he agreed. There was more to it lingering underneath that statement. How had his life been since Virgil last saw him?

“You know how to change a tire?” he asked. If he didn’t, Virgil could offer to do it for him and that would give him a chance to talk more with him. It wouldn’t take too long, and Thomas would nap the whole time anyway.

Logan shook his head. “In theory, but I lack the tools to do so. My brother is on his way. He should be here in a few minutes.”

Guess that plan was out the window then. Virgil struggled to think of something else, a segue back into the topic he wanted. If there was something going on with Logan, he would like to help him.

“Virgil,” he spoke, breaking him from his fumbling thoughts. “I like to be in control of myself.”

“. . . yeah?”

“But as I’ve said, I don’t think we truly have control over our lives.”

“To some degree.”

“To some degree, technically, but all the same, when it comes down to it, shit just happens, as you said.”

“Right.”

“And I think that . . .” Logan paused, tapping a finger to his lips as he came to his conclusion. “I think that’s one of the hardest things a person must accept.”

Virgil thought on it long and hard, trying to see what he was getting at. In the end, Virgil nudged his shoulder with his. “It doesn’t mean that good things don’t happen that’s out of our control. Just look at Thomas. I thought my life was over when I got pregnant with him. I thought I lost pretty much everything. And I used to be so . . . angry . . . about it.”

There were times when he didn’t think he could make it through, when the safer corners of his mind reached out to him and told him to give it all up. If Roman could throw away responsibility, then so could Virgil. It was his life to do with as he pleased.

But it wouldn’t have been a very proud life, one that he could live with himself in, and that made all the difference.

“But when life throws you a curveball, you throw it right back.” Virgil smiled at Logan’s expression. “It’s something my dad says. It’s lame, but he’s kinda right. Things used to suck, but I’m glad I pushed through. I love Thomas and I love being a parent.”

“What if the metaphorical ball hits you hard?” Logan asked seriously.

Virgil leaned forward and smiled wider. “Then throw the ball back even harder.”

A truck pulled up behind Logan’s car and a tall red-headed man stepped out. He exchanged greetings with them, and though he put on a polite enough face for Virgil’s sake, he could tell that he was put out by his little brother.

As he dutifully left to change the car tire, the two of them watching him go as they stood side by side, Logan whispered to him, “I think he’s annoyed with me.”

“He still came,” Virgil pointed out. “That’s the important part.”

Logan eased at that. He turned to face Virgil fully, hands back in their pockets. “Thank you for stopping, but I don’t want to hold you up. I know you had somewhere to go.”

“It wasn’t any trouble,” Virgil said, though he did glance at Thomas’s sleeping face and consider that they should be heading on soon. “And it’s not like I actually helped.”

“You helped,” Logan denied firmly, meaning something entirely different.

For a few seconds, the atmosphere between them grew heavy. Lots of things were unspoken between them, lots of chances lay ready for the taking. But Logan’s shoulders weren’t hunched anymore and his eyes were brighter than ever.

“I guess I’ll be going then,” Virgil said, moving to take his leave.

Logan nodded, backing away slowly as he watched Virgil round the car to the driver’s side. His hand grazed the handle. It’d be easy to pull it open and forget about the niggling in the back of his mind. To hop in and not look back.

He looked back at Logan. He was still watching him, as if he’d been ready for Virgil to call back to him.

“Hey Logan?” he called.

“Yes?”

Virgil bit his lip, gaze searching him in an effort to etch the memory into permanence. Logan waited for him, patient as always.

“Back in first grade,” he started, “the first time you spoke to me, you told me that my color was purple. Do you remember that?”

“I do,” he said, surprising Virgil that he would remember that long-ago, seemingly unimportant experience.

“What did you mean by that?”

Logan stared into the middle distance, head gradually moving from left to right. “I have no idea.”

Virgil opened the door and slid inside. All the way to his dad’s house, he had to stifle his laughter.

General Tag List: @spectralheartt @a-pastel-pan @notalwaysthevillian @rose-gold-roman @ijustrealizedhowdumbmynamewas @katie-the-noble-fangirl @yourroyalydramaticanxiousness @aroundofapplesauce @merlybird500 @beach-fan @jemthebookworm @whats-going-on-kiddos @randomsandersides @gamerfreddie @unring-this-bell @that-royal-ravenclaw @analogicallythinking @lilygold23 @punsterterry @naw2702 @levy-the-b00kw0rm @iolanomsgranola @tacohippy56900 @accio-hufflepuff-power1 @just-another-rainbowblog @georganabanana @grey-says-heck@thesynysterunknown @idont-know-what-im-doing @enteryourfandomhere

[tokyotwosome]

Okinawa

Yesterday was our final day in Okinawa and in the short time we spent there so much transpired. The one thing that immediately caught my eye was how completely different Okinawa feels compared to that of mainland Japan. It’s clear that the American influence plays a big role, yet the islanders hold on to their distinct heritage in a very beautiful way. There were simple differences, really, yet so significant. Take the language, for instance. You often hear people in Tokyo mentioning how Okinawans speak a different dialect of Japanese. What I didn’t realize is a lot of the traditional way of speaking is almost its own language altogether. While they share many of the same customs as the mainland, they also have their own. Let me begin with why we went to Okinawa in the first place, apart from the fact that it’s been on our bucket list of places to go. The purpose of this trip was for Rob, myself, and our friend Naoki to deliver a seminar to JTEs (Japanese Teachers of English). Our friend and fellow colleague, Taniguchi-sensei (or “Grandpa” as we call him) is a well known organizer for these seminars and managed to book the trip for the four of us. We shared a presentation on “How to Team Teach with Foreigners” in the hopes of providing a new perspective to the JTEs. After meeting with all of the teachers and locals during our trip, we can say for certain that there is one thing Okinawa shares with mainland Japan and that is their warm hospitality, or omotenashi as they say in Japan.

DAY 1

Our first day was reserved for visiting some of Okinawa’s world heritage and memorial sites. The first place we toured was called Sefa-utaki, the historical origin sites of the Ryukyu Islands. Walking through the forested area and gazing at the monstrous rocks where pilgrims often travel to pray brought out a very spiritual feeling to us as observers. Shortly thereafter, we drove to the Peace Memorial for a private tour and a bit of history about the events that unfolded during the Battle of Okinawa in April of 1945. We were especially moved by the fact that the walls with engraved names of the dead included Japanese, Okinawan, and American military personnel. The cliff pictured above shows a beautiful view of where nature’s greenery meets the ocean-blue waves. During the intense battles that took place here, the locals were essentially pushed off the edge and forced to commit suicide against their will. At that time, the water was completely red from the blood of those who died. We took a few moments and all prayed together. It was quite beautiful and honestly what we hope our ancestors and countrymen would have wanted as a result from the war. 

Nearby the Peace Memorial is another memorial called Himeyuri that had another very emotional impact. The site is dedicated to an Okinawan girl’s school that had suddenly been forced to become participants during the battle. These girls had to drop their books and pick up medical supplies to aid the injured Japanese soldiers. As a result of the battle, almost all of the 222 girls lost their lives. I encourage everyone to learn about their story as it’s a truly tragic one. Girls as young as 12-years-old went into the underground caves where the Japanese military required them to care for the injured. They weren’t allowed to return to their families and eventually most of them died from various causes. They’re known as the Himeyuri students. 

Our first night out took a thrilling turn. What seemed like any normal Japanese-style restaurant turned out to be anything but ordinary. The restaurant included live music and portrayed a perfect example of Okinawan-style cuisine. We tried pig’s feet, Sōki soba (Okinawa’s famous noodle dish), as well as umibudou (or seaweed grapes, which had no particular flavor but a very interesting texture), and then washed it all down with an ice cold Okinawan brewed Orion beer. The music consistently involved the audience in singing along, dancing around the restaurant together and giving a cheers to your neighbor by shouting “ari-kanpai”. As if things weren’t exciting enough, we then took to the stage for a chance to try on traditional Ryukyu royalty attire (pictured above).

DAY 2

Our first seminar went exceptionally smoothly and we really connected with the teachers who had attended. Once the seminar came to a close for the day, we went out for a night of drinking and learning about Okinawan local life. One of the teachers played the sanshin (an Okinawan banjo-like instrument) as we all sang the local tunes at an anime-style karaoke bar. The night ended at a Showa era jazz bar with a very talented guitarist, where we sang old-style Japanese karaoke (no TV prompter). We spent the majority of the time drinking awamori (popular local spirits) and talking with our new local friends. 

DAY 3

Following our final day of presenting (including a taco lunch and local parade), we joined everyone for a sunset beach BBQ. We gathered by the water, drinks in our hand, as we took in the beautiful view of the ocean and cooked up various meats. What we hadn’t anticipated was the sudden change in weather. We started the BBQ with beautiful skies and a slight breeze in the air. Then, suddenly the storm decided to swoop in. The sky went grey as thunder and lightning boomed overhead. Rain began pouring in a monsoon-like way as the wind blustered through, blowing away our cups and plates. Soon after, a staff member came by to evacuate us as the storm was in full force. The group of us grabbed our belongings and took off towards shelter in a nearby resort hotel lobby. It was like something out of a movie. We sprinted through the rain as the wind gusted this way and that. Moments later we had safely arrived to shelter beneath the nearby hotel. The same staff member provided us towels to dry our soaking wet bodies, reimbursed us for the BBQ, and it was then that we realized some of the guys had carried their beers with them through the storm. We all busted into laughter at this realization and the mere luck of the typhoon hitting us so suddenly in that moment. 

DAY 4

Day 4 was yet another impactful day. As you may know, Okinawa has an abundance of U.S. military bases throughout the island. What you may not know is how exactly this impacts the locals. Whether it be the osprey that crashed (disrupting local life), the rape and murder of a high school girl, or the drunk driving from American military personnel, it’s clear that the military presence has an impact on the Okinawan people. In addition to all this, the Japanese government is currently in the works of a new plan to build a U.S. base on the shores of Henoko (a region in Okinawa). We had an opportunity (thanks to the help of our new friend and local university instructor, Keiko-sensei) to go speak with the protesters about what they’re opposing to try and grasp a better understanding of their cause. 

LET ME BE CLEAR THAT WE WERE IN NO WAY INVOLVED IN THE PROTEST, BUT MERELY THERE TO OBSERVE AND TALK WITH THE ACTIVISTS TO EXCHANGE THOUGHTS.

