#so I left Costco and started to cry for no reason?

[lovelytsunoda]

does anyone else cry their eyes out after a slightly negative social interaction or is that just me?

[lostintransist]

Liaison | 3 - Costco Is Not For The Weak

Check out the part 1 or part 2.

Wandering into the kitchen on a break, you let your thoughts drift back to the second week on the job. You couldn’t work on your own yet and Kate had to be off-site for a meeting, leaving you with nothing to do. She had left you a book of names and faces to memorize but that tedious task did not appeal. That day Gaz tapped you to go to Costco with him and Harold, the receptionist.

“Come on,” he cajoled, “We need someone who can lift heavy things.”

Gaz’s easy manners and quick smile helped you feel at ease, and you liked Harold. He reminded you of what you expected it to be like having a grandpa.

“Fine, but I will be buying things I need for the office too.”

Gaz leveraged himself up using the desk. He had said when he picked you up from the airport that he had taken some shrapnel to the thigh and Doc wouldn’t clear him until PT said he could run on it.

“What kind of things would you need for the office?” He offers you a hand up.

You decline with a shake of your head and uncurl yourself from the office chair.

“Well, a better office chair for one. But I will be taking a lot of phone calls and I need something to do while those are going on so I figured I could make cookies, breads, and the like. The kneading dough will be a good way to avoid yelling at senators.”

Gaz let out a bark of laughter, “Good luck with that.”

Harold drove them to Costco, navigating the streets like a veteran. He chatted away about his garden, the growing conditions, and the soil’s acidity. Soaking in his voice’s warm timbre, you learn more about plants than you did before the drive started. You and Harold both flash a membership card, much to his delight. You spend the remainder of the trip pointing out the differences from a US Costco as Harold and even Gaz had many questions.

Harold, upon hearing of your penchant for baking, bought a full set of bowls, spoons, and baking trays.

“My late wife loved to bake,” Harold stares down sadly at the bread tin in his hand. “She’s been gone seven years and it still feels like she will walk through the front door with a smile and an apology for being late.”

“How long were you married, Harold?” Gaz asks as he rearranges the cart for the third time.

“Forty-two years with my Sharron, I don’t know that ninety years would have been enough.” The longing in his voice moved you to tears.

Gaz, aghast and concerned loudly points out the fact you are crying.

“Why are you crying?”

“Oh just leave me alone Gaz, it’s the Costco prices getting to me. Costco is not for the weak.” You fan your eyes, attempting to dry out the tears. “Harold, what is your favorite thing your wife would bake?”

“Peach pie, dear are you sure you are okay?” He pulls you into a side hug.

“I’ll be okay. Something about how much you love your wife just caught me in a tender spot is all.” A watery laugh and a sniffle seem to reassure both men. You take the handkerchief that Harold offers and wipe at your nose. “I’ll return this once it is clean. Now we have a lot left to buy so let’s go.”

The trip took several hours between the slow walking speed of Gaz and Harold and the excessive list Harold had. The cabinets and fridge were kept full as many members of the team would roll in hungry off jobs and would often sleep in some of the side offices set up for that reason. You hadn’t seen any of them yet but were told they were locked from the inside and indicated if they were in use.

“We all work such wonky schedules that sometimes a nap is needed to get through the paperwork,” Gaz groused.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Hopefully, I won’t need to use it.”

The side eye Gaz sent you said you would be using it, and often. He turned out to be right.

Checkout went smoothly, if a bit long. When the total rang up on the screen the comma caused you to wince. Harold swiped the company credit card without a hint of concern. With how much money the company made on a single man job you shouldn’t have worried.

The drive back to the office had been a tight fit. Once the boot of the car had been filled Harold instructed you in his best grandpa voice to get buckled in and he would load things in for you to hold. He did the same to Gaz.

“That’s it, Harold, you can’t wait so long between trips,” he let out a heavy oof as a box of protein drinks is set on his lap.

“Mr. Gaz I am an old man and unless you can convince Mr. Shepard to let me have the items delivered I must wait until someone can come with me,” Harold chides him gently.

You let out a small snort. Gaz flicks your ear while Harold is making another run to the cart at the back of the car.

“I will bite you,” you snarl at him.

You and Gaz had clicked into a sibling relationship so quickly it could be called concerning. It probably came from how he would sit and bother you as you were trying to work between his physical therapy appointments. He had broken three pens, a stapler, and a staple puller. The last one still didn’t make sense to you. How does one break such a simple tool? One of the extra purchases included a collection of small baskets that you would fill with fidgets for Gaz and others to play with.

Harold shut the doors and returned the cart. When he settled into the driver’s seat you caught sight of the time.

“I can help get as much in as I can, but I have a meeting with Kate in about forty-five minutes. Anything you can’t put away before you leave I can handle after my meeting. Anything that is for me if you wouldn’t mind leaving it on the counter. I can clear out a cabinet for my baking supplies.”

“I can do that for you dear, Gaz and I can handle moving everything in, we have a flat trolley for trips like this,” Harold replied.

Part 2 | AO3 (Up to chapter 27 as of this post)

Masterlist

[catierambles]

Alternate Instincts Ch.23

I deleted the first posting of this because I forgot Ch.22 and didn't want it to be out of order in the tag on my page. Chapter 22 has been posted btw

The move went relatively smoothly, Walter and Stephanie throwing out Frank’s old mattress and replacing it with his from the cabin. Other than that, he really didn’t have a lot of things that needed to be moved over. Sy would be living part time in Stephanie’s old apartment as it was technically his territory now, rotating spending a couple weeks there and a couple weeks in the cabin. The transition also went mostly well, the rest of the pack being understandably wary about being under the control of another male Alpha, but Mike assuaged their concerns telling them that Sy was not like Frank, not even remotely.

Sy had cleaned Frank out, taking almost all of the money in both his checking and savings. It wasn’t nearly the amount that he had originally taken from the pack, as he had blown most of it on high end electronics and other luxuries for himself, but banking information was taken down and what was left was divided up among the pack. Didn’t amount to much, in the end, but it was something and they could start to rebuild. Stephanie offered the use of her Costco membership card once they had a good buffer so they could get bulk essentials somewhere down the line.

Walter let her know that they had also “convinced” him to confess to the Council what he had been doing, and that Frank was now blacklisted from ever running a pack or owning territory. He would be set up with employment and a place to live in his hometown, his wages being garnished until the books were even, but then he was on his own. Sink or swim. Oddly enough, Stephanie and the others couldn’t bring themselves to care what ultimately became of him. Imagine that.

Stephanie lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Walter was sound asleep next to her, but she was wide awake. She could blame it on the new environment, different mattress, different sounds, but she knew it wasn't that. Everything was a little too...perfect. The guys were a little too...everything. Yes, August had his moments, but they were all a little too understanding, too supportive. It didn't feel real. It felt as if she were perpetually waiting for something to happen. Waiting for the other shoe to drop, or the sword to fall. Waiting for them to decide she wasn't what they wanted, that they were wrong about her being their Mate. They were mistaken, that this "shadow" inside her only made them think she was their Mate. Waiting for them to realize they didn't love her, not really, not truly.

Was it nice being with them? Understatement. They were incredible, even when August was being a donkey. Who would hurt her first, she wondered. August immediately came to mind, how they clashed at times when her mouth got away from her. No, not him. She’d see it coming with him. Sy? Maybe not intentionally. Mike seemed more the “hurt verbally not physically” type. Walter? He would need to be pushed. Geralt. Probably Geralt. He was too glacially calm all the time, his face nearly always an impassive mask, but he was capable of violence. He was a Tracker, he killed Ferals for a living. He’d snap, that glacial calm evaporating and then...

She sighed, running a hand over her face. She loved them, and they loved her, or so they said, but Jordan told her he loved her and that didn’t stop him.

But he’s a Feral. Said the voice of reason, but it was being drowned out by the voice telling her to run before they hurt her.

Walter turned over to face her, pulling her into his arms sleepily and burying his face in her neck.

“Love you.” He said and she felt like crying. Tears actually did sting her eyes, but she blinked rapidly to clear them. He must have felt something in the way she clung to him because his eyes opened, focusing on her in concern. “Love?”

“Please don’t be like him.” She nearly begged it and she watched his heart break just a little bit.

“Never.” He said, his hand coming up to hold the side of her jaw as he leaned in to kiss her. "Not ever." He pressed his forehead to hers, his eyes closed tight as she sobbed quietly.

Walter left her sleeping the next morning, easing the bedroom door closed as he dug his phone out of his sleep pants pocket, heading into the kitchen as he selected a contact.

“Yeah Walt.” Sy said when he picked up.

“Are the others there?” He asked and there was a pause.

“You’re on speaker.” Sy said.

“Steph, she—” He sighed, “She did a threat assessment on us last night. She told me after I got her through a panic attack.”

“She what?” Mike asked.

“Shit.” Sy sighed, “Who was at the top of the list?”

“Geralt.”

“What?” Geralt asked.

“August she would see it coming, be able to de-escalate before it got that far. Mike, you wouldn’t hurt her physically, but you would tear her down mentally.”

“No I wouldn’t!”

“Abuse response, Mikey, don’t take it personal.” Sy said.

“Markus, you and I would only after a lengthy argument.”

“Why me?” Geralt asked, his tone controlled.

“Because you’re calm.” Walter said, “And you would be calm until—”

“Until I wasn’t.” He finished.

“Yeah.” Walter said and Geralt gave a growling sigh.

“Fuck.” He said.

“I’m going to kill him.” August said, “Council wants him alive, but I don’t fucking care what they want. He dies next time he shows his face.”

“Get in line.” Geralt said.

“Haven’t we been—” Mike started. “I mean, things have been good, yeah?”

“Mike, I can fuckin’ promise you things were good with Lewis, too, in the beginning.” Sy said.

“And then they weren’t.” Mike said, “Shit. I need to go over there. I need to see her.”

“She’s still asleep.” Walter said.

“We’re comin’ over.” Sy said, “See you in a bit.” The call ended and Walter sighed, running his fingers through his curls before heading back into the bedroom. Sliding back into bed, he pulled her into his arms, tucking his face in her shoulder.

“Morning.” She said blearily.

“Morning.” He mumbled in return, “The others are on their way.”

“Okay.” She said, laying her hands on his arms. “You’re warm.”

"Do you want breakfast?" He asked but she shook her head.

"Not hungry." She said, "Just tired."

"Get some rest then, love."

Stephanie didn't know when she had drifted off again, but when she woke next, Geralt was in bed with her, holding her in his arms, his fingers running gently through her hair.

"Hey." She said and his lips pressed to her forehead.

"Never." He said, "Never hurt you."

"I know." She said simply, "It's just..."

