#when he realizes how young she was when june turns 19

[minimooberry]

me when the relationship is doomed by the narrative and not by their own faults

thinking about seth and shivaani do much rn,, me and seth are beefing bc shivaanis life is literally so sad and its his fault!! men dont deserve shit yall😒😒

[sohnric]

millennium bug – e. sohn

pairing: eric sohn x fem! reader

genre: 90s au, twenty-five twenty-one au, brother's best friend au, childhood friends au, fluff, slice of life, coming of age. older brother! sunwoo. essentially just eric being baek yijin. oct-nov scenes inspired by weak hero class 1. no plot just vibes im sorry

warnings: minimal swearing and thats all lol

word count: 19k

a/n: posting a fic for a new fandom is always so scary pls be nice to me deobiblr bc im literally abt to cry. also yes i am calling this a 2521 au bc the plot is so heavily inspired it might just be one. a special thank you goes out to @csenke for dragging me into stanning this group i am enjoying myself 🤞

there are some pros and cons to not having friends growing up. cons: you're always forced to tag along with your brother and his group wherever he goes. pros: his childhood best friend is kind of hot.

JUNE OF 1999

Being Kim Sunwoo’s younger sister is no bed of roses sometimes.

Sure, you get the occasional excitement of having him bring you rollerskating with you down the hill or the ever so rare moments of him defending you in front of your mother when you two have done something wrong (while never saying he was in on the bad act as well, of course), but more than often, you are met with his disgusted looks and insults whenever the two years older boy passes by your room and casually bangs at the door just to spite you.

His snarky looks are especially ones to remember. Maybe it’s because he offers them to you often– much like in this very moment, completely unprovoked, and completely not by your fault.

“But mum–”

“I already told you, Sunwoo,” your mother looks at him with a stern look in her eye, the one that makes chills run down your spine, “you can go if you take Y/N with you.”

“But nobody’s bringing their sister! Mum, come on–”

“Take it or leave it, young man.”

And see, your brother may be 19 years old, but he’s still in need of getting permission to leave the house if it includes an overnight stay. It’s an unspoken rule he always follows, since he’s usually granted the right to leave, but the result of his conversation was different than what he expected this time. And see, you may be just two years younger than him (one year left until you are an adult), but even though your mother is too busy to take care of you and entertain your slowly adultling self on most days because of her highly demanding job, she always makes sure that you don’t stay alone for long, and that’s exactly why (you realize, contrary to your brother) she insists on making you tag along on Sunwoo’s trip to the beach house with his friends.

The male grunts and turns on his heel, not giving your mother another response– and with this, you know she won. And that means you’ll have to pack your bag soon, because you know that there’s no way Sunwoo would miss going to the beach house with his friends– even if it meant making his little sister tag along.

And sure enough, Lee Juyeon’s minivan pulls up into your driveway only a few hours later, and the sound of the honking outside is enough for your older brother to aggressively drag you outside of the house, shutting the door behind you and hollering an angry “Bye mum!” to your mother. Your figure is handled with the least amount of care possible as you’re thrown towards the white van, the door opened and 5 heads already peeking out with expecting eyes, waiting for your brother’s arrival.

“My mum made my stupid sister go with me, so I hope we have space for one more,” Sunwoo huffs as he throws his bag into the trunk, slamming it with more force than was necessary (boy does he know how to throw a scene), an encouraging voice of none other than Juyeon– the driver himself– landing in your ear. 

“Sure, just hop in!”

With that, your feet finally unglue themselves off the ground and bring you into the vehicle. You’re familiar with his friends– since a scenario like this hasn’t happened for the first time and you had to spend your fair time with Sunwoo’s circle growing up, mainly because you never really had many friends yourself. You’re not close with any of them, though, and you’re sure you haven’t seen half of them for ages. 

Lee Juyeon is the responsible one of the group. You’re comfortable with the fact that he’s the driver, since you’re not entirely sure if you’d trust any of the other men in this space behind the wheel (you fear the day your brother gets a driver’s license. You'd bet a million dollars that he’ll die while driving recklessly one day). Next to him on the passenger’s seat is Choi Chanhee, his best friend, carrying a map in his hands and twirling it in all possible directions to get his friend on the right track. In the three-seat behind those two is Ju Haknyeon, Ji Changmin and your brother himself, and in the very back of the whole van, almost in the trunk, you’re sat next to Eric Sohn– your brother’s childhood best friend.

“Hi guys,” you offer a greeting to all of them, settling into the uncomfortable leather seat (that’s peeling off, just by the way), watching as the rest of the men pay you no mind and ignore your voice, falling into a comfortable conversation with each other.

Sighing, because this always happens– your brother gets too annoyed because he has to bring you with him all the time, and you imagine his friends aren’t fond of the fact either– you settle deeper into the seat and cross your hands on your chest, looking outside of the window. You can’t imagine enjoying your trip now, since you feel like you’re a nuisance, a child they have to take care of (yes, it embarrasses you just the tiniest bit, you have to admit. Although, you do enjoy getting out of the house from time to time), and the fact that your feelings were probably more than justified and also true has you pouting, an unsatisfied feeling weighing at your lungs.

“Hi,” a voice resonates from your side, the sight of a smiling Eric peering at you taking you off guard. You didn’t expect anyone to react to your greeting– not so delayed anyway– and the sight of your brother’s best friend carrying on in the conversation with you has you shocked beyond belief. “Excited?”

Finding yourself hum in agreement– how much you are still excited for the pool and for the sun, you’re not really sure– and although you are upset, something about his open and nice demeanor has you visibly relaxing, the sparkles inviting themselves back into your eyes. “I’ve never been to the beach,” you admit, seeing Eric gasp at you in surprise.

“Really?” he asks. “I go every year with my parents.”

“Well,” you hum, “you know how my mother is…” you sigh, chewing on the inside of your cheek. It’s easier to joke about it than to actually let the fact get to you– with your mother being the main news anchor, she is too busy to actually go on trips and form bonds with her own children sometimes. That’s why you spent most of your childhood at Eric’s family’s house in the first place– this is what made you the closest with Sunwoo’s same aged friend. His parents were nice enough to let you stay over and have sleepovers whenever your mum had to leave suddenly and take week-long trips abroad, or have emergency shifts during late evenings. 

Eric hums, sympathizing with you. “Well, at least you get to experience it now!”

“Yeah,” you awkwardly nod, playing with the hem of your jean shorts. It’s the shorts you made yourself by cutting the legs off your favorite pants after you grew out of them and they got too short, and they’re starting to look a little worn-out now. Maybe you should beg your mum to get you some new clothing.

The conversation between the boys grows in volume, doing nothing to help you to relax in the crowded vehicle. You can’t really find a place to fit yourself in and talk, the topics too unfamiliar for you and the feeling of not even being welcome in the discussion sitting heavy on your chest, when a finger bears itself to the flesh of your thigh, making you snap your head around to gape at the source of the contact. Eric looks at you with a boyish grin, sparkles evident in his eyes.

“Wanna see something?” he asks.

“Sure.”

The male digs around his backpack, hands searching through the contents of his bag for only a couple of seconds– since he’s the neat one, contrary to your messy brother– before he takes out a small gadget: a square with a little screen on top, a silver, circular button space sitting big in the very middle of the device. Eric throws the thing into your lap, smiling when you take it into your hands and examine it with curious eyes.

“Have you seen one before? My dad got it for me last week,” he boosts, satisfied with your reaction to it. 

Your mother’s job pays quite well– meaning that you usually have the latest gadgets, the latest trends– but if you’re being honest, you haven’t seen one of these in real life before. Yes, you caught a glimpse of an ad for it in the town center, on one of the big billboards while passing by to get to school in the morning, so you know that it’s an MP3 player, but still; this was your first time touching one and examining it in real life. 

“How does it work?” you ask, watching as the boy scoots from his seat to the middle one, so he is now sitting directly next to you, before he takes out wired headphones from the first department of his backpack and turns the little square over in his hands, finding where the jack goes.

“You put those in,” he says, plugging in the headphones, “and then you press this…” he explains, taking the device out of your hand and pushing on the power button for a few seconds, “and then it should play.”

Watching him with expecting eyes, the boy finally puts the MP3 player back into your hold. Then, his fingers swiftly put the respective earphones into your ears– like you’d do to a little kid that has no idea how they work, making you a little flushed at the action– and after that, you’re left with the sound of an unfamiliar song playing in your ears, making the sound of the chatter in the van completely tune out. Eric keeps on watching you, a sense of pride in his eyes as you nod at him, all excited with the new explory, before he takes one of the earphones out of your ear, grinning.

“Cool, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “The song is good,” you dumbly say, watching as the boy next to you pridefully nods at the compliment, resting his back against the car seat. 

“It’s the H.O.T album. My dad says they’re good,” he mumbles, moving the headphone he took from you and placing it into his ear, making you nod at him in acknowledgement. The action has your insides bubble with disappointment, thinking that the fun is over as you reach for the other earphone as well, offering it to the male.

Eric looks at you with a shocked pout, shaking his head. “No, we can share!” he says, pointing towards your ear. “If you want, of course.”

The action has you smiling, a shy nod escaping out of you as you reach and put the earphone back into your ear, letting yourself fall deeper into the car seat, listening to the song from Eric’s MP3 player. You’re grateful for his presence– he didn’t have to keep up a conversation with you. He could ignore you, just like the rest of his friend group always has. Maybe it was something about the two of you growing up together that always made the boy at least a bit more affectionate towards you than the rest.

You spend the car ride to the beach house with Eric leaning on your side, listening to music and his occasional blabbering about how his previous days went. 

Somehow, you're glad the seat beside him was the only vacant one when you arrived to the vehicle.

YOUR SEVENTH BIRTHDAY, 1989

You don't quite remember when you met Eric for the first time, if you’re being completely honest. The first memory you have of him is of your seventh birthday party, although you’re almost certain the boy’s been present at some point of your life before– at one point, you think you saw a picture of him and Sunwoo, two chubby toddlers, watching you as you laid on a blanket on the ground somewhere in your photo album. As far as you’re concerned, he may as well have been there when your mother brought you back from the hospital– although you think he must have been too young for that back then.

The first memory you have of Eric Sohn is the day you turned seven– a gloomy, sad day that in the moment, you prayed you wouldn’t have to remember in the first place.

It was already established that while your brother is the social butterfly, you don’t have a big friend group. Actually, you could count the number of your friends on one hand, and since the amount wasn’t as big, your mother allowed you to invite them all over to your house to celebrate your birthday with you. 

She baked a cake, she decorated the living room, hell, she even took a day off from work– something you deemed special, for it doesn’t happen often– and as you sat on the floor of your living room, the cake standing proud on the small coffee table, waiting for your friends to arrive, you hummed a song under your breath, the clock slowly passing the time you agreed for them to come over and celebrate.

At first, you didn’t mind it– everybody gets late sometimes, it’s okay. It was just a birthday party, and you had a lot of time. Not everything had to be set on schedule.

But the closer the clock moved to being one hour, than two after the time your friends were supposed to come, you grew worried. Your mother’s nervous pacing around the living room and her heavy sighs as she sat next to you on the floor, smiling at you in what you can only explain as sad way made you more and more anxious about the fact that you only had three friends, but all three of them seemed to not care enough to come celebrate your birthday with you. And as your mother finally took the final bow in the form of a soft hand on your inner thigh, her tone gentle as she called your name– “Y/N, I think we should light the candles,” you began to tear up.

You were supposed to eat the cake with your friends. You were supposed to hear them sing the birthday song to you. You were supposed to turn on the radio and dance around with your classmates, eat the sweets and unwrap the cheap, but heartfelt gifts they brought along with them to celebrate your birthday. 

But none of these scenarios were happening, and you felt incredibly, incredibly lonely and sad. Forgotten, if you will. Not cared for, definitely.

Hiding your face into your hands, you started to cry. This disappointment was too big for your small heart to take, and you no longer cared about the cake, the candles, the seaweed soup your mother cooked for you to celebrate, the gifts, or the party. All you wanted to do was hide in your room and never come out– something about the whole situation felt deeply embarrassing, and to this day, the moment before the whole day turned around still makes you feel a bit ashamed of yourself. 

Too busy crying, you didn’t notice your older brother watching you with big bambi eyes, a worried glance sent your way each time your sobs grew louder and louder. And maybe the boy only wanted to taste the cake (he’s been bugging your mum about it since the very morning, but he was always sent off with a scolding look telling him that he’ll get a slice when everyone arrives), but no matter what his true intentions were, his actions still managed to pull your seventh birthday party together in a way you never imagined.

The sound of the front door faintly resonated in your brain somewhere in the middle of your aimless sobbing, but you paid it no mind, thinking it was just Sunwoo going out to the yard to kick the ball. See, your older brother had never really known what to do when you cried growing up– it didn’t matter if he was the reason for your tears or if anyone else was. If he was the reason for your emotional outbursts, he tried to shut you up with his palm and get you to stop crying before his mother found out and gave him a scolding, but if someone else was, the small boy sometimes turned angry at the source. Kicking his classmate that once made a snarky comment about you and made you tear up or punching his friend when he was too harsh with you was all he knew to do in these situations, so he wasn’t the one to comfort you with words or hugs. It was only natural for him to escape in this situation.

You were brought to a state of shock and surprise when a hand landed on your shoulder, a familiar voice breaking you from your emotional turmoil.

“Why are you crying? We have to eat the cake!” you heard, your big, sad eyes meeting the small figure of the boy living next door, your brother nervously stepping from one side to the other right behind his best friend. “Can you light the candles, Mrs?” Eric politely asked your mum, pointing towards the cake waiting sadly at the coffee table, the figure of your mother leaving your side only shortly to get the matches from the kitchen and illuminate your face with the small flames.