As it seems, the new base where the construction has began is not only endangering the ocean-life and surrounding natural habitats, but the locals feel they’re having their land stolen right under their feet. It was really powerful to see how passionate they are about their heritage, people, and land. It reminds me a bit of how the Native Americans feel about their land in the states and having to then fight for what is rightfully theirs. After speaking with the protesters, they had asked us each to say a little something and next thing I know I’m singing the song “Imagine” by John Lennon to a group of protesters in Okinawa as the U.S. military is gazing at us only a few yards away. It was a very surreal and eye-opening experience. 

DAY 5

The biggest take away from this trip is that we as people cannot bundle a society or country of people into one category. If you meet one American, can you honestly say you fully understand American culture from that one person? Certainly you cannot and the same is to be said about Japan. Okinawa is it’s own brand and a place we hope to visit again in the future, along with some of it’s neighboring islands. Our final day was spent sightseeing, shopping, and going to an ocean-view onsen (or hot spring). We would just like to thank Takara-sensei (see you in Seattle next March), Seiko-sensei, Seigo-sensei, Keiko-sensei, Gaku-sensei, Yoko-sensei, and the rest of the Okinawan crew of teachers! You all made our trip so very special and we’ll truly never forget it. A special shout out to Naoki and Grandpa (Taniguchi-sensei) for being such remarkable travel partners. Thanks to Grandpa for making this whole trip happen and being “the best of the best”. We are so incredibly lucky to know you all and feel very blessed to have such wonderful people in our lives. あり乾杯！

[travelinglight10-blog]

Thai Adventures With Bubba

Bubba had been telling me for months that he was coming to visit me in Thailand, even before I left last year we talked about it. He had to work to make it happen, starting with getting a passport. After that he just needed to save up enough money for a plane ticket and a little extra to spend while here. After a while it seemed like he wasn’t going to make it, but I kept my hopes up and prepared for him to visit by saving up my allotted vacation days. Bubba does things in his own way and in his own time and I was trusting that he would figure out a way to come visit me. At the end of June, he sent me a picture of a receipt for an expedited passport and finally, in July he bought a ticket to Bangkok. I was so excited.

The trip started off with his flight being delayed, which meant he would be landing in Bangkok sometime in the wee hours of the morning. I live about an hour from Bangkok International Airport, so originally, I was going to pick him up and take a cab home that night. Which meant, I would be able to make it to work the next morning. However, as Thailand has graciously taught me, plans often go awry. Instead, I booked a last-minute hotel near the airport and called in sick to work the next day. Because his flight was delayed, he missed his connecting flight, so I had no idea when he would be arriving. I fell asleep, not knowing when he would be landing, but figured he would be able to call me when he arrived. Turns out, the international plan he signed up for was for texting and calling only, and the plan I have here, is for data only, so our phones both worked, but they didn’t speak the same language. Around 5 am I received a call on Whatsapp, from my mom, telling me that Bubba had landed, so I told her to convey to him the instructions to get a cab to the hotel I was staying at. Shortly thereafter, there was a knock on my door and my brother was there! It was so good to see a familiar face. After such a long journey, he was eager to shower off the grime of travel. Showers are a bit different in Thailand, but I assumed he would figure it out. I was wrong. To my amusement, he told me how he has used the little hose that hung near the toilet to shower. What he thought was the shower, was actually the bidet or what some refer to it as, the bum gun. I wonder if anyone else has ever made that mistake before…

We started our adventure together in Krabi Province, in the South of Thailand, where we stayed on an island, spending most of our time lounging on the beach and meeting fellow travelers and Thai’s, alike. Because August is considered low season, especially for the islands, I scored a cheap room in a nice hotel on the island. Normally, I stay in hostels or share cheap bungalows with friends, so it was quite the treat. Our first night on the island we decided to grab dinner at an Indian restaurant. In order to get to the restaurant, we had to go to the other side of the island. There are three ways to do this: 1) a 45-minute trek through the jungle, 2) a 15-minute hike through the mountains/jungle that is sometimes blocked off when the tide is high, 3) walking along the shore when the tide is low, around the mountains/jungle. To go to dinner, we took the second route. We ate dinner and ended up going to a bar on that side of the island, where we played a few games of Jenga and filled each other in on what we’ve been doing over the last 10 months. Soon after, were both ready to crawl into those cozy hotel beds and pass out for the night, but mother nature had a different idea. When we went back to the shore, we realized the tide had risen so high that we couldn’t get to the entrance of the path to get back to the other side of the island. We were essentially stranded, at least until the tide went back out. We asked a local when the tide would be low enough for us to get to the path and he said around 1 or 2 a.m. So, we headed back to the bars. On our way back, we passed a couple playing music together on the beach. Bubba said we should join them, but I told him I didn’t want to intrude. We ended up at a reggae bar and 5 minutes later, the couple from the beach came and sat down right next to us. We ended up talking and we all decided we should go back to the beach to jam, but after 5 minutes, it began to pour. We sprinted to the nearest shelter, which was a little restaurant that was closing up for the night. We stayed there for about an hour, adding our voices to the sound of the rain pounding on the roof above us, until we were kicked out. At that point, the rain was still coming down in buckets and the tide was still too high to cross over to our side of the island. The lovely German couple we were with, took pity on our predicament and offered to let us sleep on the balcony of their hotel room. They even pulled the cushions off the couch in their room, so we could sleep on them. If it wasn’t for their kindness, we would’ve been stranded on the beach in the rain all night. After a few hours of sleep and 50 bug bites later, we quietly left their room to attempt to get back to our beds. It was around 4 am by the time we left and the tide was finally low enough for us to cross over. We grudgingly trekked our way along the shore, up into the jungle and back to our hotel. We slept in late that day and when we woke up we went to a cute little teahouse, where a kind elderly woman made us fresh ginger tea with lime. We spent the majority of our time in a bar on the island, where we chatted with the owner and other backpackers, played ping-pong, and listened to music. The rest of the time we spent on the beach, taking in the scenic views. We were fortunate to be on the islands during the full moon and lunar eclipse. That night, I stood staring up at the sky, basking in the glory of the moon and the beauty of nature.

After a few lazy days on Tonsai, we flew up north, to Chiang Mai. After checking into our hostel that night, we went to the night Bazaar, a huge night market. Bubba got some dinner, we did some window shopping, and then found a bar with live music, where we ordered some hot tea.

At our hostel, we met a guy from Turkey and ended up spending a lot of time with him. We rented a motorbike for a few days and drove into the mountains to explore with our new friend. The first day with the bikes, the three of us went to Doi Suthep, a temple with a beautiful view of the city. Then we drove further into the mountains and found a little coffee shop, where we for stopped a pot of tea (Bubba and I both have an affinity for tea) and watched storm clouds roll through the mountains in the distance.

 We continued our journey and found a village higher up in the mountains. There we found a beautiful flower garden and a waterfall. 

The next morning, we woke up early for a cooking class on a little organic farm. We were picked up and brought to a local market, where we sampled a few different Thai fruits and bought a few ingredients we would need for our dishes. When we got to the farm, we picked the rest of the ingredients ourselves and then made 5 traditional Thai dishes. Needless to say, we were very full by the end of the class! 

That night, we went to North Gate Jazz Club with a few other people we met at our hostel. The following day, we drove into the mountains again with another friend, a girl from Austria. As we were driving, it started to rain, so we decided to pull our bikes over. Luckily, we happen to stop at a waterfall, where there was a gazebo and benches to stay dry. While we waited for the rain to stop, we ended up doing some spontaneous yoga poses, meditation, and even “omed” together. As always, Chiang Mai treated me well. I’m so happy I was able to share the charm of such a wonderful city with my brother.

A few days in Chiang Mai and then we were off the Pai, a hippy, mountain town, about 3 hours from Chiang Mai. This time, I was prepared and took motion sickness pills before getting into the van. In Pai, we shared a cute little bungalow surrounded by rice fields.

We went on a hike and found a few temples and a huge white Buddha. 

There was an amazing vegan restaurant down the street from where we were staying. They had buy 2 get 1 free kombucha, vegan waffles and ice cream, an array of vegan desserts, and some of the most delicious food ever. We were happy campers (:

I don’t know what it is about Pai, but it has a powerful energy. There’s magic in the air there. Those few days there were transformative.

After a truly wonderful two weeks, it was time to fly back to Bangkok to send Bubba back to the states. I was sad to see him go, but knew I would see him again soon, along with the rest of my beautiful family!

If you’re reading this familia, I LOVE YOU! 

[caffeinated-muse]

To Be of Two Worlds

Chapter: 1

Word count: 1971

It was almost 11:30 as I checked my phone for the fifth time in the past two minutes. God, Hank was an insufferable old coot who apparently can't be bothered to at least text me. It doesn't even have to be case related by this point, just a "hello I'm not drunk off my ass" or even an update on his damn dog. Hell, I can almost believe that I care more for his dog than the man himself. But I know that'd be a lie, Hank has been there for me for a long time an old family friend doesn't even come close to how close we were before the accident. I did all I could think of to help him but nothing I tried seemed to do much good. Guess I was too closely tied to the before to help him deal with everything.

"LaChance, he still ain't here yet?" One of the other officers at the scene had tapped me on the shoulder.

"No, not even a text back. He'll show up on his own time however inconvenient it is for us." I sighed and pulled my phone out again. Shooting off another text.

"God dammit Hank, I'm tired of waiting for you to show up or even respond. I know you've seen these and yet no response. If you and your scruffy beard aren't here in five min I'm going in without you."

Shortly after hitting send the familiar dancing orbs that meant they were typing showed up. Just as soon as the orbs had appeared they were gone and I was left with this: 'Sorry for taking so long Lieutenant LaChance. It took me a while to find Lieutenant Anderson. I am replying for him as he is driving we will meet soon.'

"Shit, Fowler wasn't pulling my leg when he said that earlier." Staring at my screen in disbelief this was going to be a trip. 

Hanks car pulled up on the other side of street with a honking of its horn. His park job was a tiny bit off, he must've been at a bar. My suspicions were confirmed when he stepped out, his stride lacking the usual I'm-too-good-to-be-here vibe. Another figure got out the passenger side of the vehicle. Hank grunted a greeting at me.

"I take it this interrupted a fabulous night of booze and comatose napping?" This received a slight glare.

"Damn straight kid, if plastic here hadn't found me I would not be here. Let's just get this over with." 