"I understand." He said, "Sleep."

She drifted in and out of awake and asleep all day, and whenever she woke, someone different was in bed with her. To their credit, they didn't make moves on her, knowing that now was definitely not the time.

It was night when she woke again, Sy asleep next to her, his face half buried in the pillow as he lay on his stomach. She watched him for a bit before getting up gently, sliding out of bed and heading to the attached bathroom. Coming back out, she left the bedroom, the TV on in the dark living room but at a low volume. They were asleep, sprawled out on the floor or the couch, curled up in the recliner, the screen casting odd shadows on their faces as the images flickered across it. Take out containers, Chinese food, littered the living room and kitchen. Fried rice, lo mein, a couple different variations of chicken. There was an untouched container of chicken and mushrooms on the kitchen counter and she knew it was for her, as they knew it was her favorite.

She didn't deserve them.

They deserved someone better than her.

She needed air.

Slipping on her flats, she left the apartment quietly, heading into the breezeway that ran the length of the building. She knew she was overthinking it, she knew they weren't like him, that they wouldn't hurt her intentionally. That they would never hurt her, but she--

Pain blossomed from her cheekbone, sending her to the ground, her head bouncing off the concrete.

Mike snapped awake, looking around the apartment.

"Steph?" He called out, but there was no answer. Getting up, he went into the bedroom, but Sy was alone in bed. "Stephanie?" He went into the bathroom, but it was empty. The second bedroom that she and Walter were using as an office was also empty and dark, the computer turned off. "Steph?" A sinking feeling was building in his chest.

She breathed through the pain, hearing him walk around her.

"Oh, Stephanie." Jordan said, "Whatever am I going to do with you?"

[creative-chaos-apparently]

Because I think it is funny here’s a list of stupid things I experience because of anxiety:

Sometimes I feel like the floor is bouncing/swaying under me and I have to ask if we are having an earthquake (I live in the middle of the Midwest and this is impossible)

Deathly afraid of dead- not live- bugs (this is a phobia but it makes the list because NOBODY else has this issue)

I have slap yeeted my glow-in-the-dark firefly plushie across my room several times in the dead of night because I woke up with something glowing nearby and thought aliens were invading

Whenever I begin an anxiety attack my roommate has started placing a plush Kirby in my hands as if he is a cure-all (it sometimes helps) and once I just cried while holding a Kirby out like he was a hamburger

Phantom beeping/music auditory problems where I’m left trying to figure out why I can hear Lord Huron playing threateningly from somewhere nearby like boss music (it isn’t actually)

Had a panic attack in a Costco three times now, and roommate has deemed I am no longer allowed at Costco

Have to dunk my face in a bowl of water some nights so I don’t end up freaking out for no reason

Many concerns about if my plushies (inanimate objects) feel loved equally by me

If I talk too long about something I start physically trembling and spasming all over like an overstimulated chihuahua on redbull

No longer allowed coffee past 5 PM by roommate because of too many caffeine powered insomnia nights

Roommate sometimes tosses her frog plushie at me in good fun and gentle tease but on one occasion it made me cry due to incoming panic attack. Bean the frog got put in time out for this.

Sweat so hard during last therapy session that I stuck to my chair

[lifewithoutmeds]

September 8, 2023

5:33 p.m.

today is friday afternoon. it was a working friday and i was at home, where i worked til a bit after 4.

recap of the last few days: tuesday, 9/5/2023: work, then facetime with kelda. i think i forced myself to eat a carrot and some cauliflower. if i recollect, i think i was feeling pretty bad this day. definitely cried on the phone with kelda. i also had a really bad stomachache since the morning, likely from eating so much Gouda and flaming hot cheetos. i was having trouble discerning between heartache or stomachache. wednesday, 9/6/2023: work in the office. i was very productive, took a few walks, and ate a discounted Ralph's salad for lunch. not sure what i did when i came home but was surprised by an unexpected knock on my door around 7 and it turned out to be none other than AT! i was so so glad to see him. i welcomed him in, we chatted a bit, drank a few beers, i rinsed and cut up some cauliflower and carrots for him, and then we went on a walk around the neighborhood where he admired the beautiful houses and one tree in particular that was quite grandiose i suppose. *NO CRYING.

thursday, 9/7/2023: this was a pretty nothing day. i woke up very tired and for some reason decided to eat a bunch of flaming hot cheetos instead of my usual water/hydration, then coffee, then intermittent fasting until about 10 or 11 a.m. so instead i just was very sleepy all day and was barely able to stay awake and finally knocked out a lunch nap, read a bunch of terrible articles on facebook, then knocked out again around 5, then still managed to sleep around 7/8pm, falling asleep to true crime youtube videos (specifically the channel Coffeehouse Crime.) *NO CRYING.

friday, 9/8/2023 (today): i laid in bed a bit longer than usual, but finally dragged myself out and told myself to make the bed to get this day started right. i'm not sure if it was the making of the bed per se, or if it was whatever mentality i had that pushed me to make the bed in the first place, but for whatever the reason, i was ultra-productive today. i did some work, took out the trash and recycling, washed a few loads of dishes, ran the vacuum a couple times, and spent 50 minutes just generally picking up around the condo. i also reached out to lorena and she ended up swinging by with some delicious chirashi and we caught up for a few minutes, which was really nice. resolved to watch the office, read, walk, and journal after work.

SIGNS OF PROGRESS: ENTERTAINMENT: i started watching "The Office" DVD. i was pretty disappointed with the cringey nature of the first couple episodes of the first season, but it's slowly picking up some momentum. i think i've watched maybe 4 episodes now? i try to watch 1-2 a day. as "therapy" per kelda's suggestion. REFRIGERATOR: this has been gross for some time. i had an old can of black beans that spilled at some point that i only half wiped up then it dried up so there's like this weird dry caked dust on one of the shelves. actually it's still there, but i did go through the fridge for a few minutes and took out some pyrex/tupperware containers that have held long-expired foods like a breakfast sausage, some sort of spinach-like banchan, and really gnarly dduk (rice ovalettes.) this left a lot of extra room so i was able to put in all my costco water bottles and consequently, take them off of the floor.

CAMPBOX: this has effectively been right by my door since late May, but i finally opened it up, and went through it a bit. i took out the dishes and things that could benefit from a wash so that i can wash/dry and put back in the bin, so i can actually put the bin away! i will also have to shake out and refold the tent, but then i can put that away too and there will be a clear space by my door.

BEDROOM: i haven't picked up anything from the floor since late may, and so it hasn't been vacuumed at all. so it's pretty gross. everything is covered with dust and the floor has a lot of my hair. again, i can't run the vacuum because there's just so much stuff still in there like random clothing and camping things, so i finally scooped up an armful of clothes that i figured, clean or not, were probably in need of a clean just from lying on the floor for three months. the floor is not 100% clear but is maybe 20% clearER which is PROGRESS.

DESIRE TO PURCHASE THINGS: i bought a bunch of books on amazon earlier this week. most were recommended reading for breakups/heartache, and one was highly recommended by oppah. i also realized that i was running out of writing paper, so i've spent some time looking for 8.5x11 notebook paper and spiral notebooks, and am shocked to find that they're extremely expensive, that is, like $3-$4, whereas an 8x10 notebook literally costs $0.35. very strange. it's such a shame that i would likely prefer to spend 10x more just to get the size paper that i'm used to, but here we are. lastly, i looked into whether there were any concerts i might enjoy from my favorite musicians, namely lana del rey, the xx, and tegan and sara. surprisingly, tegan and sara had just announced that they were going on a short tour around Ontario (Canada) to play one of their older albums in their entirety and i started wondering whether i should go check them out. i hadn't seen them in years, and could make a trip out of it. it'll take a lot of planning and prepping, as they're playing a bunch of shows in neighborhoods that i'm not familiar with, so i'll have to check out each and see capacity, seating arrangements, proximity to airport, etc. but i hope i will go. i remember in 2009 i went to vancouver to see tegan and sara for the first time and i'll sort of be like that again. a person willing to go see things and travel on my own. a person curious about the world.

LOOKING INTO VOLUNTEERING Places I'm considering: Burbank Animal Shelter Los Angeles LGBT Center Downtown Women's Shelter Various Glendale opportunities - senior centers, trail maintenance. On the one hand, i want to review all in terms of schedules, commitment, proximity, etc., but maybe i should just try them all (but one at a time.) like, commit 6 months to one. then 6 months to another. cycle through them within 2 years and then land on something.

i think that since meeting jadai, so much of my energies went into us, our trips, our hobbies, our life with cooper, our social network, date nights, exploring the neighborhood, and of course a lot of her stuff: her family, her social justice causes, etc. there was definitely growth and self-reflection etc., as we worked out our differences, as we learned to be in relationship with each other. and also to be fair we really facilitated each other's interests. i took more interest in composting and gardening and we attended some Smart Gardening or Composting workshop together. i got into boating briefly. and i supported her rock climbing and bicycling. and i loved it all. no regrets. but i think so much of me got lost in us. i was glad, at the time. i was so sick of me. i loved being us. but i think i also have to remember, that i existed before us, and that i could exist again. it had for 36 years. granted, very unhappily most of the time. but. there were moments. few and far between, and seemingly barely worth it most of the time, but apparently enough to get me through.

as she and everyone else has repeatedly told me: i cannot expect to be made happy because of someone else, or for someone else, or just with someone else. somehow, SOMEHOW i need to be enough. somehow, whatever this world offers, and whatever i am, somehow this has to be enough. i've been hoping for some magic pill: an antidepressant, an activity, a relationship, etc., and all have failed. i feel like i need to work 10x as hard to get half as far as someone else, but, i mean, i guess that's just my lot in life? it could be worse. i'm about half way through my life, as i near my 40th birthday. i really should try to curb the constant complaining, the constant comparisons, the always-falling-short.

looking ahead: saturday, 9/9/2023: glendale open house with my mom. she'll be picking me up at 1:15 p.m. she might want to get lunch. anjali will be coming around 5 or 6 and then we'll go get shabu shabu or something afterward. i think the last time we hung out we walked by joon shabu shabu and i mentioned it was good and that we should try it. seems she's remembered that. it'll be good to see my mom and anjali. also i feel there will be enough down time to either nap as needed or get in a few rounds of dishes/vacuum/tidying.

sunday, 9/10/2023: church with my mom in the morning. possibly lunch. then over to the west side. it's rhiannon's bday 9/11 and she's been pretty depressed lately and not wanting to celebrate, which i totally get, but i figured we should try to do something. i think we've landed on a movie in playa vista at 4:45 (Bottoms), and then dinner or dessert afterward. i was just there earlier this week, but hey, a birthday only comes once a year yhea?

now off for a walk, a couple episodes of the office, and hopefully i can get started on a new book. fingers crossed.