Confusion mirrored your features as you watched your brother and his best friend sing the birthday song to you while your mum lit your candles, both boys clapping and dancing around, acting silly just to get a laugh from you. You didn't know how Eric got there, but you guessed there are some good sides to having him as your neighbor. The energetic boy did his best to brighten up your mood a bit, and when you blew out the candle, making a wish, Sunwoo even went as far as smashing your face into the cake to bring in the full birthday authenticity.

That got him a slap to the back of his head from your mother, as well as made you stand up from your position– no longer making you look like a disappointed bulk of pity– and chase him around the room, icing falling off your nose to the laminated floor. You got your revenge and smeared the chocolate all over his forehead (he let you chase him down only because it was your birthday and he really, really hated to see his sister cry, but he won’t ever tell you that) and as the three of you sat back down to the floor, watching your mother slice the cake and offer it to you on small white plates, you realized you suddenly weren't as sad anymore.

“What did you wish for?” Eric asked you, mouth full of cake and face messy with chocolate.

“I can’t tell you,” you hummed, eyebrows furrowed. “Then it won’t come true.”

“You probably wished for that doll you saw in the store the other day,” Sunwoo snickered as he swallowed, having you glare at him and send a sharp kick to his shin, unwatched by your mother (thankfully), as the boy fought you back, having no mercy.

Music suddenly filled the room as Eric stood up and put the radio on, his 9 year old brain smart enough to know how the device worked, his small figure dancing away to the songs playing on the single radio station you could play without carefully sorting out the antenna so it faced the north, and truly, you didn’t know how it happened, but it had you standing up and dancing around, exactly how you'd imagined doing with your friends from school.

The day wasn’t ruined– quite the opposite, really. It was one of your favorite birthday parties, and ever since then, Eric was invited to every single one you had after. And while Sunwoo may act like he doesn’t hate anything more in this world than having a younger sister, every time you feel like a burden to him, you remember this very afternoon.

You will never tell anyone what you wished for that day– but just to let everyone in on the secret, 

it was to somehow, just like Sunwoo, find someone like Eric for yourself as well. 

JUNE OF 1999

Standing at the side of the pool, eyes squinting from the inevitable force of the sun, you’re starting to regret your decision of coming along just a little. See, you usually don’t protest whenever Sunwoo aggressively drags you around and brings you everywhere he’s supposed to, because even though you love to see your brother angry (especially when you’re the reason behind the emotion), you’d also hate to see him miss out, but now, as the scorching hot sun is having no mercy on every exposed inch of skin– and believe me, there’s a lot of it, since you’re wearing your swimming trunks– and the sweat on your forehead is no longer culminating in beads, but rolling painfully slowly down your forehead, you do admit you’d be a little bit happier in the shade of your little room than here, watching the guys play volleyball in the comfort of the freezing cold pool.

And as the only female around the house, you settle with the patriarchy and bring out a small folding chair and a camping table alongside with a big, sharp knife, struggling to hoist up the giant watermelon you got in a grocery store on your way to the beach house, with the intention of cutting it and serving it to the guys later. Who knows, maybe they’ll like you a little more after that. 

The knife sinks into the thick green skin of the watermelon easily, and so as you accompany yourself with the excited (and not so excited screams coming from the losing side of the game– mainly your brother himself), you cut up the fruit into halves, then quarters, and as you stare at the moon crescents settled on the camping table, you decide to play nice and cut up the fruit into smaller triangles as well, to really get on everyone’s good side.

The yearning for male validation awakes in a woman pretty early on in life. It’s an inevitable misfortune.

“Told you Sunwoo’s all talk but no game!” you hear Haknyeon yell out as the game seemingly ends, the younger boy lunging at him in the pool, fighting him for the truthful words. Glancing at the commotion, you notice the guys slowly getting out of the pool, making you heave out in victory– you’re finally gonna have your turn in the pool. Well, if they don’t decide to occupy it again before you even get a chance to get in.

“Y/N! You cut up the watermelon?” Eric asks a very obvious question, walking up to you with beads of water all over his half-naked body. His dark hair is damply sitting against his forehead, making him look like a wet puppy, but as the male gets closer to you, he drags his palm through the locks and pushes them back, revealing his forehead– a sight sweet to your eyes, but you refuse to pay it much attention in the heat of the moment. It’s just the sun making you delirious as the idea of finding him attractive flashes through your brain, that’s all. 

“I did! Take one,” you smile, watching as the rest of the guys walk over to your little stand– while also obnoxiously swatting out water out of their hair like dogs, refusing to use towels like normal people– and finally, there it comes: appreciative smiles appear on their faces as they each take a piece, biting down on the fruit with delighted sighs.

Sunwoo walks up to you with a surprised look on his face, sighing as he messes with your hair. “If I knew you’d be our servant, I wouldn’t have even minded you going in the first place.”

“You do something nice for people and they jump on the chance to exploit you,” you hum, shaking your head in disbelief. “That’s just like you, Kim Sunwoo.”

“No, that’s just me having older brother privileges.”

“I hope you choke on that, you know,” you bite at him, pointing towards the piece of sweet watermelon in his hands, the smile on his face turning bitter. There’s a satisfied look on your face when your brother does, indeed, choke on a watermelon seed a few seconds later– and they say dreams don’t come true.

“You didn’t have to,” you hear Eric speak up from the other side, your head turning to face the male, his features appreciative and warm. “Thank you,” he beams. There’s redness on the tip of his nose and his forehead, signaling his quickly approaching sunburn, and you can’t help but laugh out at his clueless, Rudolph the red nosed reindeer self. 

“What’s so funny?” he asks, furrowing his eyebrows at you in question.

“Nothing,” you peep, “you just look like you forgot to use sunscreen,” you mumble, watching as the male gasps and touches his face, a horrified expression overtaking him when the skin under his fingertips burns to the touch. 

“I didn’t forget! It must have rubbed off in the pool,” he mourns, “I must look stupid!” 

“Only a little,” you tease, a grin overtaking your features. See, there’s something about the fact that you’ve known Eric for the entirety of your whole life that makes you more prone to teasing him– you’re familiar with your dynamics and just how far you can go, so his next actions startle you just the tiniest bit as the male looks sternly at you, throwing the half-eaten watermelon slice to the camping table. You thought you had the risks calculated– apparently, you didn't.

“What did you say?”

Examining his features, seeing no signs of anger– just the stoic, fakely-offended face of your brother’s childhood best friend– you shrug. “That you look a bit stupid with your face like that.”

“Oh, okay,” he nods, “you’re going down for that.”

“What do you mea–”

Your words are cut short when the male lunges at you, his arms enveloping your thighs and holding you up. The contact of his cold skin from the pool and your heated figure makes goosebumps appear all over your body, your hands instinctively reaching around him to support yourself as he walks closer to the pool– his intentions are suddenly painfully clear and you start to panic. 

“This will teach you to respect your elders,” Eric huffs, the turquoise surface of the water slowly coming into your point of view.

“Stop! Stop-stop-stop,” you squirm, kicking your feet and trying to take down the predator, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, alright?”

The male takes a halt for a split second– making you foolishly believe he’ll let you off– before he breaks out into a devilish grin and continues to walk to the edge of the pool. “Too late.”

“Eric!” you scream, the volume of your voice resonating through the whole beach, your heart thumping wild against your ribcage with the awaiting process. You’re not even sure what you’re scared of anymore– you can swim and you bet the water will feel nice against the scorching sun– but still, you’re absolutely terrified as the male has no mercy on you, carrying you steadily towards the water. “At least let me tie my hair first! You can dump me in after, I promise,” you mourn, trying to buy yourself more time.

“Alright,” he nods, waiting at the very edge of the pool, leaving you to take the purple scrunchie off your wrist and gather your hair together, preparing to tie it into a bun so it doesn’t get in your way when you’re in the pool. The hair tie is just at the tips of your fingertips, the first loop over the hair ready to be done, when a scream cuts out of your throat.

The feeling of falling suddenly overtakes your body, leaving you no time to prepare yourself for the impact of the cold water against your skin and all up in your nose, since you didn’t pluck it when you were dumped into the pool. The fall only lasts a split second until you’re below the water, the force of it resonating in your ears, and when you finally act on your instincts and stand up in the pool (it wasn’t even that deep in the first place, only reaching to your upper stomach), you cough out all the water and pray to gods you don’t throw up chlorine into the freshly cleaned pool. After you’re done catching your breath and getting oxygen into your lungs again, you do your best at getting all the hair out of your face. 

There is laughter landing into your ears as soon as you manage to get all the water out of them by leaning your head to the side and violently slapping each one, and when your eyes look up, you see an amused Eric Sohn bending over in his waist at your disheveled appearance. 

Grunting and pointing a finger to the criminal that almost made you drown, you huff out. “I’ll kill you! Just you watch.”

Your scrunchie nowhere to be found, forever lost somewhere outside of the beach house, you think, as it flew off your hand in the impact of the attack, shock makes your figure shake alongside of the coldness of the water, making you audibly sigh. 

Yes. You do regret coming along just a little.

JULY OF 1999

Somewhere along the way, Eric Sohn starts acting as if he’s your second older brother. Sure, you’ve known the male your whole entire life and he’s seen you grow up, but it took him 17 years of your life to come to a point where he gives you equal amount of attention whenever he’s over at your house than he does to your brother, and even asks Sunwoo if you’re coming along with them whenever they leave to hang out somewhere else. It’s a change that comes naturally and slowly, and you welcome it unknowingly– the revelation shocks you on a hot summer day, though, when the idea finally comes to you in full force.

You would even argue and say Eric acts more like your brother than your actual sibling does– he asks if you’ve eaten and listens to you when you talk (which Sunwoo never does, well, except from when he’s arguing with you). Eric even compliments your outfits sometimes and lets you borrow his MP3 player from time to time– Sunwoo would never share his things with you, no matter how hard you pleaded and threatened to tell your mum. Yes, your brother's an adult and you’re one year away from becoming one– you still resolve your conflicts through your only parent, though. Some things, you never grow out of.

“I wanna try using the skateboard now, Sunwoo,” you order sternly when the boy finally reaches your destination. You’ve been sitting on the sidewalk for quite some time now, since your brother and his friend decided that they’re gonna try out their new skateboards on the hottest day of the year. Your town doesn’t have fancy skateparks and ramps like the ones you’ve seen in the music videos on TV, so you don’t really know what initially made the two buy those things, but you do admit that even driving up and down the road in front of your house does seem a little fun– so much you’d love to try it.

“What a shame we all wish for things we can’t have,” he shrugs ironically, shaking his head at you from his position above. The male reaches down for his bag, taking out a water bottle and putting it against his plush lips, all while you glare at him from below, still seated in your initial position. Eric comes up to you two, squishing at the soft plastic bottle in Sunwoo’s hold, making the water splash your older brother in the face, leaving a winning grin to be shared between you and the shorter boy, an expression that makes you all warm on the inside. See, at least Eric always has your back.

“You can try mine, if you want,” the latter shrugs, offering you a smile.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “why not?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “I just didn’t expect you to offer, since as you saw, my dear brother just refused when I asked…” you mumble, standing up from the sidewalk and taking the skateboard into your hand. Eric offers it to you with an outstretched arm and watches as you put the board on the floor, squinting at it with much examination.

“Do you know how to ride it?” he asks.

“No,” you shake your head, “but I mean, if Sunwoo can do it, how hard can it really be?” you joke, seeing as the said boy glares at you, finally finishing his water and dropping the bottle to the ground. 

“I’ll remind you of that statement when you eat shit on the pavement,” he shushes you, rolling his eyes. 

Not paying more attention to the grumpy being that is your own brother, you relocate your attention back to the skateboard on the heated road. You’re lucky you live on a street where cars don’t often drive by, since your neighborhood is on the very edge of the town, so you don’t really fear being run over by a pickup truck. What you do worry about, though, is your lacking sense of balance, which you discovered when you learned how to ride the bike for the first time. While your brother was a professional in no time, it took you weeks to get it right, and so with the idea of riding a board that provides you zero sense of security, you get a bit worried for your own life.

Dragging your hair out of your face and aimlessly trying to tuck it behind your ears– there’s no use in trying though, as the strands slip out just as fast as they found their place– you keep staring at the board only a few centimeters away from your feet, mentally calculating your next move. There’s a noise of a backpack being opened and rustling around in the background of your miserable thoughts, and when you look up to see what’s going on, you notice Eric offering you a small, purple bundle of fabric. 

“What’s that?” you ask, even though the answer is clear as the day– you recognise your own scrunchie with no problem. You’re just surprised to see it in his hold. You thought it was forever buried somewhere in the beach house, since you weren’t able to find it after you got out of the pool, no matter how hard you tried.

“Oh,” he shrugs, amidst a little too nonchalantly, “I found it and figured it was yours, but I forgot to give it back to you then… it seems like you need it now, though,” he offers you an explanation, lips pressed into a thin line that slightly signifies a smile.

“Ah,” you gasp, nodding as you take the hair tie out of his outstretched palm, gathering your hair into a bun and tying it up on the crown of your head– the staring contest you’ve been having with the board is much clearer now, when you don’t have your messy strands in the way. The idea of Eric keeping your scrunchie after finding it at the beach house makes your stomach do a weird kind of turn– you guess it made you a bit weirded out, if you’re being honest.

“Want some help with that?” he asks, pointing towards his skateboard.

Nervous, cracking your knuckles as you meet his eyes– he looks a bit amused, but still genuine– you nod, admitting defeat. There’s no way you’re getting on top of that board without help and not falling down. It’s always better to be safe than to be sorry, and so when Eric laughs airly at your composure and takes a few steps closer towards you, you let the male lead you, finding comfort in his secure words and actions.