"As you say all mighty Hank Anderson your word is god." With a mock bow I gestured for him to lead the way. "I take it you're the one who sent that text earlier:" I stated matter of factly.

"That is correct Lieutenant LaChance. My name is Connor, I am the android sent by Cyberlife." He was tall, probably had a full foot on me, seeing as I've never been very tall. Those brown eyes of his held something in them. Something I wasn't used to seeing in androids but there would be more time to puzzle him out later. After all, there was a homicide to solve.

The air inside the house hung heavy. It reminded me of roadkill left on the side of a road in the oppressive hot and sticky feeling of an overly humid summers day. Laid over that was a certain sourness almost like that of spoiled milk, curdling the air growing stronger the closer you got to the body slumped against the wall. The room itself was a nightmare furniture either toppled or destroyed, blood pools and even a pretty picture painted on the wall above our not so endearing cadaver. I am alive, it said a smile tugged at the corners of my mouth while a giggle clawed at my throat. And I, like the giddy fool I am gave in. This earned a few uneasy looks from the few officers around, Hank however was less than pleased with this outburst.

"Ember you blasted idiot get over here!" He hissed at me, Connor didn't seem to care he was simply taking in everything there was to see I guess. I walked away from hank toward some red substance spread out on a table.

"Naw Hank, there's drugs over here, I like drugs," I waved to Connor. "Connor darling be a dear come look at the drugs, I'm pretty sure it's Red Ice but I'll consult the walking database before confirming."

He walked over to me, side stepping around a fallen chair he kneeled next to me. As he stared at the pile of red crystals the led blinked a shade of yellow, I guess this is what analysis was, just staring at stuff. "Lieutenant LaChance is correct this is Red Ice." It was so matter of fact, it held almost no emotion but that was to be expected, he was an android after all. Connor stood up and went over the knife while I waddled over to Hank and the body.

"Don't be so smug Ember, come have a look at this I'm going to check out the kitchen." Hank stood slowly. "Less bending over in there." 

"Whatever you say pops." I chimed.

"Ugh, Jesus! What the hell are you doing?" Hank's voice held a tone of disgust. 

I stood up and walked up to them by the knife. "Hank please tell me the android licked the evidence." 

"I'm analyzing the blood. I can check samples in real time. I'm sorry I should have warned you." Connor stated.

"Ok, just don't put anymore evidence in your mouth, got it?" Hank waved his hand around gesturing to as much of the crime scene as he could.

"Oh my god, he licked the evidence," at this point I couldn't contain myself and started to laugh. Which prompted Hank to shove me out of the house and order an officer to not let me back in til I had calmed down. 

Needless to say it took several minutes for me to calm down. It had been so long since there was a really good honest to god homicide and to top it off we got paired with an android. An android who analyzes evidence by licking it. Oh, this would not be a dull case. I decided to try and make myself useful by examining the outside. 

It was a bit of dump to be honest. Garbage piled up on the front porch, the front lawn dying from neglect. Nothing too interesting out front, so I picked my way to the back. It was sadly even less interesting out there. Only thing of note was that the type of dirt back here was special, I remembered it as the kind that holds an impression for several weeks. So if you walked out there, everyone would know until you either waited the several weeks or purposefully raked it smooth. This was extremely boring so I poked my head in through the back door.

"Hank, I've taken my chill pills can I come back in?" He grunted with a nod and I hopped back in. It appeared that Connor was in the middle of wrapping up his theory on how the murder happened.

"I'm sorry for interrupting go on Connor." I squeaked clearly interested.

"The android stabbed the victim." He continued.

"So the android was trying to defend itself, right?" I asked trying to get a mental image of what happened.

Connor nodded. "The victim then fled to the living room."

"He tried to get away from the android." Hank added. "That makes sense.

"The android then murdered the victim with the knife."

Hank raised an eyebrow slightly. "Your theory isn't totally ridiculous, but it doesn't answer where the android is right now."

"It was damaged by the bat and lost some thirium, the fluid that powers androids biocomponents." Connor explained. "It evaporates after a couple of hours and becomes invisible to the naked eye."

"Let me guess you can still see it can't you." Connor nodded at my statement.

"Well from my poking around in the dirt out back there's no way android murderer could've left the back way, so it's still here somewhere. That means you get to follow the splotchy thirium road, have fun." Hank opened his mouth to say something but I cut him off. "Dirt out there is like wet cement, you step in it you leave a trace visible for several weeks unless you go out and erase it, also witnesses ruled out anyone leaving by the front door so only option left is its hiding out here."

Hank sighed in annoyance, "Okay but then why haven't we found the damn bucket of bolts yet? We've only what had a dozen or so men out here looking and poking at stuff."

"Connor!" I yelled and he poked his head into the living room from the kitchen.

"Check if there's an attic, I bet you a whole cheesecake it's in the attic." With a curt nod our friendly resident android was off on his hunt for that thirium trail while the old man and myself made our way to the kitchen away from the body.

"Ember of all the things why a cheesecake? You know those aren't good for you." He sighed and put his head in his hands.

"Neither is all that alcohol you drink but do you see me complaining about that?"

"All the fuckin time kid, half of your damn texts are about it. Wish you'd get off my case."

"Alright ya got me there pops, cheesecake is less damaging to my liver than all that booze you force into your body." There was a crash from the attic, I jumped a bit. "Connor what the hell is going on up there?"

"It's here Lieutenant!" Was what we got in response from the dark spooky attic. Hank then took charge and ordered everyone to get in there to extract the robomurderer. Once they had the android down Connor hopped out of the attic.

"Thank you for the tip Lieutenant."

"Hol' up there my dude, first off you don't need to thank me for shit, it's part of my job to contribute to all this murder solving. Secondly, let's get out of here. I may be a sucker for a nasty crime scene but the smell does get old." 

Outside the rain had let up a bit and aside from the mild squabbling of the officers shoving the android into the back of the transport vehicle it was quiet.

"So, I was thinking, now that that's over it's introduction time. Our initial meeting was a bit rushed after all. My name is Ember LaChance, lieutenant with the DPD and long time partner of grumpy guts Hank Anderson." I extended my hand toward Connor.

"As you know my name is Connor I am the android sent by Cyberlife. I am here to help resolve this issue of deviancy among lower level androids." He took my hand and we shared a curt handshake.

"It's a pleasure Connor, see you back at the station." I turned toward my damp motorcycle and shook off my helmet before pulling my hair back and putting it on.

"Lieu-Ember why don't you ride with Hank?" Connor asked.

"It's a simple reason really, I don't always like to listen to heavy metal on full blast. But he always hits me with this 'driver picks the music, shotgun shuts their cakehole' bullshit." I flipped down the eye shield on my helmet. "I'm my own driver, that means its my music and no shotgun rider to keep their cakehole shut." With that I started up my bike and flashing Hank a quick wave sped off through the rain toward the station nothing but the rumbling of my bike filling my ears.

[mredwinsmith]

Japan’s True Hat Tourney

Coming to Japan, the only “culture shock” that I was worried about was finding a good pickup game of ultimate. Unlike many of you amazing athletes reading this, I never played in college or trained with a team. I’m a pickup player through and through. I started with a crew of friends, orange Home Depot buckets for cones, and fields of patchy, dubious quality in sunny San Jose. By the time I left California, I was playing pickup four times a week—twice on the beach, twice on the field—and running plays as a handler. Nothing made me happier than watching a newbie, some long-distance runner who was still learning how to throw a backhand, streak into the endzone for a point. I loved ultimate, and it had made me a better, more giving person—it had changed my life.  

Online, before my flight to Japan, I was messaging every group I could find about a game. I came up with nothing. Some groups existed, but they were tourney focused machines working their way toward that well-oiled stack and cup play that I had never quite figured out. In the past two years since my arrival, I’ve campaigned—talking to everyone I can, going to social events literally for the express purpose of talking about ultimate—in order to get small pickup games going in Takasaki, the biggest city of our prefecture. It’s two hours on the train for me, but I’ve been able to draw fifteen to twenty people, almost all of them absolute beginners, out into the sun to toss the disc.

Honestly, I came to Japan because life in California had gotten a bit stale. My time on the field was rewarding and great, but off the field, I felt like I was in a rut. I had been tutoring kids for a few years and thought that teaching English in a foreign country would mix things up. It certainly did, but no matter how settled you get in a new place, there’s always something missing. For me, it was always more ultimate.

A couple years after I got here, we were making progress in our pickup games. A bunch of my crew had started to message me regularly, asking when we’d get out again. It made me happy every time people showed up, watching them fall in love with the sport–seeing that first end run, sliding layout, or point scored. I figured it was enough, these five or so games a year.

At least, I did until I met a businessman in my adopted hometown. He threw a shindig at a local restaurant, wining and dining the local foreigner population and asking what he and his friends could do to increase international tourism to our little town. Tatebayashi is fairly beautiful—with sakura blossoms in early April and a few festivals to its name—but it isn’t a draw by any standard measure. There are no world heritage sites here, and the azalea festival, which centers around a walk in the park, looking at—you guessed it—azaleas isn’t quite the ticket for people who want to truly experience Japan. When he popped his question, I was ready.

I took a disc out of my bag and asked him if he’d ever heard of ultimate. “Foreigners love it,” I said, mentioning the Tokyo Ultimate crew (with whom I’d trekked the 3 hours to play a few times), and my own budding disc enthusiasts in and around the prefecture’s capital. “We could have a tournament.” We tossed the disc—and the idea—around for the rest of the night. I already knew what I wanted.

Photo by Shuichi Tsujimoto

There was only one vision that I had for this tournament, only one shining example that I aspired to emulate: Hats, Hops, Hucks. It’s a tourney with hat rules—as in, no hat, no play. If your hat falls off, it’s a turn over. These aren’t normal hats, either. We’re talking fun hats. Massive foam rubber things, or the kinds of hats you buy at Disneyland, wear around the park, and then try to pretend you didn’t actually waste $30 on. My plan was to drop the rules pertaining to hats (too complicated to explain), but to keep the hats–and with them, the spirit of those California games.

This thought wasn’t a passing fancy, though. This was a necessary, intrinsic part of my plan.