[elareine]

I had a thought for a prompt: What if Tim had a Costco membership, for getting groceries for Titans Tower right? But what if he got himself a Costco sized tin of those Danish Butter cookies (you know the ones that everyone’s grandma uses the tin for sewing supplies?) for his and Jay’s apartment. Que every single one of their siblings, friends, and Bruce sneaking into their apartment to steal some. Because Alfred DOES NOT let them into the manor for reasons.

That is a hilarious prompt, thank you, love!

(Also thanks to @atasteforsuicidal for explaining what exactly Costco does XD)

It started with Dick. 

Which, okay, not too weird. Tim and Dick were close, and if you asked Jason under torture, he would admit that the two of them managed just fine these days, as well. So Dick was a regular visitor these days, and with his metabolism, him sneaking some cookies from the big tins wasn’t too surprising. 

“Eat something real,” was Jason’s only reply, and then he made Dick some pasta because no one in this family could feed themselves.  

Stephanie was a lot less subtle about it. She marched in with a fervent: “God bless your kitchen” and ate everything in sight. Nothing unusual about that. 

Duke was next, though Jason only retroactively added him to the list. That kid was just charming as fuck, dropping by to ask for some opinions and making such a show of stealing Jason’s quesadillas that Jason never noticed him going for the cookies. 

The problem really started when Damian broke into their kitchen. 

Jason didn’t even figure it out until after it happened, which bugged the hell out of him. Apparently, the hellspawn was willing to do the song-and-dance of slipping through their alarm system but didn’t care about being recorded. Possibly because nothing Damian was all that bad, as far as Jason could see. He went through a few of their assorted tins and boxes, ate a few things, crammed some cookies into his bag, and… left. Maybe the kid had just been hungry on patrol? 

(Jason still replaced all of Tim’s coffee, just in case.) 

Only that wasn’t the last break-in. No, they had nightly visits by two speedsters. Two. Jason was amazed they had any food left at this rate. This was why Tim had become a Costco member; they would be broke otherwise, inheritance or not. Damian broke in again. The second time, he even brought Jon. 

Jason just wished he knew why their kitchen had turned into midnight-snack central. When he complained, Tim just laughed at him.

It didn’t click until Roy fell upon the tin with a cry of delight. “Oh, Jaybird, you bought the good stuff!” 

“They’re just cookies.” 

“Yeah, but the good ones.” For some reason, Roy looked… disappointed with him? “You really don’t appreciate the finer things in life, do you?” 

Normally, Jason would’ve taken that as the starting point for a rant about quality in food and art in these modern times. Right now, he was too busy experiencing an epiphany. “Is that why fucking everyone is trying to burgle our kitchen?” 

Roy patted him on the shoulder sympathetically and inhaled another cookie. 

Sadly, Jason didn’t feel any better about the madness just because he now had an explanation. They still had the nightly visitors, and more daytime ones than ever, too. Even Damian stopped pretending and just invited himself over for lunch. 

One night, Jason switched on the kitchen light, saw Bruce standing there, and switched it right back off. 

“Barbara is now my favorite sibling,” he declared upon returning to the bedroom. 

Tim didn’t look up from whatever he was typing. “Does she really count as a sibling? She does have a dad.” 

“Half sibling, half future sister-in-law, then.” Jason would feel more awkward about that sentence if he wasn’t literally sliding under a blanket with Tim. In their bed. In their apartment. Sooo. No stones to throw here. “Anyway. She’s my favorite.” 

“Any specific reason?” 

“She didn’t yet try to steal those fucking cookies.” 

The typing stopped. 

Jason groaned. “…seriously?” 

He must’ve sounded truly pathetic because Tim actually put the laptop on the nightstand and scooted his way over into Jason’s arms. “She stopped by when you were out with the outlaws yesterday.” 

“And there goes my last hope,” Jason sighed. 

Tim showed his sympathy by cuddling in closer, which Jason appreciated, but he wasn’t done with this whole thing yet. 

“It tells me I need to start baking again,” he grumbled into Tim’s hair. “If ya’ll are going that crazy for some fucking butter cookies, you should try my mom’s recipe.” 

“Yeah, but if you make them, Alfred will love them.” 

“What does Alfred have to do with this?” 

“He forbade those cookie tins from the manor years ago. No one wants to cross him, but… the lure of the forbidden…” 

“So we’re in some sort of reverse psychology experiment?” Jason chuckled. That. That actually explained a lot. Except—“Wait. If you knew—why did you buy it in the first place?” 

Tim mumbled something unintelligible. When Jason poked him, he raised his voice, but not by much. “It’s kinda nice, isn’t it?” 

“Oh.” Jason cupped Tim’s jaw, gently tipped his head so they were looking at each other. “Sweetheart, you know they would visit with or without the cookies, right?” 

Tim just looked at him. “Kinda?”

They had done this for long enough that Jason just asked: “You want logical or emotional reassurance?” 

And Tim knew he could reply: “…both.” 

“Literally every single one of them has a trust fund. They can afford all the Danish butter cookies in the world. Dames could just break into Cosco—and you know he would, cause it’s a corporation, so ‘stealing is ethical.’” Jason allowed that to sink in. Then he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Tim’s temple. “And they love you very much.” Just like I do. 

When he thought that Tim got it, he nodded and let go, allowing his boyfriend to hide his face in Jason’s neck again. That turned out to be a mistake, for Tim chose that moment to strike: “You know the same goes for you, too?” 

Jason took a moment to blink. “…Nah. It’s definitely the cookies.” 

“Sure, Jay.” Tim pressed a kiss to the side of his neck. “Keep telling yourself that.” 

Jason hummed. A peaceful quiet settled over their bedroom. 

He waited until Tim was just settled in, his breathing starting to slow down, to say: “By the way, Bruce is in our kitchen.” 

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that.” 

[caffeinatedbraincell]

A TOG fic inspired by that one post by @oldguardsaidthat

Read on AO3

“I wasn’t that drunk last night,” Joe insisted. The look on Booker’s and Nile’s faces told him that this was a lost battle, but he had to try.

“You were flirting with Nicky,” Andy retorted from the kitchen, noisily slurping a coffee. Joe quickly swallowed a bite of his scrambled eggs before turning over his shoulder.

“So? He’s my husband!”

“You asked him if he was single. Then cried when he said he wasn’t.”

As if on cue, Nicky walked out of their bedroom. His hair was still damp from the shower, poking out from beneath the hood of a large, comfy pullover.

“That’s my hoodie,” Joe and Nile said at the same time. Joe turned to glare at her.

“It’s a men’s hoodie, Nile. Booker got it for me.”

“No, it’s a unisex one from Costco and it was in the bag of shopping with my name on it. Right, Book?”

Booker looked back and forth between them, trying to decide who he wanted to get into a fight with less. He sighed. “It’s clearly Nicky’s.”

Nicky grinned, pausing next to the table to scoop more breakfast potatoes onto Booker’s plate. “You tell them, Booker.” He went into the kitchen to join Andy by the coffee bar. “What were you saying, boss? Who was crying?”

“Your husband. Last night.”

Nicky laughed out loud. Joe tried really, really hard to be mad.

“He remembered nothing this morning, if you’ll believe it. I didn’t even know we could get hangovers that bad.”

“Yeah, well. You know how he gets. He missed you.”

Andy’s voice had softened, and Joe could almost see the look of fondness that was no doubt settling itself across Nicky’s face. He decided to lighten the moment by stomping into the kitchen and angrily washing his plate.

“I’m right here, you know! I can hear you.”

Andy smirked a little evilly. “Don’t you want to know what happened last night, Joe?”

“No.”

Booker walked in with his and Nile’s plates, sliding them into the soapy water and shrinking back when Joe gently waved off his offer to help. Nile hopped up onto a stool on the other side of the counter. She leaned forward excitedly.

“Are you sure? Because it’s a good story. We’d love to tell it.”

“Of course you would,” Joe muttered with ire that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’d all jump to speak of my humiliation, wouldn’t you?”

“Of your all-encompassing love, hayati.” Nicky set his cup down and stepped next to him, pressing against his hip and shoulder as he reached for a dish cloth to start drying. “Of your sweetness. Your utter sincerity. Which of these sounds even remotely like humiliation?”

“Bold words for someone who refuses to delete the video of me slipping in the rain and landing butt-first in a puddle of mud.”

“It was funny, Joe!”

“You showed Nile,” he grumbled, but he felt his lips quirk up in a smile despite himself.

“She is part of our family now, is she not?”

“Of course. Which is why I’m taking her to the art history museum in Malta next time we all visit. The human anatomy exhibit, specifically.”

Nicky turned a lovely shade of pink and made a point of shaking the next wet dish directly over Joe’s head.

“What’s in the human anatomy exhibit?” Nile perked up. Joe opened his mouth to speak, but Nicky quickly cut in.

“Andy! Why don’t you tell Joe how he managed to get wasted before Booker and I even showed up last night?”

___

Andy slapped $200 onto the table. Nile raised a judgmental eyebrow as she chewed on a piece of fried chicken.

“Andy. I’m 27. I don’t have $200 lying around to throw in on a bet.”

“That’s fine. Put in how much ever you want. Winner takes all. Joe, you want in?”

Joe looked up from where his head had been resting against his hands on the table. “I refuse,” he began indignantly, “to go around flirting with people just to get their numbers. It’s unethical. What if you break someone’s heart?”

Andy rolled her eyes. “No one’s gonna lose their heart to someone they met a few minutes ago at a club. Most of the numbers are fake, anyway. It’s just for fun.”

“Nicky’s not here.”

“Booker texted me. They’re delayed because Copley told them to stop by the bank and withdraw some cash. He’s going on vacation and wants us to stay under the radar for a few days.”

Joe shook his head. “You two play. I think I’m going to sit at the bar and drink for a bit.”

“Suit yourself. Nile, come on.”

___

“Wait, wait, wait,” Nile interjected. “Let me tell this next part, ‘cuz you’ll tell it wrong.”

“Look, the fact that you had three more numbers when Nicky and Booker arrived is immaterial. If we’d continued the game like we were supposed to, I’d have won.”

“You’re a sore loser, Andy.”

“Hey, I paid you, didn’t I?”

The group made their way back to the dining table. Nicky sat back and ran a hand through his hair exasperatedly.

“Madre de dio, you guys. I’ll tell it.”

___

Nicky and Booker walked into the club, quickly locating Andy as she chatted with another woman animatedly.

“Andy!”

Andy looked up and smiled, extracting herself effortlessly from the conversation.

“Finally. The bank give you any trouble?”