Eric offers you his arms to hold when you try to get on the skateboard. He is peering at you from under his eyelashes when you put one of your legs onto the wood, his grip on your forearm getting firmer when you try to get your other foot on as well– and you must admit that you suddenly don’t feel like you might die anymore when there’s someone holding you and standing by your side. 

“See? It’s not that hard,” Eric mumbles, his voice low and reassuring from the proximity. You notice your hands sweating a little when his palm envelopes yours– damn the sun and its unbearable heat making you embarrass yourself– but he doesn’t mention it as he firmly holds you and meets your eyes. “I’m gonna drag you around a bit so you get used to it before trying yourself,” he says before taking a few steps forward, preparing to be your own type of personal driver.

Having him instruct you and help you around makes you feel more comfortable on the board. Sunwoo would never do such a thing for you– he’d enjoy watching you fall down and break your neck and possibly die– so you’re more than happy to have someone in your life that takes care of you in ways your older brother refuses to. 

The skateboard moves forward a little, starting slow, but then picking up speed as Eric jogs a little, making you laugh at the action. He does not have to go above and beyond, but he still does– but you guess it’s good for him to let out his energy somewhere. After a while, he looks back at you and meets your eye with a warm gaze, making you nod at him reassuringly and hold up a thumb of the hand he’s not holding right now, signaling that you’re okay and enjoying yourself. That has the male let go of your hand and let you take the road with the laws of physics, moving forward by yourself with the force he created. 

It’s nice. It’s fun. 

Yes, you totally understand why Eric and Sunwoo wanted skateboards after seeing them on TV. Hell, you want one now.

“Try it yourself now!” Eric encourages you as the board naturally comes to a stop under you, and his smiling face is enough for you to take initiative and nod, relocating one foot off the wood and placing it on the floor, then kicking it and making yourself move on the simple vehicle.

A moment of surprise envelopes you like a warm hug when you manage to not fall off and keep your balance, the joy of it making you try to go faster on the board, kicking once, twice against the pavement with the sole of your old, beaten up shoe. “I’m doing it!” you yell, glancing back at Eric standing on the sidewalk, watching you with excited eyes. The male offers you a victorious holler, something that makes you break into a laugh, makes your confidence blossom in marvelous ways.

Confidence rises in you so much you try to take a U-turn and go back to your teacher– perhaps showing off that you really got the hang of it now, or something– but as you try to maneuver the board and turn right, there it comes: the moment where you realize that you were, once again, too overly-confident in your abilities that are, sadly, very poor. Your body sways from side to side, your poor balance laughs at you and points an accusing finger at your attempts, and, well, to put it frankly, your whole life flashes in front of your eyes and the moment plays in slow motion as you lose the board from below your feet– the wood flying somewhere to the opposite side of the road, not at all where you meant to go in the first place– and your body inevitably comes crashing to the ground.

Awaiting the hard pavement meeting your nose and breaking it, you brace yourself with palms outstretched in front of you, the last remains of self-perseverance entering the sane parts of your brain in what you think are the last seconds of your miserable life. Another moment of surprise greets you when your yelp is muffled against something soft and your hands don’t hit the hard pavement, your ears filled with a grunt that belongs to another human swiftly chiming in and catching you before you fall.

Firm hands hold your waist– the touch somehow familiar, enveloping you in a strange sense of deja vu– and even though your body goes limp in terror, the male has you back on your feet in no time, his palms on the exposed skin of your stomach. The realization has you burning up as you look up and meet Eric’s eyes, gasping at the closeness of his face to yours. 

“You okay over there?” he asks as you unconsciously study his face– you never noticed his nose looked this nice up close– before you wake out of it and nod urgently, breaking away from his hold. You’re not gonna try to calculate the effort he must have put in just to chime in and catch you from where he was standing in such a short moment, but something about the passing thought of it has you weak in your knees from gratefulness. 

“Uhm- yeah,” you nod, kicking the pavement with your stained shoes, “I just… miscalculated my skills, that’s all,” you sheepishly hum, hearing the boy snicker at your shaken-up composure.

Watching him take off and retrieve his skateboard from where it wandered off against the curb– much to his golden retriever energy– you sigh and prepare to go sit back on the sidewalk, having enough of new experiences from the shock still lingering in your fingertips. You take a glance down the road, seeing your older brother cruising on the street– when and how he got there, you truly have no idea– when you hear Eric, who seemingly has different ideas for your next actions, call at you from the middle of the pavement.

“Where are you going? Come back!” he asks, having you look at him in surprise, mouth agape and eyes big, staring at him. He now has the board under his shoulder, but puts it back on the road and points at it, shrugging to himself. “I’ll push you down the road, it’s gonna be fun!”

“Eric, I’m literally going to die–”

“No, you’re not. Come on, I promise,” he says, but still, he doesn’t have you convinced. Your feet move against your best conclusions, though, and when you come to a halt right in front of your companion, he offers you a boyish grin. “Sit down on it, that way you’re more balanced. I swear you’re not gonna fall off, okay? I got you.”

“You promise?”

“Yes,” he nods, determined.

“Pinky swear,” you mumble, holding up your pinky finger– all thoughts of seeming childish pushed to the side in the desperate moment– and the male in front of you shakes his head in disbelief, breaking into a laugh.

“Cute,” he huffs, “yeah, okay. Pinky swear,” he nods, interlacing your pinky with his and bumping his thumb against yours, the seal foolishly making you feel more secure as you follow his order and take a seat on the skateboard, your hands gripping the bottom of the wood so hard your knuckles turn white.

“Okay, ready? 3, 2, 1–” he chants as he pushes you, two steady hands coming in contact with your shoulder blades, force making you move on the board, wheels taking you down with gravity. The sound of Eric’s shoes hitting the pavement fills your ears as you go faster, and as you finally get to the part of the hill that takes a downwards slope, he offers you a final push, sending you down the road. 

Wind makes your hair fly back, your surroundings blurring as you yelp and scream, but you can’t say you’re not enjoying the ride. Eric was right– it was fun, you liked it, and something about the gesture had you all warm on the inside. The breeze has you cool down a little in the summer heat, and the board continues to move even as you pass your older brother standing at the bottom of the slope, away from your trajectory. 

Body relaxing when the skateboard finally slows down, you let out a heartfelt laughter. Turning back and seeing Eric jog down the road with a humongous grin on his face, you offer him two thumbs up above your head, watching as he returns the gesture and makes his way back to the two of you on the bottom of the small hill.

The truth is, this was the day you realized Eric Sohn has always found his way to make you feel included and safe. 

You can’t help but feel grateful.

AUGUST OF 1999

“Sunwoo, you have to tie a knot here and then– no, you dumbass, you’re doing it completely wrong,” you mourn as you watch your older brother with a mess of thread in his lap, a focused scowl on his face. There’s a fan standing across from you, blowing cold air into your face, but you still feel yourself grow heated with frustration as Sunwoo just can’t help but not understand the art of making friendship bracelets. It’s not like you’re forcing him to do them– he was the one that asked you to show him how to, muttering something about offering one to his classmate Yeji once he’s back in school– so in theory, he should be putting in effort, no? 

Or maybe he is. Maybe he’s just… incompetent.

“I don’t get it,” Sunwoo hums under his breath, sighing as he leans against the sofa in your living room, the two of you sitting on the floor accompanied by his best friend squinting at you from the opposite side, a comic book in the latter's hand. The myth of men not being able to multi-task is quickly thrown into the bin as you watch Eric pay equal amount of attention to the comic book and the dialogue between you and your brother, and when Sunwoo seems to give up on the art of making friendship bracelets, his best friend can’t help but laugh.

“You’re giving up already? This is how you want to get a girlfriend?” you poke your brother to his side and take the threads off his lap, examining the mess of a safety pin and meters of yarn, all knotted up and not coming along in the shape you taught him to at all.

“It’s not to get a girlfriend, I just-”

“Sure,” you roll your eyes, huffing as you roll his poor attempt at friendship bracelet into a ball and throw it to the corner of the room, making a mental note to pick it up and throw it to the bin later. “You know what, just give her this one and pretend you made it,” you mutter, taking a bracelet you'd already made to demonstrate in between your fingers and throw it into Sunwoo’s lap, the older one catching it and examining it under his nose.

“That looks pretty good,” he hums, making you snort at his appreciative comment. The bracelet is pink and red, the colors just screaming romance and cute energy, which is exactly what a girl needs to be swayed by your brother. You can’t really believe a bracelet will make her swoop into his arms, because truthfully, with your brother’s face and manners, every living thing is keeping a fair distance, but hey, it doesn’t hurt to try, does it? Maybe his classmate is… majorly blind? That might do it?

“Of course it looks good,” you scoff, “that’s because I made it,” you nod, averting your gaze towards your lap, threading your fingers through the yarn you attached to a safety pin on your sweatpants to keep the growing friendship bracelet in place. 

“Then why is the one you’re making right now so ugly?” Eric asks, pointing towards the creation. 

Glancing up at the male slowly, mentally throwing all different kinds of curses at him for daring to talk badly about your craft, you huff. “What do you mean, ugly?”

“The colors… they don’t… they don’t really go together,” Eric sheepishly admits, scratching the back of his neck, quickly averting his gaze from you and gluing it back into his comic book. You think that if he doesn’t stop being a smart-ass and throw jabs at your artistic choices, he’s gonna have to protect his comic book with his own body– and you bet he’d do that, because he borrowed it from the library. The fees for damage are high.

“That’s just… not true at all,” you muse, but groggily take a look at the creation once again, but now, thanks to the remark, seeing it in a completely different way. Shades of orange, brown and purple stare back at you amidst a little disappointedly, and as you thread the yarn and make a couple of knots to end the bracelet, you can’t help but feel a pout growing on your face from the realization. Eric might be right. It does look a little bad…

“Whatever. Your taste is just bad,” you snap as you finish off the craft piece, unclasping the safety pin and sliding the bracelet off the inside, freeing it from the hold. Eric laughs a little at your frustrated state– similarly to what you do when you manage to get Sunwoo upset– and with that, you sigh and put the bracelet on the coffee table.

“I’m going out to the store to get some chocolates,” you say as you stand up, goal clear in your mind, “have fun, losers.”

“You’re still collecting the stickers from these?” Sunwoo asks, a mischievous smile growing on his lips. The teasing is inevitable and coming very soon, and there’s nothing you can do about it– you’re fully aware, which only further makes you want to escape the situation more quickly. Rolling your eyes at your brother’s antics, you move towards the door. 

“Yes, Sunwoo, I am. They’re cute and make me happy, do you have a problem with that?” you point an accusing finger at the male, having him shrug, tongue poking the inside of his cheek.

“You’re such a kid,” he huffs, averting his gaze from you when he lands the comment, the jab coming straight at your fragile heart.

“Okay, then,” you note, “I’ll just have my pretty and cute bracelet back, and you can get your girlfriend something else-”

The male quickly regains his previous composure, swatting his hands in hurry just to make you halt in your sentence. His eyes are big and his mouth is a little agape in terror as he tries to save his ass, plea written all over his face. “I was just joking! Don’t be so petulant… go get your cute stickers, they’re so fun!”

Humming to yourself, your face is tugged up into a victorious smile. “That's what I thought. So, as I was saying, have fun, losers.”

“Wait!” Eric suddenly calls for you, making you turn on your heel in the middle of your escape, eyes peering at the male. “Don’t I get a bracelet too?”

The request catches you off guard. There’s a certain kind of spark in Eric Sohn’s eyes as he asks the question, and you can’t really place it in any category, but it has you nervously shrugging at the preposition. You’re not really sure why Eric would want a bracelet from you, but to avoid confrontation and also the weird leap of your heart surely leading you into cardiac arrest, you only shrug and move back inside of the living room, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you scan the surroundings, searching for something.

“Sure,” you nod, taking the ugly bracelet off the table and offering it to him, “you can have that one.”

You hold a staring contest with the older boy for a couple of seconds, his head undoubtedly swirling with arguments and comments about the apparel of the friendship bracelet, but he’s smart– he must know the survival of his beloved comic book must be at stake. So, he only nods and smiles at you, outstretching his hand to you and nudging his head in its direction.

“Okay,” he hums, “tie it for me?”

A second comes by– a heartbeat, really– in which you chew on your bottom lip and gasp at the request, but still, you nod and come closer, crouching down to be at his level and taking the thread into your fingers. You wrap the bracelet around his wrist, making sure to leave a bit of wiggle room before you tie a knot, bringing the ends together, all while feeling the eyes of Eric glued to your face, watching every micro expression flash through your unsettling composure.

When you’re done, making a move to hide your hands behind your back and standing up, your limbs bump into each other and send an unspoken sense of electricity all through your body. The sensation is so strange you don’t meet anyone’s eye before you leave the room, yelling out a goodbye as you hurriedly open the front door and run out to get fresh air (it’s August, though. The air is humid and only makes your head spin more).

You clear your throat before you take off to the grocery store. It's only when you're halfway there that you realize you'd forgotten to bring your wallet with you. It's okay, though– you take this chance to walk around, regaining your casualty.

You bet Eric will take the bracelet off in a matter of a week.

SEPTEMBER OF 1999

The leaves start turning orange and the weather a bit colder when you become hyper-aware of your shifting composure whenever Eric Sohn is around. The way you feel heat rushing to your cheeks whenever he calls you cutie, a nickname he’s had reserved for you since you two were little kids, the way you feel weak in your knees whenever he casually brings his arm around your shoulders or when he bends down to tie your shoelace in the middle of the sidewalk. You don’t really know what those sudden changes are, yet, you feel a bit embarrassed by them whenever they take place. You don’t think it’s normal to feel this way around your brother’s best friend, and the more you hang out with him, the more you wish you read less books as a child– because now, you’re also hyper-aware of the title those feelings may have. 