To understand why you have to understand something about Japan’s attitude toward sports. From the outside, Japanese sports don’t look like a lot of fun—they look like work. At the middle school where I work, kids come to school shortly after 7 AM and practice before class. They stay after school, too, in nearly all weather conditions, coming even on Saturdays and the occasional Sunday to crank out a few more hours of throwing a ball or swinging a racket. These kids work hard—really hard—and adult sports look much the same. Those well-oiled tourney machines I mentioned before? That’s how they’re trained for all the traditional sports, and if they play ulti in college, they’ve got the same look in their eyes when they see a disc.

Although ultimate is a little more relaxed because of the later stage in life that Japanese people pick up the sport, a game of pickup—no training, no drills, just getting your cleats dirty for the sake of fun—is really hard, if not impossible, to find.

That’s why this tourney had to be different. If we wanted foreigners to come, it needed to be a friendly environment to learn and experiment. It needed to be a tourney that you could come to without a team, but with ten extra pounds of meat on your bones since the last time you laced up. It needed to be a true hat tourney, and it needed real hats. It needed the kind of hats that told the professional players, “hey, we’re here to have fun, remember?” The next day at work, I opened a Word document on my computer and titled it, “Hats, Hops, Tatebayashi. Can we do it?”

It took me months of messaging, reaching out to Club Jr. and talking to my friends, before I was ready to pull the trigger on the tournament. Eventually, Club Jr. settled on a day that they could come out to support us and I went to my man in town. We arranged to meet up, and before long, he had assembled a team of local businessmen. They had watched YouTube videos about ultimate beforehand, and I showed them pictures from my last outing at HHH. “There are a ton of frisbee tournaments here in Japan,” I said. “We must be different—we must be fun. We must have hats.” To my surprise, they understood my broken Japanese, and, more importantly, my reasoning.

Let’s gloss over the details a bit here, but suffice it to say that I spent several hours of every day, from January 5th (the day after my school’s winter vacation) to April 7th (the day of the tourney) messaging people, writing emails, posting to Facebook groups, drawing up t-shirt designs, making banners, clarifying the details, speaking Japanglish with newspaper reporters, and working on every conceivable thing I could do for the tourney. I met up with the guys at other restaurants on other nights and hashed out the details of what could and couldn’t be done.

At one meeting, a special guest member, a fellow ulti player from the capital, mentioned that maybe we could get more players if the tournament became a team tourney—y’know, bring your team and play. Luckily, the guy who had been enlisted to translate for me was more diplomatic than me. What I said was, “if you change it to a team tourney, I’m out.” What he said was more akin to, “maybe we can make the second day be devoted to teams. The first day is hats.” I was okay with that.

After plenty of hiccups and a lot of unexpected spending—prizes for players cost how much?—we arrived at the day. The guys and I chalked the lines ourselves in torrential winds and prayed that it’d die down before the discs started flying.

When the morning of the tournament arrived, the weather was mostly calm, but threatening rain. A cable news team had shown up to interview the players, and another newspaper reporter was walking around with a pad of paper herself. Club Jr. brought us extra tents in case the rain came down as well as the tourney shirts that they had gotten printed for us. When the players arrived, they represented a dozen different races, including 30 or so locals, and claimed true hometowns around the world and local hometowns up to fifty miles away. Sixty people in all ended up coming, from age seven to well over forty. They had heard the message: that this was a tournament for people who didn’t have teams, who wanted a return to the spirit of the game, that feeling of being barefoot in the park with your best friends. They wanted a return to the community of ultimate, where we’d eat barbeque burgers after the winners had been declared.

After tourney BBQ.

They brought their hats, too. Sharks eating people’s heads, local prefectural mascots, hats with spinners and umbrellas, flowers and googly eyes—they were all there. They came to have fun. Even the coach of Japan’s national team, who lives in the capital near where I arrange pickup games, came and brought his family with him. In a pink, flowered hat, he D’ed the only hammer (a low, terribly chosen bullet, cross-field) that I threw in the tourney. The only difference between this and the last time we had played together was that this time, he did it with a smile on his face. People heckled and laughed, they made new friends. Pros had come out and they certainly led their teams, teaching everyone little tidbits of what it takes to go to Worlds, but they still passed to the newbies, the kids, and the ladies (who are sorely lacking in a normal mixed-gender tournament). Games were low-scoring, but every miss was so close you could taste it.

After the tourney, they ate “California style” burgers (I made the closest approximation to In N Out’s spread that I could) and drank beers. The teams mixed and chatted together, some of them staying out until well after midnight. When I had gone before, to another tournament with the local crew, we’d stuck to ourselves. Our team on the field was our team after the game and in the bar after that. I never even learned the names of any of our opponents, let alone what their favorite drink was. This was entirely different, not just for me, but for many of the players, too.

Sitting, drinking with new friends that night, a Filipino player who lived in the neighboring prefecture told me how happy he was to be there. “This is how it is in the Philippines. We all hang out after. You bring your team, but when it’s over, we eat and drink together. I started out with friends just on my team, but every time we went to a tournament, I made more. I used to stay in hotels, but now I can go anywhere in the country for a tournament and stay on someone’s floor. This is what I’m missing here.”

Post-game congratulations–Japanese style (Photo by Shuichi Tsujimoto)

I’m proud to be here as a teacher, and I’m definitely proud of the work that I do on a daily basis, but nothing at school has ever felt as good as hearing that. As of now, I’m preparing to leave the country (three years is a long time to live in a place where you only half-speak the language), but I hope that this tournament will represent the lion’s share of my legacy. In an interview with the TV reporter, one of the organizers said that he wanted people to think of Tatebayashi as a fun town. He wants the name to become synonymous with this tourney, with the fun that can be had here.

Maybe only 60 people came out this year, but in some small way, I changed the social landscape of this place. I changed Tatebayashi the same way that ultimate changed me—bringing true fun and a reminder that life doesn’t always have to be so serious. Here’s hoping that spirit lives on, with or without me, everywhere the game is played.

The post Japan’s True Hat Tourney appeared first on Skyd Magazine.

from Skyd Magazine https://ift.tt/2H9rkKH

[ageue]

back in bali. 🏝

Arriving in Kuta was full on. I arrived late from my flight to finally arrive in my hotel room. Peace at last I thought... I stepped into my $25 room to find out that I wouldn’t sleep because the walls were vibrating to the beat of old school RnB and karaoke...till 5am. Let’s just say I will never step foot in Kuta again. The next morning I was getting picked up to be taken to Sanur Beach to catch the fast boat to Nusa Lembongan. I realised I had forgotten an adapter so headed out early to barter for one. And no, my bartering skills have not improved (but I did get a new pair of sunnies). I was disgusted at this mornings breakfast, so I went to the mini mart. I had a lovely discussion with a Balinese man who told me I had a beautiful smile - a great start to my day. Pulling up to the shore in Nusa Lembongan was magical. It took me back to the crystal clear waters of the Gili islands but with even less people. I was picked up by Hoolio. He comes from Valencia in Spain and runs the resort I’m staying in. I love my accommodation. It’s situated in the north of Nusa Lembongan in Julungbatu right on the beach. I was welcomed with a watermelon juice (....oh how I’ve missed this) and taken through the activities available on the island. I spent the afternoon going for a walk and had a glorious massage followed by a delicious lunch of fresh fish wrapped in banana leaves with rice and vegetables. I am back in foodie heaven. I had an early night that night as I was running on very little sleep and had been booked in for a surf the following morning - another early wake up! Surfing was awesome. We were out at ‘lacerations’ and it was so much fun. We were out there for 3 hours so by the end I was wrecked. I could barely get myself back in the boat to get back to shore, but I can safely say I have improved. I was running on a bit of a high after arriving back from surfing so I decided to rent a scooter and explore the island. I am surprised I am still alive quite frankly, but it was very liberating driving down small paths dodging trucks, dogs, and chickens. I was loving it. I was soon running low on petrol and pulled over. You can’t get petrol on the island so it comes in plastic bottles and costs 20,000 to fill up (less than 2AUD). Shortly after, I was on my way to Lembongan village and across to Nusa Ceningan (a small island off of Nusa Lembongan). There is a suspension bridge that connects the two islands and the only way you can get across is by foot or on a scooter. I don’t really know how I made it, but I was very impressed with myself that I crossed on the scooter. I didn’t really have any idea where I was going (but you can’t really get lost on either island if you follow the roads). I drove around the island and found some beautiful little bars perched right on the waters edge. I sat down and enjoyed a mojito while talking to the owner of the bar (Danny) about life on the island, life in Australia, and gin (in which I promised I would bring over a sample of Kangaroo Island gin at another time). I kept riding around until I found the cliff jumping spot... (in this moment I was angry I hadn’t brought bathers, but will hopefully head back there this week). I kept following the road around and came across ‘secret beach’ after a long off-road stint on my trusty scooter. This was beautiful. I was the only one there along with one local who was collecting coconuts from the trees....I love these moments. I scootered on until I got to the highest peak with the most spectacular view. I met this lovely couple from Holland and they offered to take a picture for me which was awesome (because when you’re travelling alone you end up with a lot of scenery shots). I headed back down the hill, across the bridge and back to the resort via the mangrove forest. I was starving by this stage and the weather wasn’t looking great with big black clouds in the sky, so thought I’d better make a dash to dinner. I found another little seafood restaurant around the corner of where I was staying. I had whole snapper with vegetables and rice - another amazing feed. I walked home after that and missed the rain by about 30 seconds in which it’s been bucketing down for the last hour...fingers crossed it’s a clear day tomorrow morning.

[thekimmiandjackieshow]

A Day of Being Dapper and Dining at Cinderella’s Royal Table

My phone vibrated on the cheap wooden nightstand next to my head early one Saturday morning. I turned the alarm off as quickly as possible so I didn’t wake up my roommate who had worked late the night before. Usually I hesitated to get up. Usually my alarm meant I had to get up for work. I spent a quick second double checking my work schedule as I did every day - a paranoid habit I had picked up after reading horror stories of people getting termed for going to the parks after forgetting they had work that day. Moments later I was getting ready for the most magical day ever.