“Tried to,” Nicky answered, “but nothing a quick call to Copley didn’t fix.”

“Where’s Nile and Joe?” Booker asked. “We should go home.”

“Oh? No drinks tonight, Book?”

“We have better alcohol in the kitchen cabinet.”

“That’s true. Nile should be around here somewhere, shoot her a text. Nicky and I’ll go find Joe.”

“Bet.”

They walked toward the bar and spotted Joe scooting what was obviously the latest of several $10 bills at a bartender. She spared him a concerned glance over her shoulder as she poured him another drink. Joe gulped it down in a matter of seconds.

Nicky shook his head despairingly. “This insane man.”

“He was missing you.”

“That’s no reason to drink the bar dry!”

“The alcohol can’t hurt him, Nicky.”

“I know, I know. Give me a couple minutes, I’ll get him.”

Nicky walked up and slid onto the stool next to Joe, leaning forward to ask the bartender for a glass of water. He turned to his husband. Before he could say anything, Joe glanced at him out of the corner of his eye and whispered,

“Beautiful company tonight.”

Nicky froze. Was his husband hitting on him?

Joe winked.

Nicky’s jaw dropped. He was going to slap this man. He didn’t even want to know how much alcohol it took for an immortal to get this much out of their own mind.

“Are you single?” Joe’s words cut through his thoughts. Nicky looked at his wide, sparkling brown eyes, alive and surprisingly alert compared to a few moments ago. Joe kept his hands to himself, but leaned forward almost unconsciously, as if taking comfort in breathing the air around Nicky. His voice and body were a study in longing.

“No,” Nicky replied honestly. He held up his left hand. “I’m married.”

For a minute, neither of them spoke. Then Joe turned back to the bar and rested his chin on his hands, looking away.

“Oh,” he said in a tiny voice.

Nicolo rested a hand on the back of his neck and brought the glass of water to his lips. “Here, drink this. You’ll feel better.”

As he returned the glass, Nicky heard Joe give a small sniffle. Then another. He whipped around just in time to see a large, unhappy tear trickle down his beloved’s face.

Nicky’s heart abruptly broke.

“Hayati,” he breathed, surging forward to take Joe’s face in his hands. “Joe, look at me, my love. Please.”

“I’m not, though. Your love.” Joe hiccupped sadly. “You’re already married.”

“To you, you absolute fool. Here, I’ll show you. See?” Nicky held up his husband’s hand, clinking their matching rings together. “You’re my husband, Yusuf. The love of my every life.”

Joe looked at their joined hands disbelievingly. “I’m… yours?”

“Yes. Of course. And I’m yours. For as long as you want.”

“Promise?”

If Nicky had to endure one more second of doubt in those wide, teary eyes, he would explode. So he leaned forward and captured Joe’s lips with his, trying to pour 900 years of tenderness and devotion into the kiss.

“Nicky!” Nicky pulled back just far enough to shout a quick, “Yes, boss?” over his shoulder. Not that Joe found even that small distance acceptable, with the way he clung to Nicky’s neck.

“Get your ass in the car. Joe’s, too. You two can continue there. The rest of us want to go home.”

“I call shotgun!” Booker yelled.

“Oh, that’s not fair at all,” Nile grumbled. “Andy, can I drive?”

“No.”

___

Joe buried his face in his palms and groaned, a blush creeping up his neck as the others laughed. “Please tell me I at least behaved on the drive back.”

“If you call whispering ‘ti amo’ repeatedly until you fell asleep in Nicky’s lap behaving, then sure.”

The others burst out laughing at Nile’s retort, and Joe flushed even deeper.

“Hey, it could have been worse,” Andy smirked.

“Anyway,” Joe interjected. “I guess I owe you all an apology.”

Every single one of them opened their mouths to assure him that no such thing was necessary, but Andy got there first.

“For what? Being an absolutely precious human being? Never.”

[jewish-privilege]

...Regardless, the reality of perceptions is lived most poignantly in the depths of one’s heart, so I have to admit that it was painful to have to wonder with each time we found ourselves lost and driving up to a new face, and a new location to get directions back home, how we would be received.

Fast forward to three months after our move [from St. Louis to Boston], as I and a team of colleagues are preparing to host our national conference at a Boston hotel. We are filling welcome bags to give to some 300 student guests that will arrive shortly from around the country and realize that we have run out of the snacks that we are using to fill them. As the team lead, and one of two local staffers with a car, I elect to run to the nearest Costco to pick up a case of snacks. As I google the location and print out the directions, I manage to swallow my fear of getting lost, as I tell myself that the Costco is less than 20 miles from the hotel.

As I get into my minivan, I take a deep breath, scan the directions and say to myself, “You got this!”...

At one of the last left turns before reaching my destination, I notice a police car behind me, but I pay it no mind since I’m pretty sure that driving as slowly as I had been since leaving the hotel, I haven’t violated any speed limits. As I near the Costco, I see the gas gauge on my tank is a little low, so I decide to stop for gas. As I turn into the lot and begin looking in my purse for my credit card, I notice that the police car  has now pulled behind me and started flashing its lights.

I look behind me and wait to see if the officer is going to approach my car. When minutes pass and he doesn’t, I decide to get out of the car and get my gas. While walking to the gas tank, a white police officer emerges from the car and yells to me from behind his door, “Excuse me, you’re going to need to get back in your vehicle!”

I turn to look at him and say “Why? Is there something wrong?”

“I said get back in your vehicle!” he yells in response.

Thinking that something about my slow driving may have prompted this encounter, I say, “Officer, did I miss a sign or something when making my turn, I’m actually trying to get to Costco around the corner to buy …”

This time, with a drawn gun in my direction, he screams, “I said get back in your vehicle NOW!”

I get back in my minivan and try to call my husband — no answer. I beep him and leave my number as another two police cars arrive and surround my vehicle. I start to cry. All sorts of images pop into my head as fear sets in around the fact that despite the fact that I’ve got a team of highly educated white Jewish professionals waiting to take my direction back at the hotel, I’m here now, a black person, dressed in sweats, and being held prisoner in my own vehicle for reasons unknown.

...Out of desperation, I decide to call the police on the police. I call the Watertown Police Department and ask to speak to the captain on duty...

After a short hold, I do succeed in getting a captain on the line and manage to tell my story. The captain then puts me on hold for a short while before returning to inform me that although it might appear I am involved in a racial incident, he would like to assure me that this is not case. It seems a person driving a vehicle with my description had been called in earlier that evening for a hit-and-run. The officers had pulled me over and sequestered me in my car because I had been driving slowly and they thought I might have been driving drunk.

As I hear this, more tears come and I find myself saying through sobs to the officer, “And what about my person, outside of my skin color and baggy sweats, do you feel validated your officers in making this assumption? Why have I not been asked any questions? There is another white man here talking to your officers and they have not said a word to me outside of ordering me to stay in my car. Do you realize that had I not returned to my car, I could be dead right now around a false assumption?”

...I get out and say to the officers loudly, “I just spoke to your captain and I need to take a record of what is going on here.” As I go over to the police car behind my vehicle and snap a photo of the license plate, the officer that told me to get in my car repeats that I need to return to my vehicle. While shaking from head to toe, and with tears streaming, I say to him, “I spoke to your captain, and I will go back to my vehicle after I have pictures of my and your cars.”

Despite more yelling from the officer, I proceed to go to the vehicle of the gentleman that had arrived on the scene and take pictures of his car and then pictures of my own. While I am doing this, I notice that the police have also started yelling at another white man who has been parked getting gas at the opposite side of the pumps since I arrived at the gas station.

Although I didn’t see him initially, I realize that he has been standing off to the side watching the entire episode. The police were vociferously asking him to leave and he seemed to be saying to them that he was not willing to comply. At some point this man left the officers and came over to ask me if I was all right. I looked at him through tears and said I was OK. He handed me his business card and said, “I’ve been here the whole time and when I saw that the police wouldn’t listen to you, I stayed to see that you were all right. They are asking me to go now, but if you need me to be a witness for you to say what happened here, just call and I’d be happy to help.”

As I looked into the eyes of this stranger, the events of the evening shifted significantly for me. I realized that despite the grief I felt over the presence and ongoing threat of racism in the new millennium, there was also hope in the presence of this white ally that seemed willing to stand with me and even put himself at risk to ensure that justice was really for all and not just for himself.

Over the past year, as issues of race and racism have exploded and taken center stage in our national discourse, many of my white colleagues have asked me: “What can white people do in this moment?” Given my own experiences, what I find myself saying most often is that it is essential for white people to find ways to stand with people of color in their vulnerability and be a witness to racial injustices that are often going on around them every day.

What gave me hope, when I encountered the uneven hand of the police myself, was that a white stranger stayed by my side to see that justice did not betray me that evening, even though it brought negative attention from the police his way. When white people agree to stand with people of color no matter how uncomfortable the realities at the intersection of race and class may make them, the would-be perpetrators of injustice become accountable not just to their victims but to the world that is watching them as well.

...As I reflect on my own experiences of the inequities of race, I do my best to add hope and context to these occurrences by reminding myself and my would-be allies that oppressive circumstances hold many dimensions, perpetrators, victims and bystanders, and that witnesses and allies are often sharing the same experience of tragedy with different roles to play that can deeply affect the ultimate outcome.

...There is a courageous journey at each end of the spectrum: An oppressor can face fears that have taken years to accumulate and make change in a moment; a victim can face the fear of personal threat, sometimes even death, to insist upon the truth and justice of human dignity; a bystander can feel helpless in a moment of tragedy but inspired to never let what they have seen happen to anyone else again; allies or witnesses can act, often in the moment, to use what power they have to interrupt an oppressive act’s power to rape other human beings of their dignity...

[carry-on-my-wayward-butt]

hey Vicky do/did you ever deal with people grabbing your wheelchair and moving you around without your consent? I recently had knee reconstruction and for some reason I’m like a magnet for middle age white women who move me around in stores and think they’re helping. its so fucking annoying but I hate confrontation so I just sit there :(

twice.

one time was in the middle of costco, a middle aged woman pushed me forward about two feet to get to something i was blocking instead of just,,,, asking me politely to move… and what i wanted to do was shout “HEY WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING ASSHOLE” but what actually happened was me immediately bursting into tears because i was wacked out on pain killers and couldnt emote in the way i wanted to. my mom was there with me though and she laid into her in the middle of the clothing tables like “are you fucking crazy? are you an idiot? how would you like it if i just pushed you around to get past you huh?” and shoved her shoulder a few times. it was scary because i was worried my mom would get in trouble but the lady was scared out of her fucking mind at being confronted i guess so she just took off without apologizing or anything. i was crying the rest of the day but i was really glad my mom was there.

the other time was in target a while after i had stopped the pain killers and my mom had already left back home and davyn was on the other side of the store. another older lady just scooted my ass over in the middle of the shampoo aisle and it was a saturday afternoon so it was already packed so she ended up pushing me right into some other lady’s legs and i apologized to the person i bumped and was like “god im so sorry i didnt mean to knock you but i was pushed im sorry” and the other lady was all “no no its not your fault that SOME people are RUDE BITCHES” while practically spitting venom at the older lady and i was like ‘yike’ and rolled away because im a pussy

no one had ever taken it upon themselves to push me around like a tour guide but that’s most likely because i had my husband with me everywhere cuz i couldn’t exactly go out and do stuff without him lol.

i hate confrontation too, i couldn’t say anything to the target woman and i felt like such a pussy afterward and i was in a bad mood the rest of the day. just being scooted two feet feels so disgusting and degrading, if someone actually had pushed me around i’d imagine i would just start sobbing wildly.