Still, it only comes to you on one September afternoon– you wake up from blissful unawareness and jolt with the quickly opening pit in your stomach at the strange revelation.

“Eric! Sunwoo isn’t home, though?” you mumble, confused as you notice the boy standing on your doorway, a plastic bag in his hand and a red Nike jacket enveloping his frame.

“I know, he said he’s hanging out with Juyeon hyung today,” he nods, “I brought you something, though,” he says, holding up the bag and making sure you get a chance to see it, offering you a boyish grin.

“Oh?” you gasp, furrowing your eyebrows at the male. When you do nothing to invite him inside, he does so himself– slightly nudging you in your side as he passes your figure and enters your house. He acts like he owns the place, and by the amount of time he’s spent in your home, you’d think he does– he doesn’t, though. The only thing he owns is just a lot of audacity.

The male takes off his shoes in the entryway and walks his way over to your room– a surprising act, considering he’s spent the least amount of time in this very place– and when he’s sure you’re following his every move, he empties the contents of the bag to the middle of your freshly made bed. Watching as approximately ten items fall out of the plastic, your eyes widen with surprise as you recognise your favorite chocolate– the mini bars with stickers inside, the ones you collect and stick into your journal and look at in the middle of the night, giggling to yourself and kicking your feet at the adorable pictures in your make-shift collect book.

“Woah,” you gasp when the male looks at you, seemingly awaiting your response, and when he gets the wished outcome, pride overtakes his features, shrugging to himself.

“My mum got some for free because she bought a lot of cabbage for kimchi yesterday,” he explains, “I thought of you when I saw them, so I bought you some more.”

“I- you-” you stutter, emotions too big for your own good swelling all inside your fragile, little self, hands running into your hair and tugging at the roots to wake yourself up from the dream. “You didn’t have to!”

“We got them anyway, and I know you like the stickers,” Eric shrugs, scratching the back of his neck, completely ignoring the fact that he said he bought you some more, your heart skipping a beat at the sentiment. Clearing your throat, you tentatively take a step closer to your bed, gathering a bar of chocolate into your hand and opening it, taking a bite.

“You can have the stickers if you give me some chocolate,” Eric says close to your ear, almost as if he was creating a masterplan, to which you eagerly nod and plop onto your bed, moving the bars of sweets into one pile. As you continue to munch on the first one, you unwrap the sticker and look at it, praying to yourself as if you were checking if your lottery ticket was worth any cent– hoping you get a sticker you don’t own yet.

The image of a cute panda would cheer anyone up even in their darkest moments– not you, though, as you mourn and sigh, disappointment clear in your features. 

“What?” Eric asks, eyes big pools of worry.

“I already got that one.”

“Ah,” he nods, seemingly understanding– much to your surprise, “well, we got 9 more tries, let’s get to eating.”

Wrappers are rustling in your bed sheets as you and Eric eat the concerning amount of chocolate, gathering the stickers in a little pile on top of your notebook, promising each other to not look at the stickers as you go and just make a grand reveal at the end. Eric’s full cheeks are a sight you enjoy, telling him he looks like a squirrel– to which he sends a light flick to your forehead, telling you you don’t look much different– and soon enough, the nine bars left disappear from your plain sight (you only had 3 and Eric ate the remaining 5. He’s a growing boy, though, so you understand. He needs to get his undying energy from somewhere.).

“Ready for the reveal?” you ask, locking your gaze with Eric.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

With that, you get to the pile of stickers in the middle of your bedsheets. Looking at the first one, there’s a happy squeal cutting out of your throat, the image of an adorable yellow duck warming you up with euphoria. 

“You don’t have that one yet?”

“I don’t,” you nod, “this is just perfect.”

Eric nods and watches you with a certain kind of warmth in his gaze as you open up your notebook and stick the newest addition to your little sticker farm– or a ZOO, however you wanna call it. The next sticker from the pile is added as well– a brown, big bear– and the next one too, the most adorable colorful parrot slapped to the corner of your page. 

The rest of your stickers are the ones you already own, though– a displeased look takes over your features at the knowledge, but still, you can’t help but beam at the fact that you have 3 new additions to your collection, and they were a gift from Eric Sohn himself. Someone who doesn’t make fun of your childish habit. Someone who feeds your little interest, watches you with excitement in his eyes as you indulge. Someone not like your brother. 

Someone you could never see the way you see your brother.

“What do you do with the duplicates?” Eric asks, pointing to the sad pile on the top of your notebook. His figure is closer to you now, since he wanted to watch you stick the animals into your notebook, his crossed legs almost pressed against yours on the small bed.

“Well, usually, I just throw them out,” you shrug, “but since you’re here…” you muse, the idea plopping into your head like the newest discovery you should probably patent, peeling the back of one of the dog stickers off and swiftly turning towards your companion, mischief sparkling in your eyes.

You put the sticker on his left cheek, making the boy jump. “Hey!”

Giggling, taking another one of the stickers and pressing it to the middle of his forehead, Eric starts to fight you, your bodies wrestling on the bed. You don’t think he puts much effort into getting you off him– that, or he’s insanely weak– and in no time, his face is adorned with all different kinds of animals, his hair messy from tussling in your bedsheets. The image has you laughing before you realize you’re basically straddling him on your bed, his big eyes gaping at you from below, his appearance enough to make something in your brain short-circuit and make you leap off him, clearing your throat.

Heat rushes into your cheeks as you take a seat next to him, playing with your fingers. You pray for anything to come and ease the awkwardness you caused, and sure enough, today must be your lucky day. “Hey, look here!” 

You call for the boy as you swiftly take your polaroid camera off your bedside table– the one that belonged to your dad, the one you fought with Sunwoo about, the one your mum said was yours because Sunwoo is too careless with his things to keep it safe– and snap a picture of the puppy-like boy, laughing at the fact that now, you have the image of him looking dumb and covered in stickers forever. Or at least until he doesn't take it away from you– which he attempts quickly.

“Hey!” he yelps again, huffing as he lunges at you, trying to take the picture out of your grasp as you drop the camera into your soft sheets. Your feet take you to the living room, navigating through furniture, and when you don’t hear footsteps follow you, you think you’re safe– Eric does have a lot of energy, but chasing you around gets tiring for him quickly when he knows you'll never let him win.

Entering your room once again, prepared to find him on your bed like before, you’re taken by surprise as a shutter sound goes off right after you open the door, a polaroid picture taken of your face making you temporarily blind at the flash.

“Eric!” you whine, hating that there’s a picture of you standing shocked at your doorway now forever in the universe– not really caring that the boy just got you back with the exact stunt you pulled on him just a few minutes ago. Before you get a chance to blink out the blind spots in your vision caused by the flash and run after him, though, you feel him gently press you out of the doorway and slip outside, the sound of the front door opening and closing after him resonating along his slowly disappearing, amused laughter.

Serves you right, doesn’t it? 

Sighing, you shake your head and take a seat on your bed, the picture of the boy still in between your fingertips. You only take a look at it when your vision comes back to normal, and as the image of Eric covered in stickers, hair messy and cheeks rosy below the animal print comes into your sight, the revelation arrives the same second a starstruck smile plays with your features.

And with that, you’re absolutely terrified. 

Throwing the polaroid picture onto the bedside table and lunging yourself into the sheets, you scream into your pillow and wish for the feelings to disappear– because in what world does a crush on your brother’s best friend ever come to a happy ending?

OCTOBER OF 1999

Once October hits, you find yourself home alone more often than you’d like. Sure, you don’t mind having some me time to read comic books or watch the TV uninterrupted in the living room, but still– alone turns lonely pretty quickly, and somehow, you start to regret the fact that you’ve been relying on your older brother and his friends for so long instead of making some connections on your own.

Sunwoo started to play soccer at school– something is telling you that he might go far if he keeps it up– and that’s why he’s been stuck at practice every single day, coming home late in the evening all tired, but happy, so you’re not really complaining. Eric works in the little bistro downtown now, since he wanted to make some money and not rely on the allowance Mrs. Sohn gives him every month, and it’s not like you were that close to begin with, but the fact that the boy is now too busy to meet you is making your spirit fall just the tiniest bit. And with your mother always being at work, you find yourself alone in your room, laying in your bed and staring at the ceiling. 

Sometimes, you journal. About anything and everything, really. You don’t really think you’re ever gonna read back the entries once you’re older, since they would just be a reminder of how miserable and boring your teenage years really were, and that’s why you allow yourself to be authentic. On most days, you write about your assignments for school. Sometimes you bad mouth a classmate or two– gossiping with the diary pages, because you don’t really have any human beings to do so in real life– and seldom, you allow yourself to get into topics that evoke the slightest bits of existential crisis in you.

Topics like college. Growing up. Your lack of hobbies and social interaction with the outer world. The newly found crush on Eric Sohn…

Okay, maybe you do write about the boy with brown hair and dark eyes a little too often. You can’t help it, though– when he’s not giving you any new interactions to dwell on, you have to just pick apart the old ones. You think it’s a natural reaction.

And that’s exactly what you’re doing one October afternoon, the lamp in your room on, since the evening comes faster when the weather is colder, as you’re laying in your bed and kicking your feet back and forth, chewing on the end of your pencil. The sound of your doorbell resonates through the house suddenly and startles you, making you jump awake from your delirious delusions.

Mentally going through the list of possible visitors you could have– because it can’t be your mother or your brother, since they never forget to carry their house keys– you’re lost, not really finding any fitting candidates. Furrowing your brows, lost in thought and frankly, a bit confused, you plant your socked feet onto the wooden floor and walk over to the front door just in time for the bell to ring again. Scratching the back of your neck in nerves, thinking of precautions you could take for your own safety– since your front door doesn’t have a peep hole and you don’t want to open the door to a complete stranger– you clear your throat and yell over the door.

“Who is it?” you ask.

“Delivery!” a voice calls through the door, making you huff. 

“I didn’t order any food?” you yell back, confused. “Sir, there’s another house behind ours, sometimes the mailmen get confused and we get their mail. Maybe try there?” 

“The address is right, though?” the voice calls again, and somehow, it sounds kind of familiar… no, it can’t be, you dumb goose. You’re just imagining things because you’ve spent the last 20 minutes writing about the curve of his nose into your diary.

“There must be a mistake-”

“Come on, Y/N, open the door,” the voice on the other side mourns, the mention of your name making you jump, completely startled. The tone the man says it in is sweet like honey, though, so familiar in your ears, that you mentally want to slap yourself– so you weren’t dreaming. It is him.

Dragging your hand through your hair to smooth it down, praying you look at least a little presentable– although in your stained sweatpants and the Pokémon shirt you inherited from Sunwoo when he grew out of it, you doubt that’s even possible– you open the door and try to offer Eric a warm smile. “What are you doing here?”

“Food delivery,” Eric shrugs, pointing with his thumb in the direction behind his back, where his bike undoubtedly stands up against your gate.

“Oh…. but I already told you I didn’t order anything,” you mumble, confused. Studying his face– because a girl can indulge when she has the opportunity, am I right? – you notice his hair has grown a little longer, falling into his eyes. You bet it’s hard for him to see, but you must admit it looks nice, and you almost tell him, before you catch yourself and break away from the sentiment. 

The male snickers. “I know, I was just joking,” he says, “I did bring you food, though.”

“Why?” you ask, confused when he bends over and picks up a plastic bag off the ground, a container of food inside, the warmth of the contents making condensation appear all over the red sack. 

“We made this by mistake and it was just gonna be thrown out if nobody took it,” he shrugs, “and I figured you haven’t eaten yet– or if you did, you just had those cold kimbap rolls from the store– and I wanted to get some warm food into your stomach.”

“Ah,” you gasp, nodding at the explanation. It does explain the source of the food really well, but truthfully, it explains nothing about the fact why Eric thought of bringing you the food instead of taking it home with himself– he’s a foodie if you’ve ever seen one. The idea of him worrying about if you were fed or not is equally as strange and interesting in your head– still, you clasp your hand around the bag and take it, the smell making you involuntarily hungry. “Thank you.”

Eric only nods at you, a smile beaming at his face. “Well,” he sighs, “I’d love to stay longer and hang out, but I’m still on the clock, so…” he mumbles, taking a hesitant step backwards towards his bike, eyes never breaking contact with yours.

“Oh, right,” you nod, “that’s okay. Have a fun day at work!” you muse, watching him as he grins and finally retrieves back his bike, opening up the gate to your property and escaping, waving at you as he gets on.

“I’ll see you soon!” he calls as he rides off, your eyes following him until his figure disappears behind a corner, your ears buzzing with excitement and your lower lip trapped between your teeth with the innocent promise.

Walking back into the house, you grin as you close the front door behind you and carry the food into the kitchen. You quickly get the containers out of the damp bag, putting them onto the wooden table, and gasp when you find a sticky note on the very top one, a messy handwriting scribbled in a rush, but stuck to the food with care.

Eat well and don’t skip meals, Y/N-ie!! – Eric x

Not being able to battle your smile anymore, you decide to open up the containers and stuff your mouth with the food instead– only to find your favorite dish inside, staring back at you in what seems to be a dream that’s too good to wake up from. 

And sure, you are delusional, but are you delusional enough to believe that this wasn’t all a coincidence? You’re not so sure.

Still, you eat the food with feet kicking back and forth as you sit in the silent kitchen, the empty house no longer feeling so lonely. When you’re done, you throw the trash out– everything but the sticky note, which you glue into your diary a few minutes later, hoping to keep the memory forever.