See, twice a year, Disney parks become the home for a famous event known as Dapper Day. It started out as a small event in 2011 where people could showcase their style, vintage or otherwise, and roam the parks. It has since grown into an event that attracts guests from all over, even those who aren’t particularly invested in fashion. Dapper Day Events take place in Disneyland California, Walt Disney World, and Disneyland Paris, with events in both the fall and spring. I had been lucky enough to attend two spring events at Disneyland and one fall event at Walt Disney World, but I was extremely excited for the spring event at Walt Disney World. With Disneyland being a relatively easy park-hopping resort, Dapper Day Events typically take over both parks. At Walt Disney World though, the organizers of the event tend to pick a main park for the celebration. The Fall 2015 event was held at Hollywood Studios. It was really fun and had its own charm to it, but I was excited because the Spring 2016 event was being held at Magic Kingdom. While no specific era is the focus of Dapper Day, I like to imagine that Dapper Day events recreate what Disneyland would have looked like when it first opened its gates in 1955. You know, back when guests wore high heels and bow ties to the parks. I was excited to see what Magic Kingdom felt like.

It was every bit as magical as I had hoped.

Dana, Jo, and I planned to get to Dapper Day early so that we could ride the street cars down Main Street. Of course when make up and hair curlers are involved, you never leave on time. I wore the same thing I had worn the Dapper Day before, a cupcake dress I had ordered off of Etsy. There are people who design their own dresses, go all out in accessories, and have to have something new every single outing. I’ve never been that person and I’ll probably never be that person, but the cupcake dress was easily one of my favorites out of my dress collection. I checked the weather: hot, humid, with a chance of rain. Classic Florida. My hair went up in a ponytail, Dana curled it, and we were ready to go!

I’m not usually the biggest fan of Magic Kingdom. *Cue audience gasp and immediate loss of followers.* I just think Disney can update quite a few of the attractions at this point, although I recognize that it’s hard to do when you’re trying to get everything open year round for guests who are there on a once-in-a-lifetime vacation. That being said, Magic Kingdom is one of my favorite hangout parks. I love the atmosphere from Main Street to the hub, and could easily spend my entire day in front of the castle. 

We ran into the park, giddy and ready for magic. The energy on Main Street matched our excitement, and we couldn’t wait to get the day started. Jo had driven separately since she had to work later in the day, so Dana and I started off on Main Street by ourselves. The Town Square Theatre was on our right, inviting guests to come inside and meet Tinker Bell and Mickey Mouse. The wait to meet Tinker Bell was next to nothing, and I had never done it, so we skipped inside. The Cast Member greeted us, asked us how many were in our party, and invited us into the next room. It was dark inside, lit only by the shimmering pixie dust on the walls. I grabbed Dana’s hand in excitement. The Cast Member appeared in front of us and told us to say, “Pixie Dust”. As soon as the small crowd did, the pixie dust danced over to a door that had been hidden by the darkness of the room and it opened up. We shuffled into that room to find Tinker Bell playing in her forest. When it was our turn to meet her, Tinker Bell wasted no time in asking if the pumpkin muffins on my dress were real. I said I wished they were and she invited me back to have pumpkin muffins with her and her fairy friends any time. We took our picture and headed out back into the theatre. 

I couldn’t stop talking about how neat it was and what a magical start to the day it had been. Even the things that just looked like buildings from the outside were magical worlds on the inside, and it impressed me. We continued on down Main Street and ran into a Cast Member who was passing out “I’m Celebrating” buttons that already said Dapper Day 2016 on them. Even though Dapper Day is an unofficial Disney event, Disney is very much aware of when these events happen and do what they can to make the visit special for guests in the small ways they can. Dana and I grabbed buttons and pinned them on before heading to Casey’s Corner. 

Apparently Casey's Corner has their own special opening. Being a quick service food stop, it opens slightly later than the rest of the park does. They’re supposed to sing “Take Me Out to the Ballgame” or something like that when they open their doors. I had never heard of it but Jo and the coworkers who worked there were interested in seeing it from the outside. We waited for it, but I was soon distracted by other things. A random guest who was also celebrating Dapper Day said she liked our outfits and wanted to get a picture with us. I didn’t catch her name but she appeared to be by herself and was trying to get as many pictures as she could with people who were dressed up. 

Then, the classic Main Street music paused and Move It, Shake It, Dance It, Play It! was announced. If you know me at all, you know I’m fairly socially awkward. With characters, it’s even worse. I can tell they’re trying to communicate with me, but rarely can I tell what’s going on. So a dance party with characters would seem like my worst nightmare. But MISI actually has a very special place in my heart. It’s such an upbeat parade/dance party that you can’t help but feel anything other than excited. The “Party Up” music began, and despite the fact that I didn’t really visit Magic Kingdom all that often, I had all the words memorized. Dana and I instantly started singing along. Casey’s was opening behind us, but MISI had stolen all my attention. I looked up as Mickey Mouse passed by. He waved to me. Friends behind me laughed as their work location opened up. My roommate to my right was dancing along to the loud music pumping through speakers on the famous Main Street, USA street. Dancing to MISI had become the norm. The Florida breeze that comes right before it starts sprinkling passed by and reminded me that I was over 2,000 miles away from home, and that this was real life. The e-mail I had received months and months ago led to that very moment, and I was living the dream. 

Parade Control followed the last set of dancers towards the hub. Dana and I followed right behind, dancing and singing along. A few other dapper friends joined in on our mini parade while tourists anxiously shuffled their feet close behind, trying to get a few pictures, unaware that they were all going to get very close to the characters shortly. We followed them until they parked around the hub and then cut across to Liberty Square. We weren’t in any real hurry. Our first scheduled stop was to have a late breakfast at Sleepy Hollow. 

I had never been. It was on my bucket list of course, but had always been put on hold for other things. We got our breakfast and found a table in a corner. All of them were covered in powdered sugar, a sign of the place being good.

The powdered sugar was as messy as everybody else made it look. I tried to avoid getting any on my black dress, wondering why we had made the choice to eat at a place that was that messy when we were trying to look so fancy. Despite the messy powdered sugar falling everywhere, it was one of the best breakfasts offered inside the parks. 

After everything was cleaned up, we decided to watch the Trolley Show. Another thing I had never seen before. I was slowly checking things off my bucket list. It was part of what made the day so magical. If we had done all of the things that I normally did at Magic Kingdom, it wouldn’t have been special. It wouldn’t have been any different from any other day. But instead my day was filled with new experiences and memories specific to that day. Experience after experience filled my heart with the love I knew I’d eventually have for Magic Kingdom once I got past the homesickness it gave me for Disneyland and the resentment I had against my job. Each thing reminded me why I loved Disney. Being there was an escape. It was a place where a large majority of the people were happy and excited. It was a place I could feel good in. A place that felt like home while still being new each time. A place filled with good, positive memories. A place that allowed me to be worry-free. That day especially was a special one.

We stopped on a random curb along Main Street. I had no idea what to expect. I asked Dana if this is where we’d see the Trolley Show. She said it was a rough estimate, but it should be a good spot. Shortly after, a big blue trolley appeared around the corner. Following the trolley were performers in pastels. The boys wore bow ties, vests, and hats. The girls wore petticoats, frilled dresses with bows on the back, and their hair in large curls. The giant wheels on the trolley came to a stop while the performers danced and sang around it, welcoming us to the town in true Main Street fashion. I clicked my camera away as Dana recorded the show in 10 second intervals on SnapChat. She commented on how the trolley was different. We talked about how even the trolley wanted to partake in the holiday.

The trolley was soon on its way down Main Street again, steadily approaching the next small crowd of guests. The small spontaneous show left a smile on my face, and reminded me that Disney wasn’t only about being big and impressive, but about being detailed and thorough. The show was a continuation of the idea that everybody on Main Street truly lived in that small town and knew the mayor at the end of Town Square. The casual appearance of the performers made it feel like you had stepped into a real-life musical, where every regular citizen randomly dances together and bursts into song. I’ve always wanted to live in a world like that, so it left me feeling pretty jazzed about life. 

Of course one of the main reasons to go to Dapper Day at Walt Disney World is to get pictures around the parks. Dana and I wanted to get as many pictures as we could as early as possible so we could switch out our heels for more comfortable shoes. I had walked around in the parks in character heels before for previous Dapper Days and never had a problem. But combined with the previous 12 hour shifts, my feet were feeling extra sore. Most of our pictures were going to be in front of the castle, though we had quite a few in mind that we wanted to get. So we twirled in front of the castle, princess posed on bridges, made wishes at the wishing well, skipped to the castle steps, spread out our skirts over the hub grass fences, and took pictures of each other from every angle. At that moment we were inseparable and our day was magical, and nothing could change that.

We got pixie dusted in Fantasyland, danced in the rain, and marveled over the castle’s beauty. Jo then split off to be with coworkers, so Dana and I headed off on our own path. After changing into more comfortable shoes, we made a plan of what to do next. During Dapper Day, an artist who does unofficial Disney buttons was passing out free Dapper related buttons. I had gotten one the semester before after Joy introduced us to him, and this time he was giving hints about where he was on Snapchat. Dana and I were determined. We went around Magic Kingdom and ended up waiting by the People Mover for a while. All of a sudden we got a text from Jo saying that he was right next to her back in Fantasyland. The two of us raced to the back of the park, hopeful that he would still be there when we got there. There he was, stopped by a small crowd who had discovered him. We said the magic word, picked out our buttons, and had achieved our mission from the day.

Shortly after, Main Street was preparing for Festival of Fantasy. We waited impatiently on the curb, ready to sing along and wave to our favorite characters. The parade rounded the hub and started down Main Street as the guests of Magic Kingdom were welcomed and invited to be part of the magic. Our dreams came true, our hearts soared, and we lived for being part of the magic as the parade passed before us. Just another day living in Walt Disney World.

During our day, I realized that an old friend was visiting Magic Kingdom. She hadn’t realized it was Dapper Day, but was in town and was stopping by Walt Disney World with family. I messaged her and we had agreed to get together right after the parade for a quick catch up and a picture. Bri and I had met during my first Disney Cruise in 2011. I had gone to Alaska - a 7 night cruise on the Disney Wonder. Every night, since night one, the early 20′s college-aged club would meet up with an entertainment host in a club along “Route 66″. We’d play games, watch live entertainment, dance, and do just about anything. Even after the regular meet-up times were over, we’d hang out around the ship talking about life and bonding. Our little group got pretty close and we managed to stay in touch with Facebook and whatnot after the cruise ended. Bri and I had also gotten together again in 2013 when I sailed on the Disney Dream with my mom. She was working as an Entertainment Host on the Dream at the time, and we were very excited to meet up with each other. Then, on Main Street, on Dapper Day, we were reunited again.

The two of us got to chat briefly about our lives as Cast Members before she had to catch up with her family for the rest of her vacation. It was yet another magical moment to add to our list of magical moments for the day. We wished each other well and went our separate ways.