[nikkisnonsense-blog1]

To Myself... Three Months Ago

Dear Nikki,

Hey girl, I come to you not bearing the greatest of news. These next few months are going to be some of the hardest of your life so far. I really hate to be the one to tell you this but I feel like we’re close enough that we can be honest with each other. Well I’m not gonna waste anymore time because there’s a lot I need to get you up to speed on. Let’s make this a list of 8 things for organization sake.

      1. The musical you’ve been directing for the past few months will not be happening

You and your friend/ music director, Joe have been wearing out the phrase “I can’t believe the show is happening!” for the past few months. Sadly, that’s not the case. Sure, sometimes you wanted to rip your hair out due to frustration or cried in your car because you didn’t think you were doing a good enough job. But underneath it all, I know you had put more work into this show than you have for anything else in your life. You knew the possibility of the show being canceled was there but it was only something that you joked about in rehearsal with your cast. It could never become a reality. The day you find out, you won’t cry much. Which is weird. If anything you don’t feel much at all. The next day your cast will do an amazing concert style performance of the show instead which people will rave to you about and it genuinely makes you feel good for a moment. But it isn’t until after that’s over that it actually begins to set in. When everyone else starts to move on You’ll stare at the box of props that sits in your kitchen for months and feel a weird form of uneasiness. You were told by everyone that any frustration you feel would be worth it when the curtain opens. But what do you do when the curtain never opens? You’re forced to sit with the disappointment and sadness of an unfinished project. You think about all of the fun things you would have gotten to do with your cast and crew and how proud of yourself you would have been after the shows. That’s when you cry.

      2. The second half of your last college semester will be taken away

Besides the Musical, you will also be missing out on plenty of other events at school.  Your spring concert, trip to NYC, your roommate’s senior art show, your girlfriend’s comedy show, any theatre in the area, drunken nights with your friends, and most importantly, Graduation. Ah yes, the very thing that your entire life has been waiting on. At least that’s how it feels. You remember when you were little and traveled to upstate New York and Boston for your cousins’ graduations and how big of a deal they were. Or watching your parents tear up at your sister’s graduation. Not having been the best student in school, you were shocked you even made it this far. A day that was going to be a monumental experience for you and so many others has just been pushed to a further date. Like a dentist appointment. That day hurts the most. When I tell my parents how upset I am, they assure me “You’ll still have a graduation!” but you know it won’t be the same. You get mad at the world because of it and feel like stomping your feet on the ground and yelling “It’s not fair!” like a child. But you know that wouldn’t do any good.

       3. You’re going to gain weight

As someone who has had body images their whole life, I know this sounds like an absolute nightmare. And it kind of is. It’s kind of inevitable wen you can’t leave your house anymore, you rely on Door Dash a little too much, The gym is closed, and you really have no motivation to do anything. Stretch marks will appear in new places, shirts that once fit perfectly will be snug, and certain clothes you used to feels sexy in, just make you feel like a fool. It’s so important to remind yourself that your body is changing because your lifestyle is changing. It’s going to drive you wild for a while but I promise you it is not the end of the world. Also your girlfriend assures you she still finds you beautiful in any state. 

       4.  You move back in with your parents

You’re fortunate enough to have the last 2 months in your apartment to quarantine with your roommates and your girlfriend which is like a weird stretch of time where there are no rules and you feel like a Sim without a task. Then before you know it, your lease is up and your parents come up and help move you out of your apartment. Now I know you’re thinking that sounds like a nightmare but living with Mom and Dad is not as awful as you imagined. They treat you like an adult, give you your space, and dad only makes you watch one video he finds online a day as opposed to his usual 5. Theres also a bulk size container of cheese sticks from Costco so you decide this place isn’t too bad. Moving home is surprisingly the best you’ve felt all year. Your mental health is getting better which is a god sent considering how miserable you’ve been. So there is a silver lining

     5. Finding work is IMPOSSIBLE

You’ll find yourself comparing yourself to when your sister finished college and found work and an apartment almost immediately. Even though she’s in a different field and graduated 3 years ago when the world was a much different place, you still compare yourself. Indeed and Ziprecruiter become your best friends but they clearly don’t like you back very much because your responses are limited. The closest you get to a job is an insurance agency that would offer you $65,000- $85,000 a year. Maybe it’s just the Jew in you, but those numbers got you very excited, so you apply. They decide they’re interested in you and schedule you for a virtual interview. You’ve also read the job description 100 times and still have no god damn idea what you would be doing. During the Interview, the man asks you if you have any doubts and you say “maybe a few due to my lack of experience” but in your head you’re thinking “What the fuck am I doing. I have a degree in Theatre and I’m trying to get a job selling insurance. Would this job even make me the tiniest bit happy besides the paycheck?” The man tells you that he would like to offer you the job to which you graciously say thank you.  As soon as you hang up the zoom call, you immediately burst into tears. Frustrated and sad that the only job you have gotten close to is one you don’t even want. The jobs you do want, in the arts and media, are not hiring right now and if they are it’s for people with 5+ years of experience. You’ve applied to over 50 jobs at this point and the only ones that have gotten back to you sound dreadful. You learn that no paycheck is worth a lifetime of sadness. You email the man back saying thank you, but you cannot accept the job.

    6. The world is full of awful people

This may seem like an exaggeration at first especially because I- uh I mean you, are generally a pretty optimistic person. You may have severe depression, but you still usually see the glass half full. But even the blindest of optimists can’t deny the world looks pretty shit right now. Besides the pandemic, Black people are being murdered left and right by police for no reason. Something that certainly isn’t a new phenomenon but has now been amplified to new heights and has brought out the rage in people. You do what you can to help in these times. Protesting, donating, sharing online, signing petitions but it never feels like enough. You will continue to raise your voice about Black Lives Mattering and hope for change. Acknowledging your white privilege and trying to listen to the voices of others. As much as you personally try to help out, you end up seeing the ugly that comes out as well. Especially in your 92.9% white small town. 

    7. Pride will be different this year

The yearly celebration of going to Pride in Philadelphia with rainbow shadow on your eyes, glitter in your hair, and a water bottle full of vodka and gatorade have now been replace with anger and a yearning for justice. The LGBT community would be nothing without Black activists backing it. The Stonewall Riots were led by a Black Trans Woman. So you do your part to amplify black voices as a part of pride. Because right now is not the time to take shots and dance to Whitney Houston.

    8. You’re not the only one feeling this way

Even though life is a bit of a shit show right now, it’s so important to remind yourself that you are not the only one experiencing these things. None of your friends know what the hell they’re doing either.  Everyone is just scared shitless of the state of the world and is trying their best. Please take some of the pressure off yourself. You are only a person and it’s unrealistic to put these standards on yourself. The world today is a completely different world than it was 3 months ago. As for the months to come, I have absolutely no idea what to expect. You’d have to ask 6 months from now Nikki but I haven’t met her yet. The world will not be the same as it was before but I promise you, there is a new normal somewhere beyond the horizon. 

Take care of yourself,

Present Day Nikki

Ps. You are going to adopt a baby tortoise named Harley and he will be the light of your life. He will make life just a bit more bearable.

Pss. 

Here are links to help the Black Lives Matter movement

[rambling-at-midnight]

Snowflakes Melt Too Quickly (Part 1)

Requested: yes, but I won’t include it so I don’t give anything away!

Pairing: Five x Reader

The Cold

It seems impossible.

It should be impossible.

How could you be the only person alive? It can’t be possible. There’s always abandoned bunkers that those people you’d thought crazy had built just in case the world ever ended. They should’ve gone inside them, but maybe nobody had been paying enough attention. It happened too quickly, you think.

Still. There has to be someone.

The second you’d seen those comets hurtling toward the earth, you’d panicked and ignored every order your mother had thrown at you, which turned out to be both a great and terrible idea. On the one hand, you’re alive.

On the other, you’re completely and utterly alone in a world that’s decimated by whatever happened. You almost wish you’d died right along with the rest of the world. It’s better than this silence.

Five days. It’s been five days since you’d been leaving Costco with your mother. It was closing time and there was almost no one left in the store except the employees. You were helping your mother load the groceries into the trunk of the car when an explosion and a bright light had almost blinded you. You’d looked up and you’d seen a brilliant beam of light shining directly at the moon.

“Holy shit,” your mother muttered. It was the first time you’d ever heard her curse.

Now, you’re a normal girl. You’re not one of those fanatics that are always proclaiming about the end of the world.

But you have thought about zombie outbreaks, just like everyone has, especially with all these shows and books coming out about plagues and disasters that decimate the population and stuff like The Walking Dead. It’s fun to hypothesize about how to survive an apocalypse, you know?

And a very general idea about how to survive an apocalypse is to hole up in a Costco. The walls are made of thick stone, there are gates to pull down to keep away zombies, and there’s food, clothes, books—you name it. It’s the perfect place to stay.

So when the moon had started to explode, you’d ignored your mother trying to hop into the car—”Get in, Y/N, let’s get somewhere safe,” she’d yelled and it was the last thing you ever heard her say, but you’d be damned if you’d get into an extremely crushable tin can coffin over a large stone warehouse filled to the brim with supplies. You’d raced away. You hadn’t even thought about how your mom would die if you didn’t bring her along.

You just ran, and it tears you up inside. She could have survived if you hadn’t been so selfish. You’d been so selfish.

You’d ran into the warehouse as the sky was splitting apart and the earth was dying, as a sound like a train barreled towards you. Other employees had yelled at you as they ran out, apparently not having gotten the memo that a Costco is a reasonable place to go during an apocalypse. Their cars won’t save them like their phones won’t save them, but they’re all adults. They’re too attached to their electronics, too dependent on them. They’re raised to a pedestal that killed the people.

You’d dived under a desk at the photo-processing station just to the right of the entrance and covered your head with your hands just like they tell you to during tornado drills at school.