NOVEMBER OF 1999

The world around you is dark as you step outside of cram school, your eyes are tired and your skin is prickled with goosebumps in the chilly air. You despise going to cram school, but your mother told you you have to– since you didn’t have any athletic features that could get you far in life like Sunwoo, you had to be good at studying, or else you won’t get into university. There was a lot of work ahead of you, but since you didn’t really have anything else to do in the day, you didn’t protest and went anyway.

The days are usually very long and you get off very late, resulting in you being tired almost all the time. When you get home, you undress yourself and change into your sleep clothes and doze off until the morning, when you have to wake up and go to school again– it’s an exhausting cycle, but you know you have to endure it for your own sake.

Walking down the steps that lead out the cram school building, you stretch your body and huff, cursing at yourself for the fact that you didn’t bring a jacket– you forgot that evenings get really chilly, and frankly speaking, you didn’t have much time to think when you were rushing to get ready in the morning. You’ll just have to get through it, you think to yourself as you walk in the direction of your house– the last bus to your neighborhood already left an hour ago, when you were in the middle of revising division– your sneakers kicking the stray rocks below your feet as you tug the sleeves of your hoodie lower, desperately trying to feel more heat.

“Do you never watch where you’re going? That’s gonna get you in trouble one day, you know,” you hear a familiar voice say, the joking tone making your heart skip a few beats as you place the owner of the saccharine voice to its face. Looking up, slightly alarmed at being caught in such a distressed state, you gasp.

“I was… watching my step, I guess,” you shrug as you come into a halt in front of him, shivering both under Eric’s gaze and the cold weather at once. “What are you doing here? Deliveries?”

“I just got off,” he says, “so I figured I could stop by. Sunwoo said you’re going to cram school, I thought you might enjoy some company on your way home.”

Gaping at his explanation, you nod, completely startled. The idea of your brother talking about you in front of Eric, the boy you have a very embarrassing, very big crush on scares you, to say the least. See, it doesn’t really matter that the boy grew up with you, pretty much seeing you at your lowest whenever he was around over at your house when you were both just little kids– the image of Sunwoo telling Eric about finding you sobbing at your comic book (the scene got too sad, nobody can really blame you) or about how your favorite jeans ripped right before you had to go to school one morning is terrifying. You don’t really want him to know about these things. He may act like your brother sometimes, but you never really saw him in that light in the first place.

“Well, then,” you clear your throat, “it’s… it’s good to see you,” you say. Eric shows you his boyish grin as your lips utter out the words, and you can’t help but mirror it, your eyes locking with the male. As if you just took a step back, your eyes see him in a light you’ve never seen him before– as if this was your first time meeting your brother’s best friend– and something about the sentiment has your stomach feeling all uneasy, heat rushing to your face. His hair is styled in a way that tells you that he didn’t really style it (or if he did, it looked truly effortless in your eyes, so props to him), pushed back a little and revealing his forehead, a few of the strands carelessly falling into his eyes. His jawline is sharper than how it was when you first met the boy, and with the realization of a foolish teenage girl, you have to admit that Eric Sohn grew up to be a very attractive, attentive man.

“You’re cold?” he says, although the sentence sounds more like a statement rather than a question, before he shakes his head at your antics and heaves out a sigh. “You should’ve taken a jacket with you when you went, you know it gets cold in the evening,” he scolds you. In those times, he reminds you the most of your brother– because although you and Sunwoo act like you hate each other sometimes, you know the older male still cares about you. He just hates showing it, which translates in his scolding tone whenever you do something wrong or against his wishes. 

In those times, Eric reminds you the most of the way your brother treats you, and you somehow hate it. You despise the fact, because that means he must only see you as someone like his younger sister– he never had one, so maybe he just likes to compensate for it by taking care of you all the time. Maybe he feels responsible to do so because of Sunwoo. The thought makes you equally as nauseous– you’d never want him to hang out with you just because he feels like he has to. 

“I didn’t have time in the morning,” you grunt, rolling your eyes at him. You avert your gaze from the male, for it makes you slightly uncomfortable after your previous thoughts, so when the noise of a zipper being pulled down and the weight of fabric on your shoulders brings you back to reality, you snap your head around at him all alarmed. 

“What? Wear it,” he says, head shrugging towards the direction of his jacket on your figure. “You’re gonna catch a cold if you don’t.”

Trying to wrestle out of the red material, you squirm in the hold of the windbreaker– Eric’s hands gripping each side of the jacket, as if predicting your next moves, making sure it stays on you and doesn’t fall down. His strong arms tug you closer to him to make your fight more difficult– and he’s successful with his efforts, because the proximity of him and his smell engulfs you and unarms you, heat rushing to your cheeks as you halt in your movements.

“Stop,” you mourn, “I don’t need it.”

“Yes you do,” he insists, “so stop being a baby about it and wear it.”

Staring into his eyes, as if to mentally tell him to stop what he’s doing– to stop how he’s treating you, how he’s making you all weak in your knees and sleepless at nights because of how much you think of him and hope he’s doing well each day, to stop being so gentle with you and taking care of you, because it brings all sorts of both doubts and delusions into your head– but he doesn’t back down. You’ve known him for quite some time, you should already be aware of just how stubborn he can be.

“Arms in,” he hums, holding on to the jacket and waiting for you to wear it properly. One thing about you– you can always admit your defeat. So, with a sigh, you put your arms through the sleeves of Eric’s red windbreaker, shrinking a little under his firm gaze. He looks at you with a look full of something you can’t decipher, and it’s all making you so, so insanely lost in the many thoughts and feelings swirling around your head, not helping your current state.

“I already have a brother, y’know,” you mumble in a moment of weakness, looking at your feet– your dirty white sneakers almost touching his from how close you are standing right now, “so you should stop treating me like one.”

A moment of silence overtakes you two, and you suddenly feel like you’ve done something wrong. Still, Eric’s hands are holding on to the sides of the opened jacket, keeping you close to him. “Hm?” 

Clearing your throat and shaking your head, you snicker to yourself. “Forget it.”

“No- I mean,” he blurts out, tone of voice a little nervous, “do you see me as your brother figure?” he asks, tone of voice more quiet now, more gentle.

Breathing in the crispy air, taking a moment before you reply, you shake your head in disapproval. “No,” you say, “no, I don’t. I- I don’t think I do,” you say, scared of what your answer will bring out of him. You don’t really know why, but at this moment, you feel insanely fragile– as if any bad move could make you break in his hands, waiting for him to glue you back together. 

Metaphorically, he does just that. “Good,” he nods, leaning down towards you, hands gripping the zipper of his jacket and zipping it together, making sure no cold can get to your bones as his fingers tug it up towards the very top, under your chin. “Because I’ve never seen you as my sister either.”

His answer once again startles you– but when you take a step back from the situation, you think it was in a good way. His hands grip your shoulders for a second as his eyes meet yours and he offers you a warm smile. “Come on, let’s get you home,” he says, tugging you towards the fence where you find his bike, his motions guiding you like a rag doll sucked out of all life.

“Hop in,” he motions towards the back of the bike, where the basket would usually be– Eric moved it towards the front, though, leaving enough room for you to sit at– and as you do, he takes a seat in front of you and looks back at you over his shoulder. “Hold on tight so you don’t fall.”

Like in a trance, your arms sneak around his middle– this was the first time you had this kind of physical touch with him, and just the thought of it makes you want to scream your throat out– before the male takes off on the bike, riding towards your neighborhood. With the cold wind slapping your face, you foolishly rest your cheek on his shoulder blade and close your eyes, enjoying the closeness of his body keeping you warm. 

If anyone asked you about the action, you’d tell them you were just tired.

DECEMBER OF 1999

Socked feet make their way through the room, the sound of footsteps resonating on the laminated floor, as the short male comes up to you with a bowl of potato chips in his right hand and a bottle of soda under his left arm. Eric Sohn sighs at you, shaking his head in disbelief, before he places the items onto the coffee table and takes a seat next to you on the floor, opening up the bottle and pouring the three of you drinks.

“Can’t believe I’m spending New Year’s Eve with you losers, of all people,” Eric snickers, having you roll your eyes at the male and grumpily furrow your eyebrows at his sentence.

“No one’s stopping you if you wanna go, y’know,” you grunt as you take the filled glass off the table, taking a sip of the sweet drink and sighing at him. If he’s gonna take a leap into the new year with you while making you annoyed, he may as well leave now and do whatever his initial plan was– once again, no one’s stopping him if that’s what he wants to do.

“I’m just saying,” he shrugs, “it would’ve been so much more fun if we all went to Juyeon hyung’s. Everyone’s there celebrating, but we’re stuck here in your room.” 

“Well, Eric,” your brother smiles ironically at him, shrugging to himself, “it’s not like it’s my fault you’re not over at Juyeon hyung’s right now. You chose to spend the new years here with me. My mother prohibited me from going there, not yours.”

The argument has the male shrug, his eyes averting your brother’s gaze once his comment gets a bit too honest and realistic. It’s true and he’s right– it’s not like Eric’s mum told him he can’t go celebrate with his friends, because she didn’t. Eric’s mum trusts him and wants him to have fun and do what all the kids his age are doing. Your mum, on the other hand, is making you and Sunwoo stay home for New Year’s Eve to celebrate with your family, because, as she quoted, New Year’s Eve the only time she gets time off work, and she wants to spend it with her kids– forget the fact that you’re currently sitting locked in your room with your friend, protesting the family time just because you can– and when Sunwoo told her she has to stop treating him like a little kid, she told him she has all the right to do so, because he is her kid. And that’s how the party he was supposed to attend with Eric (the party you foolishly thought you’re gonna have to tag along to, not hating the sentiment as much as before now) got canceled from your brother’s plans.

“Well,” Eric chews on the inside of his cheek, “I did it for you two. Be grateful.”

“Whatever,” you hum, “let’s turn on the TV. I bet there’s some variety show on.”

Eric heaves out a sigh as he reaches for the TV remote, clicking the power button and making the boxy device in front of you light up. Your mum got you a TV in your room when you complained about being too bored one November day, and although the box of entertainment didn’t really help like you imagined it to, you’re glad it’s of service at least today. Instead of the expected variety show, though, there’s news on– the face of the old announcer looking at you with a serious look on his face, the professional tone making chills run down your spine, for he reminds you a bit of your mother when she scolds you. You think that’s a common news announcer trait. 

“As the year 2000 approaches, computer programmers realize that computers might not interpret the 00 in the software as 2000, but 1900. The softwares currently running only use a two-digit code for the year, excluding the 19. The data was excluded because the data storage is costly and takes up too much space. Activities that were planned on a daily basis could be damaged or flawed,” the announcer says, making the three of you look at the screen with interest. Maybe it’s true that when you get older, you get more interested in news– you think it’s good to know what’s going on around you, although the topic discussed right now might not even concern you in the slightest.

“Banks, which calculate the interest rates on a daily basis, could face real problems. Interest rates are the amount of money a lender, such as a bank, charges a customer, such as an individual or business, for a loan. Instead of the rate of interest for one day, the computer could calculate a rate of interest for minus almost 100 years!” 

“Oops,” Eric lets out next to you, a reaction so far away from what a real adult would think of the situation. See, you are all just kids, after all.

“Centers of technology, such as power plants, are also threatened by this issue. Power plants depend on routine computer maintenance for safety checks, such as water pressure or radiation levels. Not having the correct date could throw off these calculations and possibly put nearby residents at risk,” the announcer continues, the information coming out of his mouth suddenly making you hyper aware of the reality you’re experiencing right now.

“Do we have a nuclear power plant nearby?” you ask in a hushed whisper, watching as the men next to you almost comically widen their eyes, shrugging.

“I’m not sure,” Sunwoo peeps.

“The worst of all, this software and hardware issue could cause such a big problem in nuclear energy facilities, where nuclear bombs and missiles could be set off, causing the world to go into utter chaos, or worse, an end,” the announcer concludes, the last word making you gasp in terror. 

“An end?” you chirp, sitting up straight in your seat as you look at the two men, now equally as terrified. There’s something in Sunwoo’s gaze that makes chills run down your spine, the reality crushing down on you with heavy measures. 

“I knew I shouldn’t have fought with mum. What if the last words the two of us exchanged before we die are the harsh words I had said yesterday?” your brother mourns, seeing as his best friend chews on his bottom lip, lost in thought.

“What did you say to your mum?”

“That- that I’ll never forgive her for ruining this for me,” he mumbles, his voice breaking at the end, “and… other things,” he adds, the hint of incoming panic making his best friend frantically wave his hands around and try to make your brother relax before he has to deal with the breakdown. If the world is ending, this is not how any of you want to go.

“It’s okay, don’t worry,” Eric says, clearing his throat and pointing to the TV, “look! The show is on, we should watch before the year ends,” he proposes, taking the remote into his hand and turning the volume up to hopefully drown out Sunwoo’s thoughts and have him focus on something else. And it works– noting that your brother has an attention span of a 5 year old– he can hardly remember what he was worrying about just 30 seconds ago.

Still, the thought keeps bouncing around your head like a child in a bouncy castle. The words of the news anchor keep repeating in your brain, making your ears ring as you look at Eric from the corner of your eye, watching his angelic face. Oh how you hate disturbing the peace now that you’ve all calmed down– but still, you can’t deal with the worries alone. Checking the clock hung above the TV, noticing there’s at least 5 minutes left before midnight, you clear your throat, feeling your whole body on fire.

“Do you really think the world is gonna end?” you ask, cracking your knuckles in a nervous manner. Looking at Eric, pupils shaking, you find your brother’s best friend seemingly lost in thought. The music of the variety show program serves you three as a background sound now, none of you paying attention to the TV anymore, instead, focusing on all the things you've done wrong in your life and how somehow, this feels like karma for all of it.