Dana and I still had a few ideas of pictures we could take along Main Street. Before we did that, we started to think about what we wanted the rest of our day to look like. I wanted to try to ride Space Mountain in a big fluffy dress, explore Tom Sawyer’s Island, and see if any table service restaurant had any walk-ins available. Dana agreed. I had been to Be Our Guest several times and was ready to try some of the other restaurants in Magic Kingdom. The Lady and the Tramp inspired restaurant on Main Street caught my eye, and I mentioned to Dana that we should try there. Then she said something crazy. She said we should check to see if Cinderella’s Royal Table had anything open.

Cinderella’s Royal Table is a restaurant on the second story of Cinderella Castle. It is one of the most popular restaurants on Disney property. Not only is it in the iconic castle with stunning views of Fantasyland, but it is a princess meet and greet dining experience. Sometimes day-of cancellations happen, but they don’t happen that frequently because it costs money to cancel the reservation. I tried not to get too excited as we raced towards the castle. The odds of getting a table there were slim to none. An old roommate of mine had told me stories of times that she had waited on waitlists for the restaurant and never got in. I had never even put it on my bucket list because it didn’t seem possible. 

Dana walked up to the Cast Member working the front desk to ask if there was any magical way that a table had opened up for that evening. A table on any random day would’ve been a miracle, but on Dapper Day - a day where guests love to sit down to fancy dinner in their fancy attire? I wasn’t holding my breath. The Cast Member didn’t miss a beat. 

“Does 10:00pm work for you?”

We stopped. It took us a few seconds to register what was happening. Dana turned to me with a questioning look.

“I can stay until 10:00,” I said.

We agreed. We’d stay all day and finish our day at Cinderella’s Royal Table. It didn’t feel real.

The Cast Member gave us a slip of paper with our names and a return time on it. She told us we’d be one of the last tables seated. We couldn’t believe it.

It was still day time and we had so much time before the end of the day. I put the slip of paper safely in my purse, still half wondering if it was even valid. I couldn’t believe all the magic that was happening. With excitement rushing through our bodies, we skipped down Main Street for more pictures.

One of my favorite parts about working and living in Walt Disney World is the feeling that you know everybody. When you’re on vacation there, you pretty much know the people you’re there with. Living there is entirely different. While wondering the park you may spontaneously bump into friends who are also there enjoying their day off. Or you may walk right into a friend who is working somewhere. Running into people everywhere you go makes the place feel more like home. Instead of being filled with strangers, the place is filled with friends. Dapper Day was no exception. We stumbled into a few of my coworkers that day who were also celebrating Dapper Day!

We were so focused on getting pictures throughout the day that we weren’t really focused on any of the attractions. I had mentioned trying to ride Space Mountain in a giant fluffy dress, but we ended up passing on that and heading to Big Thunder instead. The line was short and we had time to spare, so we hopped on. Shortly after, we raced over to Tom Sawyer’s Island. I had never spent a lot of time there and I never seemed to have time to do it on my visits to Magic Kingdom, so it made the list of things to do that day. It had actually been a while since I had stayed at Magic Kingdom until closing time. 

Tom Sawyer’s Island isn’t usually favored for Dapper Day. The dusty paths and barrel bridges are not ideal for fancy dresses and heels. We of course had already ditched our heels hours beforehand, and the dirt didn’t really bother us. The loud roar of our raft drowned out the murmurs of guests as we trekked over the water and to the island. The two of us skipped down swaying bridges, bounced on barrels, and relaxed in the shade of the trees for a while. 

As we took a break from the warm sun and crowds on the mainland, we looked up the menu for Cinderella’s Royal Table. It had occurred to me that I had never actually looked at what they served because I had written it off as impossible. Looking at the options made us even more excited. We talked quite a bit about how living at Walt Disney World is really the main reason we got the chance to go there. On a standard vacation, we wouldn’t have been able to change our plans up that much and probably wouldn’t have even checked for a table there. Even if we had, we’d most likely be vacationing during a time when we didn’t have to be in school or work, meaning the parks would be significantly more crowded. Magical moments happen on vacations all the time, of course, but spontaneously eating at Cinderella’s Royal Table with a roommate on a random day off between two work days was honestly the reason I went to do the Disney College Program. We then realized that Dana’s umbrella was missing and raced back to a raft to see if we could find it somewhere on the mainland. On the raft we realized that it was probably left behind at Big Thunder, so we asked a Cast Member there to check their Lost and Found. Sure enough, her umbrella was discovered. Another magical save.

The sun was starting to set over Magic Kingdom. The clouds turned pink and the lights on the buildings of Main Street started to flicker on. The morning’s high energy and fast paced atmosphere had relaxed into a calmer evening. Guests who had started their day with tons of plans and little time were now slowing down. Main Street was growing quieter as guests finished off their last few attractions before heading back to the castle to watch the final nighttime spectaculars. Dana and I headed to the train station for, of course, more pictures.

We took our time looking over Main Street from the train station. Watching the magic of the park from above was surreal. It felt like looking in from the outside. Cast Members at kiosks below were waving with Mickey gloves and taking a knee to trade pins with little guests. Fresh popcorn was popping. Guests were pointing out details to their families and friends, kids stared in awe at the majestic castle in the distance, and families were sitting down on the curb with ice cream just people watching from down below. Main Street is so simple, and yet still so magical. 

The sun disappeared but the warm humidity stuck around. Time passed and crowds gathered in front of the castle for the fireworks. Dana and I brainstormed a plan. Celebrate the Magic was always just before Wishes, the fireworks show at Magic Kingdom. Wishes was set to go off at 9:00pm and was about a 13 minute show. We were told to arrive for our reservation at Cinderella’s Royal Table 15 minutes early, so we needed to be on the other side of the castle by 9:45pm. It sounded easy enough. The trouble was, in order to help with crowd control, the castle was completely blocked off. Instead of being able to walk right through the castle from Main Street and straight on to Cinderella’s Royal Table, we would have to go around. The small pathway leading around the castle and right to Fantasyland was also blocked off, so our best bet was to go through Liberty Square and around. How fast we’d be able to do that was dependent on how fast the crowds were able to move after the fireworks. We contemplated skipping Celebrate the Magic, watching Wishes from behind the castle, and then heading to Cinderella’s Royal Table, but Celebrate was my favorite show and I definitely didn’t want to miss it on our incredibly magical day. I couldn’t think of a more magical way to end the day.

Cinderella Castle went dark, magical light instrumentals played, and a projection of Tinker Bell danced on the castle. My eyes instantly filled with tears. Just the day before, I had wished to go home. I had moved to Florida from Southern California with every intention of going back. But my parents had made the move to Texas shortly after I moved to Florida, so there was nothing much to go back to in SoCal. My girlfriend and I had planned to move in together in North Carolina, but I had only visited NC one time. I was excited, but it hardly felt like home. Everything had changed during my program. Not just me but everything I had expected my life to be. I wanted to call Walt Disney World my home, but I also constantly wanted to leave. That night, as the sketches of Walt flipped across the castle, the pressure of finding home released. Right then, I knew I was home. It wasn’t what I had always called home, but it was my new home, and it was magical. It wasn’t just Walt Disney World that was my home though. It was all of Orlando. I knew the best routes to get to work. I knew where to find the cheapest gas. I had my favorite grocery store and knew exactly where to find everything. I went to nearby concerts, clubs, malls, restaurants, etc. An evening out didn’t just mean going to the parks. Sometimes we all went out to Cheesecake Factory because it was nearby and we all loved it. We lived normal lives with just an extra touch of magic. I knew right then that even though I hadn’t always had the best time on my program, I was one of the lucky ones. Dana and I usually would have been singing every word along with the show, but we were silenced to tears as we both thought about how magical our lives had become. The darkness only lasted a moment before Wishes began. I’m not one to get emotional over Wishes, but that night I was a wreck. Tinker Bell flew overhead, flares shot over the castle recreating the image we grew up seeing before our favorite movies, and Jiminy Cricket reminded us to wish upon a star and dream. Wishes ended and while the crowd cheered and paused to take pictures in front of the castle, Dana and I weaved through towards Liberty Square. Of course we had 30 minutes to walk around, so we really had plenty of time, but we were so nervous about losing our table that we didn’t hesitate. We got there early enough to stop and stare at the back of the castle. 

Just a floor above the entry way of the castle sat one of the most popular restaurants in Walt Disney World. The large windows shone brightly on Fantasyland as guests inside enjoyed a magical dinner. I had imagined what the inside looked like for years. I had wondered what the view looked like from the inside of the castle. I had taken as many pictures of the back of the castle as I had the front. I had also always walked away from it, knowing I’d probably never have the chance to really know. That night, we were going to find out. It probably seems silly to people to hear how excited we were about a restaurant, but the chance to be inside the castle, even if it’s just for a moment, is something that most fans of the park long for. We paused to take pictures before walking up to the restaurant to check in.

I half expected the Cast Members to tell me it had all been a joke. I was sure that the pink slip of paper granting us access to our reservation would be lost somewhere in the park earlier that day. I really didn’t believe that any of it was real. I found the pink slip with our names on it and gave it to the Cast Member to check in. Waiting on a bench nearby was Kassidy, a friend of mine from my work location. She was waiting with her friend for a spontaneous late night reservation of her own and was just as shocked as we were to have gotten a table. We were told that we would be one of the last ones seated for the night and that we could take our time exploring the castle after we were done since the restaurant would be closed. Our table was ready almost immediately. 

We were let in through the large wooden doors and were told to walk on the red carpet towards Cinderella. The inside of the castle was beautiful. Stained glass windows were painted with the blue birds that had helped Cinderella wear her first formal dress. Swords were crossed behind a shield that bore one of the many coat of arms displayed inside the castle. Research dictates that over 40 coat of arms are displayed, each dedicated to a person important to the history of Disney. The tall ceilings and stone walls were lit by simple chandeliers. In the empty spaces around the windows hung large quilts with pieces of Cinderella’s story. Around the bend, stood Cinderella. 

To the left of Cinderella was a large regal fireplace. Behind her were tall royal blue curtains that fell behind some tall swirling plants. A photographer snapped pictures for families as excited princesses raced up to Cinderella for a hug. The line was short, but we wouldn’t have cared if it were long because there was so much to look at. Our turn approached and we walked up to meet her. She welcomed us to her castle, complimented our princess dresses, and wished us a magical evening. 