Your feet were numb within minutes. The wind roared, the building creaked and swayed and one part fell down, completely destroying the televisions and coffee machines, not that you expected a lot of shows to be on TV if it’s the actual apocalypse, and you don’t drink coffee anyway. A wave of fire rushed in the open door of the warehouse, licking at your back and burning your shoes off—you don’t think your feet will ever look the same—and one of the machines that print out the pictures had fallen over, knocking you out and trapping you under the desk. It might have been the thing to save you; you could have been way more burnt if it hadn’t been there to get melted.

You’d woken up with a pounding head, burnt feet, and a parched throat. It took you a full day to get out from under the desk and realize that everything was… gone. You’d managed to scoot out the door on your butt all the way to the parking lot. You’d gotten close enough to see the mangled, scorched remains of your family car—you recognize the license plate, the place it was parked, and the color, and then you’d cried and screamed until your throat was raw.

The fire that had rushed into the building had only gone through the door, and you’re very grateful that the Costco employers put the flashy objects, designed to capture customers’ interest and draw them further into the warehouse, were in the front of the store. All the important stuff, like the food, is in the back and barely touched.

You can’t put weight on your feet and your arms sting all the time. They’re not especially terrible—you’ve seen pictures of much worse—but they’re definitely pretty bad. You’re pretty sure they’re second-degree burns on your feet and first-degree on your arms, and you’d spent the better part of the second day cleaning your feet off and crying as you had to pick melted rubber out of the flesh, but you knew it was better than leaving it in.

Thanks to some stroke of luck, there are wheelchairs in this Costco for people with walking problems, and you got yourself into one with only mild struggle. It’s definitely bumpy to wheel around the warehouse; there’s shattered glass, splintered wood, and toppled shelves and boxes all around, but it’s better than suffering on your feet or scooting on your butt.

You’re just dreading the day you have to leave the warehouse when all the food runs out. How many other stores will be so untouched? Will there even be food after you leave? What if you’d survived the fire—the easy, so-quick-it’s-painless fire—just to starve to death slowly in this apocalyptic wasteland where you’re the only person left (as far as you know)?

You don’t even want to think about it, so you distract yourself with the puzzles and books display and keep the lights on all the time, just in case there’s another survivor that shows up looking for company.

By today, the fifth day, though, you’re beginning to lose hope. Surely it can’t be that hard to see the still-standing Costco with the lights on, right? It should be a beacon. Survivors should be flocking here.

Or maybe you really are the last person alive, at least in this area. And how on earth are you supposed to know if someone in, say, Asia is alive? Even if there’s another survivor on another continent, it doesn’t count. Not if you don’t know about the others’ existence.

When you hear another person’s voice, you think you’ve gone crazy.

“Hello?” you hear someone call out. You can hear their footsteps on the messy floor, hesitant in the slow, light steps. They’re obviously a boy, and he’s obviously scared. His voice is hesitant in the way yours had been when you’d screamed and cried for hours upon seeing what the parking lot had looked like. “Is someone there? The lights are on here, unlike everywhere else.”

You’ve spent the last five days hoping as hard as you could for a survivor to come find you, but now that he’s here you’re suddenly scared. What if he’s not friendly? What if he doesn’t want to stay with you? What if he abandons you? Suddenly being alone sounds so much worse now that you know there’s at least one more survivor out there.

“Over here,” you try to say, but all that comes out is a rasp. You clear your throat. “Over here! I’m here!” You would stand up to try to find them, but… your feet are burnt.

“Oh, my God,” you hear the person say, followed by the sound of pounding feet. “Where are you?”

“I’m here!” you shout over and over again, waving your arms on the off chance he’ll see you. Oh my God. Oh my God. There’s someone else! I’m not going to be alone anymore! Oh my God!

The boy slides into your view, sprinting towards the sound of your voice. He’s got dirt and grime on his face, his hair is all over the place, and he’s wearing, of all thing, a schoolboy uniform. You didn’t know people wore those anymore, but you wouldn’t care if he wasn’t wearing anything at all. There’s somebody else in this hellish apocalypse with you.

You start to cry and you notice the boy is crying too. “Are you an angel?” you ask, but you’re crying too hard and the boy is too far away (you think) for him to hear. You hope. It’s an idiotic thing to say.

“How did you survive?” he asks, kneeling in front of your wheelchair and furiously wiping at his cheeks. “Are you the only one?”

“I hid in here,” you reply, trying not to choke on your tears. “And I’m not the only one. I have you.” You lean forward and wrap your arms around him as tightly as you can, and despite how weird it is, he hugs you back too. You’ve never seen him before in your life, but goddamn you’re relieved to have a companion and you’re sure he is too. “How did you survive? How are you not injured at all?”

“Long story,” the boy mutters. “Are you hurt?” he asks, seeing your arms and your burnt feet, which is a dumb question. His nose crinkles a little bit, and you don’t blame him. They’re both ugly wounds.

“Y-yes,” you reply. “I don’t normally need a wheelchair. But the fire… the moon…”

“I think we can talk about it later,” he interrupts. “I’m Five. What’s your name?”

“I’m Y/N,” you reply, wiping away your tears. “That’s a weird name.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N,” he responds. “I have a feeling we’re going to get to know each other pretty well, considering we look to be the last two people on earth.”

Umbrella Academy Taglist:

@fentanvl @deathswretch @lightningidiot @five-hg @iamsnek666@ameliatrh @ihatecheesyusernames @dora-the-grownup @emilyt0314 @idklol707

Five x Reader Taglist:

@statsvitenskap @dare-the-punisher @thespian-anon

Snowflakes Taglist:

@campcampie

Forever Taglist:

@lemirabitur @annymcervantes

[santoteez]

In The Bronx- Hongjoong (1)

Part: 1 of (?)

Parts 2 and 3 now available!

Genre: Drugdealer!Hongjoong, Drugdealer! SeonghwaAU, Eventual Angst, Eventual Smut, Eventual Fluff

Word Count: 1.6k

Requested: no

Warnings: MC is a black female, mentions of drugs, mentions of child neglect & abandonment, swearing, mentions of sex, Hongjoong’s brother is inspired by Mingi

NOTE: This fic does NOT, in any way, shape, or form, portray the way I view any member of Ateez nor does it depict their true personalities or actions. This AU is just that. An AU.

Hongjoong sat at the kitchen table of his one-bedroom apartment, bagging the white powder-like substance in tiny Ziploc bags, before moving onto the pungent-smelling plant. He knew it was wrong, but he did it for his family. Since he was little, it had always just been him and his brother.

His mother left them at the steps of a crackhouse when Hongjoong was just five. Minjoon, his younger brother, was just a month old. He remembered nothing of their mother, and for that Hongjoong was grateful. She set the baby carrier down next to Hongjoong’s jittery legs before running into a car with an unknown man who had a prominent scar on his face. A policeman saw the two boys crying from the street, which prompted a raid, although Hongjoong and Minjoon’s mother was never found, not even with the clue of the man’s scar which Hongjoong provided.

They spent years in and out of foster homes. It was a desperate struggle to keep the boys together. No one wanted to take in two boys at once. Nine times out of ten, the family wanted Minjoon alone. Hongjoong took no offense to that, if he were them, he’d only want Minjoon too. Minjoon was a parent’s dream. He was smart, talented, and studious. Most importantly, he wasn’t a rebellious teen with trust issues instilled in him from seeing his mother run away from the stoop where she told him to stay put. Hongjoong spent his teen years being ran out of foster homes, for reasons he thought were absolute bullshit. After all, how did he know his foster mom would freak out catching him in bed with a senior during his freshman year?

Eventually, Hongjoong turned 18, and gained legal guardianship of Minjoon, much to his foster parents’ dismay. They had planned to adopt Minjoon but seeing as though Hongjoong was his only known blood relative and had the means to take care of him as well as his own place, it was a no brainer for the judge that he be appointed as Minjoon’s caretaker.

What the judge didn’t know, however, was how Hongjoong came to make all that money. Sure, he had paystubs from a clothing store, but did he have to explain that he was fired a week before the court hearing after word got to the manager that he was a drug dealer in his spare time? No. And for as long as Hongjoong could, Minjoon didn’t have to know either.

That’s why every day from the time he dropped Minjoon off at school until it was time to go pick him up again, Hongjoong sat at their kitchen table and bagged his product, preparing it for pickup. As much as he’s wanted to quit, he was recently moved up to kingpin after his boss retired and left the business to him. Plus, it paid the bills and he just needed a little bit more to send Minjoon to college.

Hongjoong glanced at the clock. It was almost time for him to go. “Where the fuck is Seonghwa? He has to take all this shit from here.” He sighed. As if on cue, the door unlocked, Seonghwa flying in.

“I’m late. I know. I got caught up.”

Hongjoong looked up from the table. “Caught up in terms of women, or in terms of business?”

“Business. But I handled it.”

Hongjoong stood up, making sure his keys were in his pocket. “You always do. I gotta bounce, make sure all this shit is gone before Minjoon is here.”

“As you said, I always do. Oh yeah, HJ,” Seonghwa wasted no time tossing the product into his Northface backpack as Hongjoong put on a pair of sneakers and head out the door. “Santana is waiting for you outside her building.”

Seonghwa was Hongjoong’s right hand. The two started pushing weight around the same time, forming an unbreakable bond. When the business was left to Hongjoong, his first rule of order was to appoint Seonghwa as second in command. After all, he was the only one he could trust with a key to his apartment and the job of making sure word of the job never makes it to Minjoon.

Hongjoong hopped into his all-black, Nissan Altima, turning it on and pulling out of the parking space. The guys back at the warehouse clowned him all the time for choosing to drive such a mundane car, but he called it being smart. A Lamborghini or Aston Martin in the heart of The Bronx was a huge red flag. Who would think to suspect the guy with a Nissan?

Aside from his brother, the one person Hongjoong was willing to do anything for was Santana. Santana was a 5’4 dark skin woman that lived nearby. Hongjoong tried for months before he was able to capture her attention. He always saw her on her way home from work when he did his nightly drops. He always looked forward to seeing her hips sway and her curly hair either down her back or up in a bun. She never responded when he said “Goodnight” or “How you doing” but that didn’t stop him from saying it every time. It wasn’t until Hongjoong asked about the book he saw her carrying one of the few times he saw her during the day.

“You’re reading Aurora. That’s a great book.”

“You read?” She asked skeptically.

“Of course. It’s about a ship traveling to Tau Ceti to form a human colony, right? You owe me a date if I am.”

And the rest is history.