“I dunno,” Sunwoo shrugs, “I mean- they said it’s possible! It was on the news, and they wouldn’t lie on the news…” he nervously mumbles, scratching the back of his head. 

“That’s what’s worrying me,” you sigh, “we shouldn’t have turned on the TV.”

“It was your idea in the first place!”

“And I’ll carry the burden into my grave,” you admit, gulping as you press a forced smile onto your lips.

Momentarily looking back at the TV, you desperately want to keep the thought of the world being over out of your head before you spend your last minutes on this earth going crazy– but now that you started, you can’t keep thinking about it. “Man, the world can’t end yet. There’s so many things I haven’t tried yet! I’m too young to die!”

The men don't reply to that– you presume they’re too busy trying to find other things to occupy themselves with instead of the inevitable– which has you dissatisfied as you throw your body back into the sofa, heaving out a sigh. Seconds go by painfully slow but also painfully fast at the same time, given the circumstances, as you listen to the cheerful song playing in the background and nudge your friend into his upper arm with your pointer finger, feeling his arm encircle your shoulders and pull you closer to him. The contact of his fingers on your upper arm makes you squirm and break out into a smile, feeling a particular lightness in your stomach at the action, a sensation that has you in shock. 

“I’m gonna talk with mum before we die,” Sunwoo suddenly calls as he stands up from his seat on the floor, sighing to himself, “I can’t go with the thought of her being upset with me,” he sentimentally adds before he’s out of the door, rushing towards the living room.

The space falls into momentary silence now that your brother is gone, having you chew on your bottom lip with nerves. You think now is the time to beg for forgiveness with the higher forces– I'm sorry for not studying well. I'm sorry for being rude and ungrateful towards my mum. I'm sorry for being greedy– when the sound of Eric’s voice resonates through the place as he speaks up again, waking you up from the anxious slumber, the clock now striking 2 minutes before midnight. “What would you wanna do before you die?” he asks.

The question is simple. You presume he wants simple answers– things like getting into college, getting a good job and making a lot of money, growing old– but as you lean away from him and get back to your place on his left, your eyes locked with his, you’re left clueless. There are so many things you have yet to achieve, and the idea of not being able to pushes a burden to your chest, but at this very moment, you can’t really name one. 

Shrugging, you chew on the inside of your cheek as your eyes scan his face. His firm eye contact has you a bit flustered, making you shrivel in your seat, and as the sound of the TV morphs from the song into a countdown from 55, you’re overwhelmed with the thought that your friend is insanely pretty– and he always has been, you just hated admitting it to yourself for the past few months, despite still being fully aware– and that now, when the world ends, you’re dying unkissed and alone.

Well, not completely alone, since Eric’s here. And he’s always been here– your whole life, since you can remember, and he’s here now as well, even though he should’ve been at Juyeon’s house. As the clock strikes 30 seconds away from midnight, your eyes involuntarily travel down to his chapped lips, all air knocked out of your lungs, the thoughts in your brain picking up on speed the closer you come to the end.

You’re dying soon. You’re dying in 30- now 29 seconds, and you’ve never kissed anyone before. You’re dying before you get a chance to hold hands with someone and have a partner, and you’re dying before you get a chance to tell Eric how you feel about him. There’s 28 seconds left until the end and you’re just staring at him like a coward, because you don’t really let yourself indulge in the silly warmth of your heart whenever you’re around your friend, but god, you can at least admit it to yourself before you die.

And as the clock gets closer and closer to midnight, now only giving you 20 seconds before it all ends and a missile lands on the top of your house, blowing up the whole town and making you all disappear, Eric’s question repeats itself in your brain. What would you want to do before you die?

The answer is suddenly painfully clear as you take action– leaning towards the boy on your right, face closer to his than it’s ever been before, your eyes counting all his eyelashes and focusing on his surprised, yet unmoving face– and as you hear the countdown reach 15, you close your eyes and press your lips against his. 

The contact makes you weak in your knees as your hands reach to his face to steady him, your own firework show erupting in your stomach, and suddenly you’re completely content with dying tonight– because at least you’re with Eric, at least you did something. You kiss your friend with something close to an unsaid confession, your lips staying on his throughout the rest of the countdown, the taste of soda you’ve both been drinking the whole evening mixing in the contact of your skin. You’re not sure you’re even doing this right– again, you’ve never kissed anyone before– but it doesn’t matter to you much as you let go of your worries, aware of the fact that in a few seconds, nothing will matter anymore when neither of you are going to be around to say anything to each other after the kiss is over.

The countdown rings in your ears– coming down from 5 as you scoot yourself closer to Eric, 4 as you run the pads of your thumbs along his cheekbones, 3 as you still in your movements, 2 as you notice your knees bumping into each other on the ground and finally, 1 as you get ready to die, kissing your first and only love– when the sound of cheers and fireworks from the TV fills your ears instead, the world around you stilling and completely unchanged.

Your kiss started in 1999 and ended in 2000. Your love for him passed a century.

Eyes fluttering open and your mouth letting go of his, the image of the boy with his lips slightly parted, eyes closed and cheeks rosy comes to you in the yellow light of your room, making your heart fall down to your stomach. He looks absolutely angelic, his hair slightly messy and the fabric of his shirt a little disheveled in the front, and even though you’d love to indulge in your foolish desires and kiss him some more, you’re quickly taken aback with the noise of the door to your room opening and making you jump away from Eric, your brother appearing out of thin air in the presence of your room. It serves you like a weird kind of reality check, Eric’s eyes opening and looking at your brother, and even though you two haven’t been caught, the male clears his throat and bites down on his lower lip, looking almost guilty.

Oh no. What have you done?

Suddenly, you feel insanely silly.

JANUARY OF 2000

“You’ve been awfully quiet the whole day,” Sunwoo mumbles from beside you, his whole body engulfed in a pile of snow, “not that I care, but are you okay?”

“I thought you liked it when I don’t talk,” you mutter, playing with the frozen white all around you, seated on the red plastic sled at the top of the hill. You got tired after dragging it up from the bottom, and when you noticed that the rest of Sunwoo’s friends– Eric included– are still on their way up, you figured you could use up the time to relax and sit around for a while. It’s been quite some time since all of Sunwoo’s friends gathered to hang out at the same time, which made you surprised to see that your own brother invited you to tag along with them as they decided to go sledding on the second day of January, using up their break to best of their abilities. Which is also why you didn’t say no to the invitation– you thought sitting at home and moping around wouldn’t help you much.

“I do,” he says, nodding, “that’s why I’m asking what’s up– so I know what to do when I need to shut you up later,” Sunwoo hums, making you roll your eyes at the masked worry.

Shaking your head in disbelief, you scoff. “It’s nothing.”

“Sure,” he shrugs, “so you’re just going through puberty?” he teases, to which you take a handful of snow into your palm and lunge the white at him, satisfaction running through your veins when the snowball lands into his unsuspecting face, the male coughing and swatting his arms around to defend himself.

“Hey!” your brother screams at you once he gets the ice out of his eyes and his mouth, his body jumping into a standing position before he chases you around, the bubble of a laugh escaping your throat for the first time these days– they’re not wrong when they say malicious joy is the best kind of joy.

Running at the top of the hill, not really looking where you’re going– instead looking over your shoulder to see Sunwoo’s actions, preparing yourself to duck if he decides to turn your small quarrel into a snow fight– your legs get tangled with the red sled you left before you started a war with the angered man, a yelp cutting out of your throat as you get prepared to fall over and knock your teeth out.

Your body comes in contact with something half-firm, half-soft, and as your feet slip and the snow-covered ground disappears from below your legs, two arms wrap around your waist and steady you, making sure you don’t get hurt.

Turns out Eric Sohn is there to catch you every time you are about to eat shit. You hate this kind of deja vu.

As you open your eyes (that you had closed on instinct, not wanting to see your own death) once you’re sure you’re safe and sound, the world around you invites itself into your ears in an overwhelming noise. The laughter of Sunwoo’s friends– some hollering at your fall, some at the redness and last remains of snow covering your brother’s face– and the hushed arguments over who’s going down first– with Haknyeon screaming that he’s stealing Sunwoo’s (yours) sled and Juyeon following him. After all those happening in the matter of a few seconds,  you realize you’re left on the top of the hill alone with the male, terror shaking through your insides.

Clearing your throat and taking a step back from him, you tuck your hands into your pockets and avert your gaze from Eric. You two haven’t spoken since you decided to kiss him on New Year’s Eve, and with the awkward tension in the air, you don’t feel like doing so ever again in your whole entire life. 

“Thanks,” still, you hum.

Eric seems a little more light-hearted than you, shrugging as he replies to you. “Haven’t I told you to start watching where you’re going?”

“I’m not good with listening sometimes,” you mutter, huffing. Taking a look around yourself– noticing that there are no sleds left on the top of the hill, therefore, if you wanted to escape the situation, the only way down would be to roll around like a human version of a snowman, you once again admit your defeat, standing around nervously and shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

The silence is uncomfortable. It makes you want to dig a hole in the snow and bury yourself alive, to suffocate under the weight of the icy cold and never see Eric’s face again. You know that you ruined whatever friendship you had with the male– by being stupid and foolish, not really thinking about consequences (because there were supposed to be none and you were supposed to be dead), and the weight of the guilt makes you want to puke and hide away. 

Still, Eric comes out of his way to talk to you. Honestly, you’re kind of surprised– he should be disgusted with you. Realistically, he should be the one avoiding you, not the other way around.“They’re gonna take long to walk back up,” he notes, “wanna get hot chocolate with me?”

“I’m good, thanks,” you shake your head, not once breaking eye contact with the overwhelming white of the hill.

“Come on,” he sighs, “it’s just around the corner. They built a hot chocolate stand because they knew kids would come sledding here. Honestly, it’s an astute business tactic, but I promise the hot chocolate actually tastes nice,” he says, nudging you slightly with his arm, as if to make you look at him and change your mind.

“Thanks, but no,” you definitely say, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“Are you avoiding me?” he asks, tone of voice casual– as if it was the most normal thing in the world, as if nothing ever happened and he was genuinely curious about the reasoning behind your actions.

“I’m not, I just don’t really like hot chocolate,” you sheepishly mutter, trying hard to avoid the topic.

“So you are avoiding me,” he hums, as if it wasn’t obvious before– and not only because you’re a bad liar. Plus, you love hot chocolate. Somehow, you think Eric knows.

“Look, Eric,” you sigh, running your hand through your hair, “can’t you just drop it?”

“No,” he shrugs, shaking his head, “and that’s why we’re talking about the reason why you’re avoiding me over a cup of hot chocolate. Let’s go.”

His persistence is terribly overwhelming sometimes. You wonder how the male does it. “I already told you-”

“You owe me for the stickers and the meal and everything,” he corners you, and you know you can’t argue with that. He’s kind of right, you suppose– you never paid him back for all the chocolates or for the free meal he brought you that one evening. And that’s exactly why you find yourself sighing as you follow him, mentally preparing yourself for the talk.

You hate how he can always get his way. Walking up to the stand, you crack your knuckles in the pocket of your jacket, nervously coming up with possible arguments to tell him. I didn’t kiss you on purpose, it was an accident. I only did it to know how it feels. We are both supposed to be dead, it’s not my fault the world didn’t end like it was supposed to! Each sentence sounds more stupid than the previous one, and so with that, you shake your head, wiping the thoughts away, smiling at the elderly lady in the stand. You’re just gonna have to be honest, you figure. 

“Two hot chocolates, please.”

Rummaging through your pockets to find your wallet– you do owe Eric, so it’s only natural for you to pay– you’re caught off guard as the male next to you swiftly takes out his own and unzips it, preparing to pay for you. 

“I thought I owed you?” you mumble, hand reaching to tug at his forearm to stop him, to which Eric only grins at you and sighs.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you have to pay,” he says.

“I think that’s exactly what that means.”

“Just take it,” he huffs as he brings out a note from his wallet, the force making something else fly out and fall to the ground with it, having the boy swiftly crouch down and pick the item up, attempting to hide it before you get a chance to see. And now, you don’t have 20/20 vision, but you recognise your face when you see it– that, and you also recognize the small white sheet to be a polaroid picture, and as far as you’re aware, you’re the only one who has a camera in his circle.

The boy hands you the drink with red-tinted cheeks. The idea of him carrying a picture of you that he took back in September makes you flush as well, and when your gloved fingers accidentally meet as you take the cup from him, he forces out a laugh. “We can talk about that after you tell me why you’re avoiding me.”

His nonchalance has you relaxing only for a few seconds. The boy walks with you as you try to heat up your cold hands on the boiling surface of the cup, and when you see a bench a few meters away from you two, you instinctively take a seat.

“So?” he becomes you, eyebrows rising as he takes a sip from the melted sweetness.

Sighing, you try to come up with the best way to go around this. Do you apologize? Do you promise to never do it again– and you won’t, even though you want to so badly and his lips look surprisingly soft today? Furrowing your brows at the war in your head, you place the cup on the bench next to you and put your head into your hands, hiding away from him when you realize the only way to do this is to be completely, utterly honest.

“I’m just so embarrassed, Eric.”

The only noise meeting your eardrums in the moment is the faint yelling of the crowd sledding in the background, your companion remaining quiet for a bit. When he sees you won’t explain yourself, he goes ahead and asks the question. “Why?”

“Do I really have to spell it out for you?” you sigh, not believing his so casual composure.

“Maybe,” he laughs, the airy sound taking all breath away from your lungs.