The photographer guided us to the staircase wrapped in stone in front of us. The blue carpet was covered in pixie dust from all the princesses that had makeovers in Bibbidi Bobbidi Boutique before making their way to Cinderella’s Royal Table. The stone walls opened themselves up to a small balcony that overlooked Cinderella’s meet and greet below. It was already almost entirely empty.

I took pictures of absolutely everything, refusing to forget the detailing inside. Before we got to the dining hall, we found the restrooms. I was once told to always go inside the restroom of a fancy restaurant because you’ll never know what you’ll find. I was actually told this for the first time at Club 33 at Disneyland by a waiter who could tell it was a once-in-a-liftetime experience for us.  The second time I heard it was on the Disney Dream on a tour of the reservation-only restaurants. Inside the women’s restroom were gold-plated sinks. Actual gold. From then on I have been convinced that Disney hides some of their best detailing in restrooms that are off the beaten path. I told Dana this and we both agreed to go inside and check them out. It was pretty but nothing too spectacular. 

Finally we walked up the rest of the stairs to the dining hall. It was glorious. The middle of the dining hall was slightly lower than the outskirts of the restaurant. Flags and lights filled the open ceiling over head. The windows overlooking Fantasyland were dark with the night sky, revealing just the twinkling lights of the carrousel below. We were sat at a table on the elevated outskirts of the restaurant and greeted by our waiter. Our visible excitement was enough to earn us both a Wishing Star and a magic wand, gifts that are usually saved for much younger princesses. The waiter set our menus down in front of us, introduced us to the restaurant, informed us of how the character meet and greet would go, and left to let us soak everything in.

Shortly after, an announcement was made to the entire restaurant. The princesses were arriving. I have done a few character dining experiences in my life, but never a princess one. To me, they’ve always been a little awkward. While you’re eating, the characters come up to say hi and get a picture. It results in an awkward pause in whatever you’re eating and a weird shuffling around the tables to get the picture you want. I was worried Cinderella’s Royal Table would feel like that, but it was perfectly executed. There was plenty of space to get up and take pictures with them and nothing felt rushed. Everybody in the restaurant applauded as the princesses walked in and started making their rounds to the different tables. 

Snow White, seeing the cupcakes on my dress, asked if I enjoyed baking. She invited me to come over and bake with her and the dwarfs any time! After that, Ariel and Dana twirled in their fluffy skirts together. There had never been a more magical dinner.

The food, of course, had also been fantastic. My favorite part was the themed dessert. Dana and I made sure to get different ones so we could experience as much of menu as we could. I got a lemon dessert that was incredible. Dana and I both thought it tasted like something (besides just lemon of course) but we couldn’t put our finger on it. We started just calling it lemon magic because everything inside the castle was probably made of pure magic anyway. 

As we were eating, the wishing ceremony took place. I had never heard of the wishing ceremony before. The only reason I knew about the wishing stars was because my roommate had obtained a few during her time in the castle. The castle grew silent as we were told to make a wish on our wishing stars and wave our wands in the air. Dana and I waved and waved them around as the ceiling above us twinkled with all of our wishes. Unfortunately, our waiter was un-phased by the event and tried to ask us questions during the ceremony. I don’t think he realized that two young adults would be very into it considering it was geared towards the younger ones. We brushed him off until he got the hint and stood to the side, waiting for us to be done wishing. While it bothered us at first, the overall magic of the day was enough to make us forgive him. After all, he probably saw the wishing ceremony hundreds of times a day and at a certain point, I’ll bet it just becomes part of the noise. I felt lucky that I hadn’t lost that much of the magic. 

By the time we were done, the restaurant was almost empty. We double checked with the waiter to see if it was okay if we roamed the castle to take pictures. Luckily the tables against the windows were almost entirely cleared out, so we walked right up to the glass to get the best view of Fantasyland. 

We made our way down the sparkled blue steps and paused for more pictures. With no guests trying to make their way up or down, we were able to take as many pictures as we wanted. The Cast Members were all really nice too, probably very used to overly-excited guests capturing every possible magical moment they could. 

Downstairs, Cinderella was no longer welcoming guests to her castle. There was nobody around the large echoey room. I wondered if we could get pictures at Cinderella’s picture spot before leaving. Dana walked right up and sat down, figuring that anything they didn’t want touched would be blocked off. I couldn’t imagine finishing my meal and walking back down to seeing guests still in line to meet her. I would have left wanting more pictures, more time, and more freedom than the structure that’s in place during the day. The empty castle was part of what made the night so magical for us, and I couldn’t have asked for a better experience.

We walked out of the castle overwhelmed by the night. Neither of us could believe that we had just twirled with princesses in Cinderella Castle, eating pure magic while wishing on a star, and finishing it off by skipping through an almost empty castle. I completely forgot that Magic Kingdom had already closed for the night and was working towards emptying the park while we were upstairs. The area was empty and we took the opportunity to take even more pictures.

Main Street looked beautiful with all the lights shining on a completely empty street. The music seemed louder than ever with no guests nearby chatting or screaming. There were no ECV horns sounding, no crowds to work our way through, nobody standing in our pictures... just the sound of the famous Main Street music as we walked towards the front of the park. We turned around to get one last look of the castle, standing tall, lit beautifully, with nobody around. It was hard to imagine that we were just inside that very building, eating and wishing and dancing with princesses. In fact it was hard to believe any of the magic that had happened that day. It truly is the Most Magical Place on Earth, and that day, we felt so lucky to call it home.

*I found out that pictures become blurry when viewed on the dashboard. If viewed directly on the blog page, the blurry images become clear again. I’ve looked up work arounds as the image quality issue only happens in text posts when viewed on the dashboard, but the workarounds have failed me.*

[neytinintransit]

the o.g. six-two-six (tbc.)

“gonna be a short one because not n’uff time and nothing too profound happened”

- Me

---

I have a confession. During my travels, I really did not have n’uff time to write out these long-winded rambles about the shit I was doing everyday. Instead of cooping myself up in some cafe or room for 2 hours a trip to cook up some moody soul-talk (taipeing in taipei amirite), I chose to stack up on experiences. Most these words you’re reading were spun from the tips of my fingers in sunny California, but I did write little footnotes to capture the important parts. I knew I wouldn’t be able to rely on my memory bank to accurately share my experiences- Eric and I killed of too many of our braincells for that type of work. 

That quote up top is word-for-word all I had down for Taipei, and originally, that’s what this post was going to be about. Just some hyped-up, elongated Instagram post with not-so-clever captions. Four weeks out and looking back, I think I want to steer the post in a slightly different direction. Instead, I wanted to focus on this concept of brotherhood. I do have a brother that I care for and love very much, but this is for another type of brotha. That’s right, Eric, this one’s for you- think of it as some amped-up, bromantic version of the Adventures of Erthan Slohng. You know that thing where you start syncing up with someone if you spend too much time with them? Well that happened to us a lot, but I’ll save that for later. 

After landing in Taiwan, I managed to use the remnants of my broken Chinese to get us to our Airbnb. Surprisingly, the place we booked in Taiwan ended up being the nicest place we stayed at throughout our entire trip. Skipping over the fact that I’m wearing a tank-top hoodie and wiping my sweat with my shirt, you’ll notice the wide, spacious bedroom we had. Not pictured but also a positive addition to the dopeness of the location was the living room, kitchen, and in-house washer-dryer. 

Luckily, we landed with plans set to meet up with some friends that were working in Taipei for the summer. Before that, though, Eric and I decided to put a little rocking to the large bed we were blessed with. You guessed it: intense, hardcore ab workouts. After sharing my summer goals with Eric, he pulled out this little ab-workout app and set it to max-difficulty. That was probably the first and last time we worked out that entire trip, but I promise you I felt it in my core long enough to justify all the food we ate in the following weeks. 

To negate the whole workout, we had our friends take us out to grab some bomb munchies at the night markets nearby. Luckily, the spot we booked out was in the Zhongshan district, which was pretty central and close to Taipei 101. In a few minutes, I was able to down a solid dinner and some more. Unfortunately, my phone was dying so I couldn’t take too many pictures, but my man Eric here was able to capture this little gem.

It’s a sausage wrapped in another sausage. Like a turducken, but sausage style. Of all things, leave it up to Eric to pick out something like this. No lie, that shit was dank. Looking at that monstrosity of a hotdog makes me crave one right now. Among other things, we had some good egg tart (蛋挞), stinky tofu (臭豆腐), and 驴肉饭 (sorry idk the english translation but it’s some braised pork over rice thing that I love). We then skipped on home and food coma’d shortly after.

Besides being a place where the number one attraction revolves around eating everything (in)edible, Taiwan is apparently also known for its sulfuric hot springs scattered throughout the mountains. As per recommendation of the (now) homie James Chen, Eric and I made a trip up to Xinbeitou (新北投), where a majority of the major communal hot springs are located. Even though we weren’t far into our trip, travel took a lot out of us, and some communal bathing in a 100°F tub of relaxation did not sound like something to pass up on (though I was reluctant to make a public display of the disaster of a belly I grew over the trip). Looking back, we probably could’ve used a hot spring treatment or two at all of our destinations.

As you can see from the not-so-inconspicuous bead of sweat on Eric’s forehead, these springs were hot. You can see the steam, and the place was littered with large, red “DO NOT FALL” signs. On top of that, the whole place smelled of sulfur, since sulfur is the source of the spring’s healing factors. Just in case you didn’t know, sulfur is also what makes your farts smell bad.

Since Xinbeitou is a spot where both tourists and locals go to bathe and relax, the whole area is modeled as a sort of exhibit about the history of hot springs and how they this and that and that and this and ye. Eric and I probably fall into the bucket of basic tourists that travel for the gram and don’t really dig deep into the culture of each place because we’re only there for a few days; but hey, at least we’re in that bucket together. And we do try, sometimes. After exploring whatever there was to explore, we set a goal to find a hot spring to hop into. Unfortunately, we managed to time our trip during some Taiwanese holiday, so most of the hot springs were closed. We walked past a few of the ones we read about that had good reviews, but those were the ones you had to go in with a birthday suit. Luckily, we stumbled across Millennium Hot Springs on the way back. Even though we prepared (for once!) and wore swim trunks, they still made us purchase speedos for the hot springs. It’s probably how they make all their money, since the entrance fee was pretty cheap. I was pretty reluctant at first, but we reasoned out the purchase as a little souvenir, which means that I now own a much-too-tight, way-too-small speedo that I hopefully won’t ever have a reason to wear again. Before we went in, Eric snapped this photo of me in the little dojo/museum/gallery section of the hot spring:

To be honest, I thought it was a pretty shitty photo, but Eric wouldn’t stop raving about how “badass I looked in my dojo,” so I’m putting it here in his honor. I got you broseff.