Today was Santana’s day off, so Hongjoong pulled up to her building where she was already standing. She was dressed in Nike from head to toe with Bred 1s on her feet. Her face was beat to the gods, with red eyeshadow to match her sneakers and lip gloss coating her full lips.

She hopped into the passenger side and Hongjoong leaned in for a kiss.

“Ms. Davis, as beautiful as ever.” He said when she pulled away.

“On our way to get Minjoon?” She asked, putting on her seatbelt.

“The one and only,” Hongjoong said.

“Nice. I love that kid.”

Hongjoong side-eyed her playfully. “Calm that down.” He said, laughing when she rolled her eyes at him. “Nah I get it. He’s pretty amazing.”

“Amazing? HJ, he’s UNDEFEATED. All-star quarterback, captain of the debate team, student body president? Isn’t he on his way to win prom king?”

Hongjoong nodded proudly. “He’s gonna take over the world someday.”

Santana grabbed his free hand. “Only because he has the best of the best in his corner, every step of the way.”

Hongjoong lifted her hand to his lips, kissing them softly. They drove the rest of the way in silence, occasionally singing along to the radio. They pulled up to Minjoon’s high school just in time to see him walking out, a crowd following him through the doors, girls calling out to him and swooning when he reciprocated. He broke into a slow jog when he saw Hongjoong’s car, Santana hopping out of the passenger seat to greet him and move to the back. Hongjoong told her numerous times that she didn’t have to get out, but she insisted. She loved seeing them interact with one another. It was one of the few times Hongjoong looked completely carefree; the way he should look all the time.

“Santana! Long time no see!” Minjoon shouted, beaming at the short girl.

“Minjoon, the man of the hour. I see all those girls eyeing you.” She winked.

“Don’t give me so much credit. I learn everything I know from the man in the driver’s seat.” Minjoon laughed, hopping in the car.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just don’t bring no girl with a belly to the house. I’ll crack your shit.” Hongjoong dapped him up.

“Same goes for you. If Santana so much as gains an ounce, I’m coming for your head.”

Hongjoong rolled his eyes. “That’s none of your business, I’m grown.”

“It becomes my business when I can’t sleep because all I hear is your name being screamed from the living room.”

“I bought you Beats! USE THEM!”

“Seriously? That’s your solution?”

“They’re noise-canceling. What’s that whisper shit called? ABCD?” Hongjoong asked.

“ASMR, babe,” Santana said in between laughs.

“There you go. Fall asleep to that shit.”

They went on like this until reaching the house. There, Seonghwa was standing outside with a couple of guys from the crew. Minjoon hopped out running to him.

“Seonghwa! How you been, playa?”

“Shit. Not as good as you, Youngblood. Look like you living on top of the world nowadays.” Seonghwa smiled at the young boy.

Hongjoong watched the interaction from the car, staring intently.

“Are you ever gonna tell him?” Santana asked.

Hongjoong knew what she was referring to. As far as Minjoon knew, Hongjoong was an overnight stock associate for Costco and was saving up to go to college, after having gotten his GED a couple years back. Faking the paystubs and documentation for Minjoon’s school was a piece of cake, with his boy San, who managed the local storefront, providing him with anything he needed. There was even video evidence of him working, should he ever need it.

“C’ mon Santana, don’t start that shit.” He refused to meet her gaze.

“You can’t keep him in the dark forever. Eventually, he’ll find out. He’ll be mad you lied to him.” She pointed out. If there’s anything Minjoon valued, it was honesty. Knowing his only family lied to him would crush the boy like no other.

“I know that. I just-” Hongjoong paused, looking for the right words. He glanced back out the window to see Minjoon giving Seonghwa a very detailed re-enactment of last week’s football game.  “Not yet. Let him be a kid for a little longer. I never got that.”

[solastnightidreamt]

Nightmare warning!

So, a little preface for this one- yesterday I was at Costco with my sister (Jo) and her husband (Brian) and my nephew (Milo) and I was running after him while they shopped around. At one point they head toward the registers but the Milo ran the other way so I just followed him and ran around with him for like 15 minutes. I finally was like ‘ok we should probably go find your mom now’ and I saw I had two missed calls. I called Brian back and he said that Jo was running around frantically looking for me. So as soon as he says that she rounds the corner with an employee and she looked thoroughly panicked. Apparently she’d told me that they were checking out, but I didn’t hear that part. All I heard was that she was going to that general direction, so I thought they were going to shop around while we ran off some of his energy. She thought I was gonna run after him and bring him back, so when I didn’t come right back she freaked out and thought we’d both been kidnapped from the store.

Que my nightmare...

Crystal and I were at our childhood home babysitting our nephew. We were just hanging out when two men in masks burst in and started trying to abduct her and Milo. I tried to fight them off and call 911 but I ended calling my Jo. I told her what was happening and she just yelled, ‘DAMAGED GOODS!’

For some reason, that clicked, and she was trying to tell me that if they were somehow damaged that the abductors wouldn’t want to take them. Realizing this, I turned to the knife block in the kitchen and grabbed a knife, then grabbed Milo and fucking stabbed him in the upper back/shoulder area. He started crying and bleeding and the guy trying to kidnap him literally just turned and walked out of the house.

I then ran over to my sister who had the other guy on top of her on the couch and stabbed her in the shoulder above her boob. The guy attacking her also walked out, but then I was left there with my two family members that I’d fucking STABBED.

I ran back over to my nephew and put my hand over the stab wound and he was losing a lot of blood, so much that I was afraid he was going to bleed to death. So I put pressure on his wound and called 911 for an ambulance and ran over to my sister. I was trying to keep pressure on both of them but couldn’t, so I kept pressure on my nephew’s shoulder/back and like unrolled an entire roll of toilet paper and threw it to my sister so she could stop her own bleeding, then I woke up.

[lifewithoutmeds]

july 17, 2023

quick recap of last 10 days: saturday, july 8: brunch with amy. cried. facetime therapy with kelda. cried. lorena’s bday surprise. held it together. reyna was kind enough to invite me and 7 of her friends/plus ones and we surprised lorena for her bday/welcome home at a localish bar. i held back tears but tried to engage as much as i could. limited success.

friday, july 9: dinner with steven. we cooked meats; he was particularly fond of the pork jowl, thankfully, as i had a whole package of it. he brought some soju and some other plum wine drink and he listened to me cry and was a good friend and promised that we’d see each other on wednesdays when we were both in office.  sunday, july 10: considered going to church but then just slept and stared at my phone all day. tuesday, july 11: met up lorena at BJ’s for some happy hour beers and mini pizza. saw my waitress crush. cried a little.

saturday, july 15: managed to leave the condo to go hang out with amy at her house for a few hours, maybe like 1:10pm-4:30pm. we caught up and i tried to engage with her kids but they’re kinda tiring and didn’t seem particularly interested in engaging with me either. left to go to the pacoima costco where i got gas, toilet paper, eggs, and bottled water, and had my toilet paper and eggs stolen out of my cart while i put condiments on my hotdog. costco quickly replenished my stolen goods when notified, but it made me pretty sad and disappointed with the state of the world. sunday, july 16: slept for 12 hours. stared at my phone for 12 hours. ate a frozen pizza and then puked up some of it at night. monday, july 17: tiny tiny steps. texted amy and tracy throughout the day. chatted with lana for a bit on teams. tried to do a little work. did a few loads of dishes, and took out some trash and recycling. was able to walk to ralphs and buy a few items: items for cauliflower dip, a gallon of vinegar so i can clean some things. an onion. made some cauliflower dip, rinsed the cauliflower, and ate some cauliflower (health). also talked to rhiannon for a bit as we laid out our camping plans (for this friday-sunday), read a chapter in my book on borderline personality disorder, and now am journaling, so today was my most productive day in a week.

it’s such a weird sensation to feel ... so heavy, so unmotivated, so listless, so bored. the only thing i kinda appreciate is eating. like i enjoy craving a food and then thinking of how i can like satisfy said craving. i went back and forth with tracy last week on pizzas, and really considered going someplace to satisfy my desire for pizza, but laziness and cheapness caught up with me so i ended up getting two reduced/clearance frozen pizzas at ralphs and eating them over the next three days and they were gross and made me feel terrible. but sometimes i’ll think mm, prime rib sounds good. hwedupbap sounds good. i haven’t gotten as far as acquiring said foods, but it’s nice to at least have desire, in any form.

another weird thing is how i’ve gotten so addicted to my phone, even though nothing in/on my phone particularly entertains me. but it’s like i can’t tear my eyes away. FORTUNATELY i’ve stopped watching police body cam and otherwise shaming videos on the youtube and started watching more “Try Guys” and like the hot wings eating challenges. i find myself watching a lot of clips from The Office, Parks and Rec, Friends, the Big Bang Theory, and weirdly Young Sheldon (all this just pops up on facebook and i just watch.) i guess it’s a positive development that at least my mind is gravitating more toward light things rather than the worst of humanity. i should be receiving my DVD’s this wednesday so i can more mindfully tune into my tv shows.

i feel like i’m at the bottom of a very big hill. a mountain, i guess. every step is hard and feels heavy and the mountain seems very big and unsurmountable and i kind of don’t quite get why i even have to climb it, but i do for some reason. i know i need to “do the work.” i know i need to figure this out, somehow, for some reason. i guess. finding motivation is hard. but every minute spent not staring at my phone i guess is a tiny tiny victory. i know that i need to stop sleeping away my problems and stop wasting away my life, but ... but it feels so hard. tracy asked today, whether i might not benefit from a healthy diet and exercise? granted, i can see how eating frozen pizzas and sleeping all day long would Not benefit me in the long run, but it’s just kinda wild how when you’re as depressed as i am, that literally feels like the only thing i’m capable of. and though i can understand conceptually how a walk might feel good, or getting groceries to make a nutritious meal might benefit me, it’s soooo stupidly hard to just get any momentum whatsoever.

i hope today was momentum. 

week ahead: tuesday: hoping to do a little laundry and gather up some items for the camping trip. wednesday: in office. thursday: happy hour with danielle friday - sunday: camping in french camp with rhiannon

i’m mildly dreading camping because it’s been so hot lately, and sometimes it’s hard to do things, like meal prep or clean up, and i’m a little nervous that i won’t have fun because of the way i’ve been feeling lately and i don’t want to sort of ruin one of the only things that’ve made me feel better in my life, but also, i’m telling myself that it’ll be good to be out in nature, to not stare at my phone, to focus on something outside of myself. i’ll bring a couple books and try to do some fishing. i hope it’ll be okay.

mood: 2.23

[lyd-jms-lwrs]

Heads and Three Tales - Foundation Art and Design Final Project 2022

How did I come up with this?