Well, not all of it, since you have enough oxygen to go on a tangent, it seems. “Because I kissed you, goddamnit. And- and I don’t even know why I did it, honestly, I’ve never thought of kissing you before! It’s just- when I heard the world is ending, I realized I hadn’t had my first kiss yet, and that just felt like such a miserable way to die, and then you asked what I wanted to do before I die and I couldn’t think of anything else,” you say, progressively taking out your head from your hands and facing the male, big eyes staring into his soul. 

To your surprise, he doesn’t seem mad. Or disgusted. Or any of the reactions you expected, really. Eric stares at you with a soft, but amidst a little star-struck look in his eyes, and you’re suddenly painfully aware of every slight shift in his composure.

“Did you kiss me because you wanted to kiss me, or because you thought the world was gonna end?” he asks, awaiting your answer.

And if you’re being honest, 2 days after New Year’s Eve, you do admit the thought of the world actually ending sounds a bit stupid. Why did you even believe that theory? Why did they talk about it so seriously on the news? They tricked you into ruining your own life. 

But still, nothing can be done about it now. “Both,” you admit, shrugging, “I… I kissed you because I really didn’t want to die unkissed, but also… I wanted it to be you, y’know? Like… I thought we were really going to die, and so I thought kissing you might be a nice way to go. I really wanted to spend my last moments with you, I guess,” you sheepishly say, averting your gaze from the male.

Eric offers you his silence again after you’re done explaining. While you do admit you feel a little tense to hear what he has to say, you also realize you feel lighter now that it’s out in the universe and out of your system. A major weight was taken off your shoulders with the confession, and suddenly, you’re kind of glad that your friend was so assertive and insistent on talking about this– who knows how long you’d go before managing to face him. You think you could honestly go on… forever.

Taking a sip of the luscious liquid, you feel your body warm up once the anxiousness slips away from your bones. The boy next to you hums, making you face him with expecting eyes. “Then why were you avoiding me?”

Sighing, you shake your head. “I just told you. I’m starting to think you’re the one that’s bad at listening.”

“No,” he laughs, “that’s still you. Because if you were good at listening, you’d remember me telling you that I’ve never once seen you as my younger sister.”

Shrugging, kicking the pile of snow in front of you with the tip of your winter boots, you’re not quite following. “So?”

“So you should’ve realized that I’m not doing all of this,” he theatrically swings his arms around, “for nothing, you know?”

“All of what?”

“Taking care of you. Feeding you, helping you collect those stupid animal stickers, walking you home…” he mumbles, sighing. “Keeping your picture in my wallet,” he adds with a playful tone, making you smile.

“I thought you were just being a good friend,” you shrug.

“I don’t keep a picture of your brother on me at all times,” he says, tugging off his gloves. The sleeve of his jacket rides up a little as you watch him take his cup of hot chocolate off the bench, surprised (and flooded with warmth) to see the ugly friendship bracelet you made still adorning his wrist.

Grinning to yourself, excitement welcoming itself into the tips of your fingertips, you shrug. “So?” you mirror your own question from a little while ago, wanting him to say it to you instead of relying on your own brain– you think there’s still a possibility of you just being too delusional to see the reality for what it really is. You need to make sure you’re not imagining things.

“So,” he starts, sighing to himself as he turns a little in his seat to face you, “you should stop avoiding me, because I liked the kiss. And you. And we should probably do it again, because I didn’t get the chance to kiss you back the first time,” he says, once again taking all oxygen out of your lungs with the casualty of his preposition.

Locking his eyes with you, having you two staring at each other like two rays of sunshine warming up the cold January, he grins. “How does that sound?”

“Good,” you breathe out, “very good.”

The male takes it as an invitation as he scoots himself closer to you on the bench, his body turning a bit to face you. His free hand cups your cheek, leaning closer to lock his lips with you like he asked you to, your eyes fluttering close at the proximity, the fuzzy feeling in your stomach already expecting to kiss him again. The situation feels a little too idyllic to be real, though– you should’ve expected it to get ruined again.

Something cold and wet comes into contact with the side of your face, and when you sharply open your eyes, you see Eric staring at you with shock and terror in his eyes, the snow dripping down the side of his face as well. Whoever threw the snowball has good aim, you think– managing to target two people at once (even though your faces were that close to each other that it probably wasn’t even that hard), and before you get a chance to look around and see who cut off your kiss, there’s a scream coming from the left side of the two of you, the sound of feet quickly darting in the snow landing into your ears.

“Eric Sohn, what the fuck do you think you’re doing with my sister?” the voice hollers, and before you get a chance to react, the said male fastly stands up from the bench and runs to the other direction, laughter resonating all throughout the place as Sunwoo and his friends chase their shortest friend down.

Snow starts falling as you watch your brother tail his childhood friend, and with a foreign sense of warmth, you get reminded of the birthday wish you made while blowing out the candles on your seventh birthday.

You wished for someone just like Eric. You didn’t know the universe would be so kind to give you him instead.

[richincolor]

We have four books to close out June! Which ones are on your TBR list?

The Shadow Sister by Lily Meade Sourcebooks Fire

Sutton going missing is the worst thing to happen to Casey, to their family. She’s trying to help find her sister, but Casey is furious. And she can’t tell anyone about their argument before Sutton disappeared. Everyone paints a picture of Sutton’s perfection: the popular cheerleader with an entourage of friends, a doting boyfriend, and a limitless future. But Sutton manipulated everyone around her, even stole an heirloom bracelet from Casey. People don’t look for missing Black girls--or half-Black girls--without believing there is an angel to be saved.

When Sutton reappears, Casey knows she should be relieved. Except Sutton isn’t the same. She remembers nothing about while she was gone—or anything from her old life, including how she made Casey miserable. There’s something unsettling about the way she wants to spend time with Casey, the way she hums and watches her goldfish swim for hours.

What happened to Sutton? The more Casey starts uncovering her sister’s secrets, the more questions she has. Did she really know her sister? Why is no one talking about the other girls who have gone missing in their area? And what will it take to uncover the truth? -- Cover image and summary via Goodreads

Gloria Buenrostro Is Not My Girlfriend by Brandon Hoàng FSG

As one of only two Asian American kids in his entire high school, Gary is used to being ignored and excluded by his classmates. So when the most popular guy in school offers him the opportunity to break into the inner circle, Gary jumps at the chance. All he needs to do is acquire the prized possession of the most beautiful and untouchable girl they know—Gloria Buenrostro.

But as Gary gets to know Gloria, he begins to truly understand her, and she accepts him for who he is—before long, they're best friends. Being part of the "in crowd" has always been Gary's dream, but as he comes closer to achieving infamy, he risks losing the first person who sees him for all he is, and realizes that amount of popularity is worth losing a true friend. -- Cover image and summary via Goodreads

Sing Me to Sleep (Sing Me to Sleep #1) by Gabi Burton Bloomsbury

Saoirse Sorkova survives on lies. As a soldier-in-training at the most prestigious barracks in the kingdom, she lies about being a siren to avoid execution. At night, working as an assassin for a dangerous group of mercenaries, Saoirse lies about her true identity. And to her family, Saoirse tells the biggest lie of all: that she can control her siren powers and doesn't struggle constantly against an impulse to kill.

As the top trainee in her class, Saoirse would be headed for a bright future if it weren't for the need to keep her secrets out of the spotlight. But when a mysterious blackmailer threatens her sister, Saoirse takes a dangerous job that will help her investigate: she becomes personal bodyguard to the crown prince.

Saoirse should hate Prince Hayes. After all, his father is the one who enforces the kingdom's brutal creature segregation laws. But when Hayes turns out to be kind, thoughtful, and charming, Saoirse finds herself increasingly drawn to him-especially when they're forced to work together to stop a deadly killer who's plaguing the city. There's only one problem: Saoirse is that deadly killer.

Featuring an all Black and Brown cast, a forbidden romance, and a compulsively dark plot full of twists, this thrilling YA fantasy is perfect for fans of A Song Below Water and To Kill a Kingdom.

Invisible Son by Kim Johnson Random House Books for Young Readers

Life can change in an instant. When you’re wrongfully accused of a crime. When a virus shuts everything down. When the girl you love moves on.

Andre Jackson is determined to reclaim his identity. But returning from juvie doesn’t feel like coming home. His Portland, Oregon, neighborhood is rapidly gentrifying, and COVID-19 shuts down school before he can return. And Andre’s suspicions about his arrest for a crime he didn’t commit even taint his friendships. It’s as if his whole life has been erased.

The one thing Andre is counting on is his relationship with the Whitaker kids—especially his longtime crush, Sierra. But Sierra’s brother Eric is missing, and the facts don’t add up as their adoptive parents fight to keep up the act that their racially diverse family is picture-perfect. If Andre can find Eric, he just might uncover the truth about his own arrest. But in a world where power is held by a few and Andre is nearly invisible, searching for the truth is a dangerous game. -- Cover image and summary via Goodreads

[mewintheflesh-2]

Team sky people I haven’t talked about yet:

June/Junebug: Higher Grunt. Team Sky’s Official Tumblr Account manager. Gets into a lot of arguments with people over which Pokémon should be allowed into the team. Has to be convinced to stop arguing endlessly with people. Dresses in very scene clothes/makeup

Victoria: Grunt. June’s queerplatonic partner. Co manager of Team Sky’s Official Tumblr Account. Very gothic, loves the vampire aesthetic. Is the one who has to convince June to stop arguing with people online by letting her just talk about how stupid they are to her instead, who she herself shares the same feelings.

Millie: Not exactly an official member, as a result he doesn’t have a rank, but he might as well be an official member. Professional Artist. Hired/frequently commissioned by Mikey to make paintings for him. A lot of his paintings seem to depict future/sinister events of “other realities” said by Millie himself. Mikey will just walk up to him like “Hey Millie! What’re you painting this time?” And it’s just him being overcome by sinister shadows and being curled up into a ball and Millie’s just like “Have you ever wondered what would happen if Team Sky turned truly evil?” And Mikey’s looking at it bewildered, first of all because of the concept, but also because the art is just absolutely stunningly beautiful. And Mikey’s just like “No, I haven’t, but holy shit your art is beautiful.” And Millie’s just like “Thanks :)”. Millie also kind of has a giant crush on him. No biggie!! Mikey is a very striking muse to him.

Trixie: Grunt. MANIC PIXIE DREAMGIRL kind of. She’s like 14 (no she’s like 16), straight light pink hair, dresses very scene, has little wrist warmers that are majority black with neon green stripes. Has just straight up pilot goggles without the little flaps on them. Has a Noivern and Swoobat :)

Tricky (v similar names I know, it wasn’t me though): Higher Grunt. Very much punk. Most of her head is shaved aside from the front part of the right side of her head, where her light purple hair falls over her face, curled in the fashion of a cartoonish tornado. Wears leather, studded jackets and a lot of fish nets. A lot of piercings, even in the most painful places, stretched out earlobes, and lots of rings, along with thick platform boots. Her fav drink is passion fruit tea and she is very bisexual. I think she has a big sister kind of relationship with Tricky.

+@##83: h43$@+53$j

and I’ve already talked about Theo, but I want to talk more in-depth about him!:

Mechanic. Despite how young he looks in the only art I’ve posted of him on here, he is actually 16-19! He is trans, uses he/him, and is a faller from a similar reality as Nightsky is! Back at his home, he very much viewed Nightsky as somewhat of a father figure to him, as they were decently close, virtue of Theo not having a family of his own. When Theo fell into the world he lives in now, he was very much bewildered at the state of the world. Why was it back to its “normal” state?

That’s when he found Team Sky again. He was very very weirded out, but after awhile of trying to go back home, he eventually realized the best he could do was settle for a new life here. He was very intrigued by Mikey, who he himself was very intrigued about Theo. Mikey and Theo ended up building a very much passive father/son relationship, which Theo was content with as he continued his life in this alternate reality from his own. Theo ended up being brought into Team Sky as a trusted and skilled mechanic, as despite his age, he is very handy with all sorts of tools.

In an alternate timeline, Nightsky does end up coming to his reality via the Time Machine in Area Zero. Theo finds Nightsky alone and is very much shocked to see him “again” (it’s a different guy entirely, but he’s similar enough.) Nightsky recognizes him as the Theo from his own reality, neither of them are aware they’re not talking to who they think they’re talking to. Either way, Theo is just relieved to see someone else from his home, as is Nightsky, though he doesn’t admit it. It’s settles the anxieties in his chest somewhat.

Team Nighsky has a salute that every member is to memorize and enact when appropriate, this is how Nightsky identifies that Theo isn’t lying about him previously being a member of Team Nightsky. I like to think since Theo gets to know both of the Sky Mikeys very well at some point, he’d be the one to start negotiating between them until they can talk face to face. Theo does get tired of them refusing to negotiate at first and just using him as a messenger-boy to hurl insults at each other back and forth, so he ends up refusing to carry over the messages unless it’s to actually speak about their problems with each other.

[jodilin65]

FRIDAY, JULY 31, 2015 As I have learned in life, never think an estranged family member or old friend isn’t still somehow connected to somebody you’re currently in touch with. I guess the Gs and the Ss are good buddies. I forgot that the late Dorothy (Boo) was my maternal grandfather’s niece.

Anyway, I also found June, Lori and Lisa’s mother, on Facebook. Her picture is at least 30 years old, LOL. Guess she lives in Florida now. She too, got a wonderful slice of my mind, though they don’t seem to use Facebook very often, and knowing how glitchy Facebook is, they will probably never get my messages. As I’ve mentioned before, my aunts, uncles and cousins (with the exception of a few distant cousins) never gave a damn about me. I would criticize some people for not being able to move on and get over shit that happened decades ago, but thinking back to the way they abandoned me in a time of need 30 years ago enables me to understand that it’s not always that easy. It is very hard for me to forgive someone who A, doesn’t believe they did wrong, or B, knows damn well they did wrong but refuses to admit it.