As expected, the majority of the population was made up of older, retired locals who probably came here to relax and pass time. And to our surprise, the community was very kind and trustworthy. When we went in, one of the old men told us that it was fine to leave all of our belongings in one of the open cubbies, and then encouraged us to hurry into the hot springs before we ran out of time. You’d expect a few naive tourists to be easy targets in a highly touristed spot with plenty of locals, and to be honest, I was extremely skeptical. But like the idiots we are, we left ALLLLLL our shit there. I mean, we still kept an eye on it while we were in the springs, but it was still all our shit. And when we got out, it was still there. The old man said he had been watching over it, and he was glad we were able to enjoy our time there.

Rewinding it back to the important part, sitting in that spring was really something else. You’d think that you’d feel just as nice if you cranked up the hot water in a bathtub and slipped in, but trust me- there’s something intangible about the sense of comfort and warmth you get from the hot springs. Man, if only I had my camera out to snap a few photos of Eric’s face when he was relaxing in the water. It’s a different level in relaxation. In fact, there were exactly three levels, increasing in temperature the further up you went. I think the top pool hit around 104°F, which apparently isn’t even that hot to the locals. You’re supposed to spend a little bit of time in the previous spring before moving up to get your body acclimated to the temperature, but I legit saw some people hop right in. They also had a cold pool for people who wanted to bring their body temperature back to a more stable state. Eric and I loved hopping between the hot and cold springs. It’s sort of like going between the jacuzzi and pool back in the day when we had those pool parties. 

Part-way through our bath, it started raining. The contrast between the hot spring water and the cool rain also felt unreal. It was like taking that first bite into that perfect pizookie you ordered at BJs, fresh out of the oven. Anyway, both the rain and the fact that Millennium was closing was a clear sign for us to pack our bags (which were still there!!!) and leave.

If you know me well-enough, meaning somewhere in between the stranger and the best friend, you’ll know that I love large bodies of water. Even though it was raining, Eric and I decided to move from one pool to another, slightly bigger pool. We headed up to Tamsui, a coastal region of Taipei with a pretty massive boardwalk and a number of small shops and street vendors nearby. The whole place was mad cute, and the views were nice. 

You can’t really see it, but the ocean was even more beautiful in the rain. There’s something about large bodies of water that place me in a sort of meditative state. And while I was off, deep in thought about whether or not I should trust the cuttlefish vendor selling fried snacks on the sidewalk, Eric was doing this:

Also, doesn’t he look kind of weird here: 

Cuttlefish was a little sketch, but nonetheless, I purchased and devoured a generous amount only to regret it a few hours later. Since we had our fair share of snacking and exploration, we figured that the next logical move was obviously to hit up another night market and eat some more. And that’s exactly what we did.

We went to the Shihlin district, which supposedly housed one of the bigger night markets in Taipei. A few eventful things happened that night: Eric got another one of those sausage things, I had so many egg tarts that I lost count, and Eric tried his first durian that was way over-priced and totally not worth it. But it was still low-key worth it, since I got him to understand a bit more of what I grew up with. Here’s my pug-ass face biting into the $10 dolla piece of gold:

After eating our fill, our better judgment took us to this hotpot joint. The line was pretty long, but the food was mad cheap. It was like Boiling Point, but legit in all the ways Boiling Point wasn’t. If you can ignore Eric’s massive swol and focus on the pot, you’ll know what I mean:

And with that, we finally decided we were at our limit and headed home for the night. Here’s Eric regretting his decisions:

I’m not sure if I mentioned this, but when we were in Japan, I met Eric’s friends Lucy and Yi who also happened to be on a post-grad Asia trip. After leaving Japan, they were both signed up for this teaching program in Taiwan, and their stay in Taipei happened to overlap with ours. Surprisingly, one of my friends from home was also at the same program. One thing I’ve learned from traveling through the past few years is that circles do run incredibly small. There was even a time in Barcelona where I ran into a few high school friends in the middle of the beach. If you’ve ever been to a crowded beach in Barcelona during the summer, you’ll understand how crazy that is.

Anyway, Eric and I couldn’t really pass up on so many familiar faces, so we made sure to slot them into our plans. I forgot the name of the school, but the campus was pretty spacious and scenic. Lucy and Yi seemed happy, but my friend mentioned that she felt like a bit of a prisoner there. I was really worried for her, but I was glad to find out later that the rest of the program went pretty well. Partway through my conversation with her, one of her roommates urged us to climb up to the rooftop with her. And you know how I am with rooftops.

Needless to say, the view was breath-taking. After talking a bit more, we said our goodbyes and headed off on our way. 

Taiwan summer-time heat is hot. Being the smart travelers we are, Eric and I completely disregarded this fact and decided to walk to the nearest subway stop even though it was over half an hour away. I remember moments I genuinely believed that we wouldn’t make it. It reminded me a bit of the time where Eric and I went on the “Bridge to Nowhere” hike in California. Shit was rough.

In case you were wondering, we did make it. And of course, what came next was a necessity for anybody who steps foot in Taipei: some BOMBASS 鼎泰丰 (Ding Tai Feng) from its hometown. For those of you who don’t know, Ding Tai Feng is a relatively famous restaurant that originated in Taiwan, and they’re known for soup dumplings:

We ordered about six or seven orders of the soup dumps and some beef noods soup before topping it all off with some milk tea from 春水堂, the O.G. creator of boba itself. Here’s a poorly shot photo of the well made drank:

In Taiwan, you’re not allowed to bring opened drinks or food onto public transportation. Since Eric and I clearly prioritized our boba above all else, we decided to do some quick shopping in the area before moving onto our next destination. Staying true to the theme of this post, I decided to purchase a Mickey shirt from Uniqlo to match Eric’s current outfit. All cringe and bromance aside, it was a good thing I purchased a second shirt. What came next was an hour-long, humid, summer-heated hike up Elephant mountain, and anyone who knows me knows how much I sweat. 

Out of everything we did in Asia, hiking always felt incredibly rewarding. It was more than the panoramic view you got once you hit the top (which by no means was anything short of amazing). Even though it was definitely unsanitary, we played with a number of stray dogs that, like all dogs, seemed to long for human interaction (and food). We joked about how we’d probably end up as cicada food every time these invisible bugs filled the otherwise rigid silence of the forest with the sharp, deafening sounds of their hiss. And, when we had a moment to breathe, we spoke about how this would be the last time in a while that we’d be able to take a trip like this. We were living without obligation, free to go wherever and do whatever we wanted. Free-spirited. I think that’s what they call it.

For me, that feeling was so wonderfully liberating, and it is one that will always remain embedded in the person I am. Nowadays, whenever Eric and I catch up, the nine-to-five (or in my case, eleven-to-seven) life rarely ever carries any excitement, but we always light up when we talk about our next adventure. If I ever do pack up my bags and wander somewhere, you best bet Eric’s the first person I’m taking along with me.

After wrapping up our photoshoot at the peak, we made our way over to Taipei 101. There, we met up with Michelle Yeh for dinner before going out for the night. One thing I learned from traveling in college is that it’s crazy how international my classmates were. From Europe to Asia, I was pretty much always able to find a friend in the city I was in. I wonder if that statement still holds true, or if the bulk of them are, like me, off in SF/NYC working their shiny new office jobs.

After dinner, we met up with James and Co. for a night out. The rest of the night wasn’t too eventful- just kind of weird. Somehow, Eric knew a promoter that was able to get us into Omni, one of the most popular clubs in Taipei which apparently doubled as a church on Sundays. Yep- after a Saturday night of drinking and dancing, the club kicks everyone out, cleans up, and opens the doors for Jesus. It was probably a combination of crab girl (lol), the crowd we were with, and that particular night we were out, but Omni was mad OK. It was our last night in Taiwan, though, so we tried to make the best of it and stayed out until the club was practically empty.

There were many things Eric and I overlooked when planning this trip. One of these many things included the discrepancy between checkout and flight times. For Taiwan, we were intelligent enough to book an Airbnb with an early checkout time and a flight that departed at night. That left a full day of crawling and walking around the city with our fifty-pound bags.

Welcome to suitcase hell*. If you look closely at our faces, you can tell that we’re absolutely ravaged. I don’t know if I made it clear before, but summer in Taiwan (and most of Asia) is hot. Add about half your body weight, a list of errands that took us all over Taipei, and a predisposition to sweating profusely, and you’ve got yourself a pretty rough day. 

The first leg of our trial had us trek back up to the international school. Long story short, I had to drop off a sim card for Brenda before leaving because she felt a bit trapped and had no consistent way of contacting the outside world. Next, we had to trip down to the southern of Taipei to return this metrocard that I borrowed from James. Now that I’m writing all this out, I guess a good number of these errands were because of me. Whoops.

<Draw a map of the journey so people get the pain>

Though painful, we did have some pretty interesting experiences while running around city. On the way up to Brenda, we somehow ended up in this abandoned underground mall. In these wide-open basements, there were several dance teams rehearsing and training- it looked like a scene out of some movie. I feel like if I ever lived in Taiwan, I would definitely find some way to get involved in this scene. After making all that distance with weight on our backs, we were starving. Luckily, we stumbled upon the most famous 卤肉饭 joint in the city and ended up eating three large bowls each. Finally, we accidentally stumbled upon this gem right here:

You know that thing about how you start syncing up with someone if you’re around them too often? Well if you hadn’t already noticed, Eric and I are once again matching, but this time it was unintentional. We definitely experienced turbulence, but the trip would not have been nearly as fun and fulfilling without him (and all the stupid shit we laughed at). The memories I have from this trip will probably be some of the happiest of my life, and I’m glad I was able to share it with him.

(tbt to high school).

If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the past few months of “adulthood,” it’s that making and maintaining close relationships becomes much more difficult as you age. Even though we’re living pretty different lives in different cities across the country, I’m still able consider Eric as one of my closest friends, and I’m grateful for that. 

* We later discovered that the host would have been fine with us leaving our bags at the place, but we were already in too deep to turn back.