I am tired. Very tired. I am someone who does not believe in coincidences and I think things happen for a reason, but I also believe that the one who has the ultimate power about what happens in my life is me. And I am tired of waiting. I know what I was to pursue as a career – I want to create animations on the internet and have my own webcomic. This interest sparked from my interest in creating fanart but as I created my three characters for this, I have evolved into wanted to create original characters and content along with the fanart. And I was planning on waiting until I deemed myself good enough to start making content. Which is stupid. I want to do this and I want to do this now. So, I have.

My mother was the first one to ask me why – why am I doing this? Why not just create a painting or something a bit more simple? Why are you doing so much? And the only answer I could give her was that I want to do this. This is what I want to do in the future anyway so why bother waiting. Think of this as a test run. I was testing myself. Can I do this? Can I create three unique characters and give them an interesting enough personality to make people want to come back for more?

I don’t know if I have succeeded. I’ll have to find out on exhibition day. But even if people think it is lacking, I sure as hell had fun making this. Yes, there were moment where I wanted to cry and stop, but when you get to that point, you need to keep going. Because that is usually the sign you’ve got something good.

Sustainability

What does it mean to be sustainable? It means something that can be continued or a practice that maintains a condition without harming the environment. What is funny is that the topic of sustainability is that came naturally to me. I was focused on apocalyptic scenarios so sustainability is always relevant when talking about apocalypses.

I do not like spending money. I actually have an issue with it and it can get quite bad. I am someone who collects manga and every time a new volume of my favourite manga gets released, I feel guilty for buying it. It’s like there is a voice in my head telling me that if I buy this manga, then that will be a downwards spiral to me ending up becoming homeless. Yes, truly ridiculous thoughts. But I can’t help it. How does this link you may think? I needed cardboard but I was not prepared to spend money on getting some. There must be an easier way and sometimes companies charge you way too much for cardboard. So I thought back to the last personal project I did where I needed cardboard. It was a mini project where I made mob heads from characters from Minecraft. I had a little bit left but not enough to create all of these props and then on top of that these cardboard cutouts. Then I remembered we were running low on cat food and baked beans. So, I told my dad and he said that he noticed other things we were missing. A trip to COSTCO was announced. This was ideal for me because last time I needed cardboard, I simply just asked someone who worked at COSTCO if I could have some. They are going to throw it away anyway so why wouldn’t they let me make some art out of it.

References - Situationist International and more

Lydia James-Louwerse - FMP - Digital Sketchbook

Artists have always rejected the white cube of the gallery for many years and I have always noticed how much that inspired me. I have this craving to break out of the norm and not conform to what the gallery wants. By making my project interactive, I would have been able to express myself the way I wanted to and also make it more interesting for the viewer. I could have just made a picture, but that is just so dull. I wanted to do more. If I could I would have made a whole performance out of it such as artist Mierle Laderman Ukeles who once cleaned the stairs of a museum as her art work.

I took inspiration from the installation artists and focused more on creating an experience instead of just a simple piece of art. I wanted to create something more. Something I, and undoubtedly many others also experience when visiting an art gallery is ‘art gallery legs’. That sensation of your legs being achy and tired even though all you have done is stand and look at paintings. I hate this feeling a lot and I wanted to make sure people did not get that when visiting my part of the exhibition. That’s why the idea of placing pieces of my work around the building came so naturally to me. I want to create a show, a game if you will.

I did not want to stop this trend. Why would I suddenly stop creating art just to write about it? I decided to make everything involved in this project a part of my artwork including this workbook. To me, my project was like a story and every new thing I created was like turning a page to a new chapter. I decided to let you in on how that felt and displaying this workbook as a story as well. Enjoy.

[bluebirdzykaysies]

5.14 - day before momma leaves

Goddamnit I hate to admit it but I’m already thinking and crying like a baby in my head once my mom leaves me to go back home to sf. the feeling is mutual like melissa said cause she’ll probably be just as a wreck and all this time I’ve been spending with her, I’m cherishing even more. I’ve never felt like this and Victoria said the same thing; expecting that while I transition. But everyone needs to experience this. I DO, especially. I need the time away for a bit to miss them and I already miss those interactions with my brothers too of just lounging in the living room watching NBA games all night, or youtube videos like its judyslife or ustheduo.

Our lives have changed already and itll be so hard as I am bawling my eyes out, sitting in my newly mounted dining table my mom and I put together, facing outwards my window with the Chicago sun, beaming through at a whopping 54 degrees.

This is my life now, I will be on my own and making decisions on my own. Ive told a few folks that I’m sad yet annoyed my moms time here was a bit much. But I know it was perfect for what it is. We’ve been tired each and everytime, her actions speak volumes and our conversations arent as deep as I want, but I know this quality time was one that will impact my life forever. Even though I hate to admit it or will say this to her face. i love my mom. so much, she means so much to me and my brothers. The amount of things she does unselfishly aka drive my freaking car with just her and hector for 5 days cross country. do what she did to make me help settle, there is no one like her. and I will forever appreciate her and love her.

She is opinionated and still felt like I couldnt decide for myself but this will be also a time where I speak up and use my voice. Saying NO.

ugh the tears keep falling down but some highlights from this past week were:

- Silly vlog videos that I actually may put together when I get the time

- 5/6; arrived - went to container store to buy my elfa shelving for my closet. Super nice lady that worked there Hector spoke to. Went to world market to check out their furniture and standing mirrors. TJ Maxx/HomeGoods and picked up some bathroom essentials, shower curtain, mats and beddings, Facetimed Yan/Ronz/Brent+Rick at night (10pm CST) 

Mom stayed with Hector at Courtyard Marriot til Saturday 5/8. So I wanted to stay at the apartment for the first time alone and enjoy the moment and soak it all in. Parking at my garage alone, randomly waking up to the SUNRISE at 545am and just being in awe of my new city... I could just cry

Didn’t get my wifi set up yet so the struggle was real a bit. The air mattress we got from costco has been tough to sleep on but eventually Ill get my mattress. Just have been torn with my furniture not being here since everything was rushed and happened so quickly. Learnings from the move thus far:

-Write a damn list, I DID NOT. Aka thats why a bunch of junk and unnecessary things were with my mom and hector in the car. All couldve been bought here. I ocouldve taken more clothes and shoes

-Alot of my clothes aka my favorite jean jacket and pink/mauve henley was left at home. My running shoes - I decided not to prioritize idk fucking why *rolls eyes* and alot of my other valuables. Brendan is nice enough to ship it. Its not worth to buy a RT flight and go there and take it all back with me... no. :( I would though tbh if I was in LA. lol make couple trips but I’m far enough that its like.... whewww is it worth but one day I will come back and visit. For now, its slated for Oct

5/7 Friday; I had it off started the day late at 12pm and booked my mom, hector and myself tickets to the skydeck. my mom was HILARIOUS, she was scared at first and thought it would be a huge platform to see under but once she saw its just a small piece of glass over 105 floors, it wasnt THAT bad. Her and hector are hilarious together and annoying a little LOL. but I guess they’re cute

Went to Wrigley Field while there was a game and that was an experience. Fans at the top of their houses, Security all over the block, streets closed, fans everywhere. Its such a historical building in the middle of a freaking neighborhood so it made itself unique vs att/oracle park being so secluded down in mission bay.

RPM Steak for dinner in River North. Valet’d the car and Hector treated us to a Missouri Steak? it was bomb though but I wanted Medium and he wanted medium rare... cream of spinach, mac and cheese, asparagus and for dessert topped with a Baked Alaskan. Whatever that is. (It was good) and my first time trying it.. me and mom. Our waitor was a nice lady in her 30s, gave me tori kelly vibes. Then another worker stopped by our table who looked filipino for sure (Rox’s ex Dennis look a like) but I already for got his name. He told us how he lived in West Town too and would eat at this bomb restaurant called “Uncle Mikes” maybe the ‘superstar’ of chicago :) hectors jokes were a bit much saying climbing up the coconut tree and asking if he can make halo halo in the back for dessert. No sir....

5/8 Saturday; Plan was to visit Macys downtown to check out furniture at around 930am. But they werent open til 11am. We checked out the Bean at Millenium Park and my mom got to see all the tulips and flowers. We waited in line for a while at Stans Donuts since Wildberry was just too WILD and packed, so we walked a block down and had ourselves some coffee and donuts for the day. After we headed to Macys and were greeted by a tall man name Hilary. he’s THEEE BEST. he knew we didnt have to buy anything from him at macys but he’s such a sales guy and has been in this business for so long that he kept tlaking about Quality of furniture and making yourself feel comfy and at home. Being in a small apt, or living out alone for the first time, separating each section once winter hits so you’re not bored out of your mind in the small place. He was so friendly and nice, I took his business card. Went to Ashley’s on the way to the airport and got gas. Feel in love with the small dinette table they had but the one I’m sitting on now I feel like is just perfect. Soletren couch will forever be out of stock and I will never let this go :( honestly dont know how itll fit in my door but i guess i will settle for something reasonable and decent in size

IVE BEEN SPENDING SO MUCH MONEY. . . . . . . I cant even. I got paid today so todays check will be sponsoring all of my credit card funds. Gna just pay it off in full so I dont have to deal with it. But going forward a budget will be set. and luckily some of the things I bought work can reimburse so I’ll do expenses sunday perhaps.

Saturday evening after dropping off hector, we did errands in the suburbs and went to a walmart. a bit ghetto lookin but its fine. Decided to go to costco after but had an incidentn with this white man who bumped my car and didnt apologize. I was going to say something but we’re so far out in the suburbs Idk what the hell he wouldve done to me. And if they’re racist out there. took the long way home and it was prob not through the safest neighbor hoods but my mom didnt have to know since traffic on the freeway was just ALOT. omg and the roads are just so bumpy, my poor car. Becca said she has a guy at a shop her family always goes to so hopefuully I wont need him but just nice to know the option is there.

Went to the costco up by roscoe village and bought food and more essentials like medicine i have a whole pharmacy.  again throughout all this, my mom is the MVP. I wouldve been like, Ill go get it when I need it vs mom stocking up beforehand. We ended up setting my living room with a japanese style seating using my elfa shelving as the table and a towel over it. Leftovers from RPM for dinner and ribs/salad from costco. (I keep eating, and we’re not walking alot so....... I’m def gaining wait and will need to lose this asap)

I’ll be back more to cover this past week; mothers day, ikea, seafood city, hanging with becca, azul mariscos, drunk at ross and dollar tree, pants falling (mom) unbuttoned pants cuz we’re so ‘stuffffffed’ hanging with the boys via facetime cause I do miss them :( I need to havea schedule with them.

kk toodles. time to go back to work. no more crying (maybe) then an architecture tour with my mom <3 and dinner at a steakhouse at MJ’s on Michigan Ave BYeeeee