It isn’t just the abandoning me that pissed me off; it was how they made accusations about me to everybody and anybody that would listen without confronting me directly. Obviously, they were too scared to do so because they knew where I lived, and if they didn’t they could have found out. Then they could have asked me directly whether or not I was prank-calling them.

I have no respect for people like this, family or not, and they can go to hell right along with the brother and parents. I was a 19-year-old terrified kid who had basically been abandoned by her parents. My sister was in another state and I reached out to them just to be ignored because thanks to my wonderful mother, she convinced them along with countless others that I was both crazy and dangerous.

Oh, I’m dangerous, alright, if given a damn good reason to be, same as anyone else in the world. When I was young I took an awful lot of shit from a lot of people. I was too nice and too forgiving. While it’s easy to wish I was like I am today back then, I also know that had that been the case, I would probably have been in jail for assault God knows how many times. The guy that I suspect my brother put up to knocking on my bedroom window in the middle of the night to spite me for kicking out my roommate that had become his mistress which I freaked out all terrified from back then, would today be confronted by a very pissed off me who would beat the crap out of him and leave him for dead.

But again, I was young, alone, naïve and terrified. And when I reached out to my “family,” I was rejected. That’s not something you just “get over” or forgive. I otherwise liked June, until she did such a low and appalling thing, but her ex-husband was way worse, as was my other uncle.

I saw my other uncle a little later in my life at which time he was a little more careful of how he treated me and what he said to me. He was growing older and weaker while I was getting stronger and I was now an adult who had changed. In other words, the slightest threat and I would’ve popped him in the face so hard nobody would’ve recognized him. He just wouldn’t admit this to anybody, of course, being the big bad tough, arrogant macho cock he thought he was.

THURSDAY, JULY 30, 2015 After a few days on a diet rich in meats and veggies, I have increased energy, less hunger, and one lost pound. Looks like I’m going to be late for my period again which is due tomorrow. I just don’t feel PMSey enough right now. Oh, the joys of aging. :)

It turns out I didn’t have to work as hard as I’ve been working on my book. I didn’t realize that for Camp NaNoWriMo you could adjust your word goal to as low as 10,000 words as long as you do it before validation begins on the 19th. Oh well. I only have a few thousand more words to go anyway. I should finish it today or tomorrow.

Went out riding, and the stench of skunks was too close for comfort. Tom’s going to trim the base of the Cypress trees so they can’t nest in there.

Tammy left a message letting me know the house closes on Monday and that Lisa might be moving down to Florida as well, so now she’ll have all the kids there, and so then all she needs is me.

But I thought she wasn’t on speaking terms with Lisa?

I still have mixed emotions about moving to Florida, bipolar Lisa in the picture or not. I would love to be in a place that was summary year-round, but I don’t know how it would affect my allergies, it is awfully humid, thunderstorms would interfere with my sleep a lot, and I don’t know that having so much family so close would be such a wise thing. Sure I miss having family around, but I also know that mixing family can be like mixing friends or coworkers. In other words, it can really backfire on you.

Later…

I have attempted to locate my cousins Lori and Lisa online a few times to give them a well-deserved piece of mind, particularly about the way they abandoned me when I needed somebody – anybody – when I was being terrorized by that window knocker. I don’t know why, but for some reason, today’s the day I searched for them and their names came right up. Perhaps it’s because I recently contacted Mary? Maybe they were even looking for me and that’s why they came up easily in the search results. Whatever the reason is, I sent them both messages.

I also saw that they’re friends with my niece Jennifer. Why oh why doesn’t that surprise me? It seems that every family member and every past friend of mine is still somehow connected to someone I’m currently in touch with. Bet Jenny C was tight with Larry until his death. She’s probably friends with Jen now, too. I really thought there was no connection between Lori and Lisa. But at least two of my nieces are friends with Jennifer and then of course Jennifer is friends with Lori and Lisa. Larry was tight with Ronnie. Hey, a bully loves another bully, right? So it makes sense that they would have met and gotten to know each other.

I wonder if Tammy knew they were connected? I told her about it and let her know that I sent the messages, because somehow, someway, if they get those messages, Tammy will hear about it. I will probably be blocked by them as well. I’m a little surprised Mary didn’t block me, but I’m not surprised she didn’t reply to my message. Or maybe she did and I just didn’t get it. As it is, I have my doubts that these two will get my messages. If they do, I just might be a little more convinced that my messages to my old doctor really did go through after all. I mean I can see her not getting the messages, but not getting the friend request and not noticing that I shared one of her pics as well???

Anyway, I gave my wonderful cousins (yes, the word wonderful was said with sarcasm) Lori and Lisa a piece of my mind.

Was just reading a few comments on an article about intense heat in Iran, and even those animalistic monsters get defended these days when anyone dares step out of political correctness to bash them. What’s next? Defending negative comments against child molesters? Is there nothing any group can do without people being called racist when they speak up about their shit?

The lovely Jenny Seagrove thanked me for my message wishing her a happy belated birthday. Her birthday was earlier in the month but I got caught up with other stuff, LOL.

This is my first day in a month with no word count deadlines to meet and I am enjoying it. It may be a few days before I start editing my book, but Rainstorm is complete!

I’m still feeling increased energy and decreased hunger on my diet, but damn am I gassy! I guess I’m way overloaded on protein. I’m trying to think of what to do about it without going off track. Maybe I need to add a slice of whole wheat bread to my diet. Just had a few bites of oatmeal to see if that helps. Also read that women are more prone to gas. Figures.

Amazingly, we got two quiet days in a row here, but I know it’s not going to be quiet all day today because Fridays are one of the prime landscaping days.

Meanwhile, Andy is very worried about his mother because she fell and hurt her back and shoulder. She’s in the hospital now but from what I have heard she is a rather robust woman who doesn’t give up easily, so my guess is she’ll be in pain for a while but she will pull through.

I had a dream last night involving my brother. For some reason, I was so pissed at him that I was looking for him to kick his ass. Next thing I know, somebody tells me they found him and I ran into the room and proceeded to go after him. But then I stopped dead in my tracks as I realize he was lying down on the couch looking absolutely terrible. His breathing was labored and his eyes were bloodshot. What’s wrong with him? I asked somebody, and they told me it was a drug overdose. I suggested calling the police, but then I just said to let the bastards sleep it off, kicked him in the gut, and walked off.

WEDNESDAY, JULY 29, 2015 One of Tom’s coworkers is an Indian woman who recently returned from maternity leave. Well, he’s been getting a crash course in Indian culture and OMG! Now we weren’t 100% Indian culture illiterate after staying with Tina, Raj and his parents up in Oregon for a while. But even so, they have some traditions, that while they may seem perfectly reasonable to them as it’s all they’ve ever known, seem pretty far out to Tom and I. I like how a woman who doesn’t drive, or who is unable to work or who simply prefers to stay at home isn’t judged and condemned in their culture, but some things we learned really made us go, WTF? It’s fascinating, it’s interesting, but it’s weird, and I mean really damn weird.

Not only are the marriages arranged, but a woman cannot leave home the first month after the baby is born. Not even to go to the grocery store. LOL, here in the US people would be quicker than quick to scream, “Lazy! Wrong! All wrong! Get out and get some fresh air! Get back to work!”

They also can’t name their own kids. They have to go to their priest or pastor or whatever the hell they call them, and they are then given initials from which to choose their name.

So at one point, she told Tom that her in-laws would be arriving soon. He asked her how long they would be staying and she said, “Forever.”

Haha, it’s a tradition for the parents to move in with their oldest son once he marries. What if the son never marries? I wonder.

Even stranger is the bedroom sharing where the parents have their kids sleep with them, including teenage kids. How do they expect to ever get any privacy that way?

Anyway, I understand that most countries have their own cultures, but if you’re going to keep invading our country with your presence as if we didn’t already have enough people here, you should adapt to American culture. Within reason, anyway.

Last night I dreamed of hanging out with my sister and nieces and riding around the park. Only the park in the dreams had sidewalks. As I stopped to wait for a car to straighten out that was aiming for its garage, the male driver said something to me that I couldn’t make out.

I am really pissed off for Tom with the way they keep promising him a new title and a raise at work yet never come through. I hate people that say they’re going to do things they don’t do, or that say they want something they don’t want. All his life God has made sure that no matter how hard he works, he is never paid fairly. Always, always gotta hold Tom S back and make sure he gets the short end of the stick. While most get the typical 50K for 2015, he’s still stuck with his 2001 income.

At this point, as soon as they said their line of bullshit again, I’d be quick to say, “Say that one more time and I’m outa here!”

Seriously, I feel totally insulted for him and pissed off at God… if one exists. I don’t care that we have enough money to survive. I still don’t like seeing him not get what he should get. They should have annual wage laws. If 50K really is the norm, then no one should get less than that unless they work part-time.

Meanwhile, no matter where he works, God’s going to always make sure he doesn’t get what he deserves.

Later…

Andy's bragging on Facebook that he's now lost 25 pounds… and I've gained weight today on less than 1400 cals and plenty of activity. I'm not complaining but I don't get it. I just don't get it. If the medication has made me close enough to normal, then why doesn't my body respond to diet and exercise? shrugs I guess that just like always… if the weight is determined to hang on no matter what I do, then it must be meant to be there.

TUESDAY, JULY 28, 2015 I don’t understand how every time someone dies those they leave behind say “They’re in much better hands.” Gee, why don’t we all just kill ourselves then? You know, so we can be in “better hands.”

I realize we all have to do whatever is necessary to survive life and that we all have different coping mechanisms for when the going gets tough, but is deluding ourselves really smart? Should we really tell ourselves something is good or for the better when we’d really change things in a heartbeat if we could? shrugs I guess denial is the spice of life.

As for me… I’m never bothering to return to a casino again in my life. LOL, We didn’t win shit and casinos have really changed since I first started going to them in the mid-90s. They used to be simple. You put in the money and you spun the damn thing. Now you have to stop and read how they work, and some of it is complicated if you’re not good with numbers. They did have a few old-fashioned machines there, but most are now video games with lots of dazzling colors and loud sounds.

The smoke in there sucked too, even though it was pretty dead. Are there really that many people still smoking? I got a small cappuccino at one point. It helped with my ever-tightening lungs.

One thing I do like better about modern casinos is that you no longer have to carry around a bucket of change. You simply get a ticket value when you cash out.

After blowing $80 there (at least Tom had fun), we blew $30 more at Mel’s Diner where I got a fabulous 8 oz. prime rib dinner. I don’t think I’ve had prime rib since I lived in Arizona, so that was two states ago. It came with a salad, steamed veggies, fries and cornbread. Only the fries were boring.

We both have long overdue eye exams scheduled for Saturday. Please, ocular hypertension, be down! Our guess is it may be slightly high, but fine. Probably won’t even need drops.

The vigilante girl told me she would begin data hunting for info on Johnson and that she’s been busy with family. That may be true, but my guess is she’s been coming up empty-handed. How much she does accumulate in the end will be a good test as to just how “connected” she may or may not be.

MONDAY, JULY 27, 2015 I’ve slowly begun transitioning into the new low-carb diet and already I felt perkier upon waking up.

Went out riding yesterday and I made sure to go at a more relaxed pace so that darling hubby could keep up with his faster, fitter wife. ;)

Going out to the casino later on and maybe out to eat as well.

I might take the day off from writing, but we’ll see. I’ve only got 8000 more words to go.

Going to watch my show now and that deliciously sexy Mariska. ;)

I had the strangest dream last night where I took a mannequin that was smaller, lighter and more flexible than usual and wet it in an old-footed bathtub. Doing this made its hard vinyl turn to soft silicone. It was actually like this foamy rubber. I picked the bald mannequin up out of the water by the ear and leaned it back against the tub. I then spread her legs and began to run my hands down her tits, stomach and then between the legs.

As I said, it was a very strange dream.

SUNDAY, JULY 26, 2015 The giant rat sticker arrived and looks great on the wall by the rats’ cage.

We didn’t go bike riding yesterday because we were busy doing other things and Tom’s leg muscles were really sore from the last ride in which he could barely keep up with me. LOL, that man is never going to have the time to get in as good of shape as his wife is in with all he works.

The more I get into shape, the faster I ride. I also like the speed, so that’s part of it for me, too. It almost surprises me that I’m afraid to ride on motorcycles, but anything over 20 MPH is getting too fast for me.

What was weird is that the last two times I rode I felt slightly anxious afterward. Tom wondered if it was because my carbs were low, so I had a protein shake and I did feel calmer afterward. Well, come Monday my body better get used to the lower carb levels because I’m beginning the Atkins diet. I just bought about $60 worth of Atkins products, raw meats, fruits and veggies.

I dreamed last night that I was listening to music in the bathroom, then realized I ought to go out into the other room so that Tom wouldn’t worry and think I was sick or something. When I did he told me he sold someone a CD for $60.

In another dream, I was playing on the floor with three rats, and then Tom and I were at the beach. He said he missed the beach and that we would be more likely to end up living closer to the beach itself if we move to Florida rather than Hawaii.

While we were at the beach, presumably in Florida, I noticed that a lot of people were carrying these tall skinny metal poles and I asked Tom what they were for. He said it was so that they could tell which direction the wind was blowing. LOL

FRIDAY, JULY 24, 2015 We don’t know the details yet, but Tom is going to receive a new job title and a raise. Very proud of him! Although we still agree he’s not being paid fairly, it is nice to know that every little bit will help us retire comfortably in the end. We may never be able to retire in Hawaii, but we’re certainly going to be smarter than my mother was. My mother was obsessed with material things like crazy and she spent and spent and spent, like it was an addiction or something, maxing out one credit card after another. Then the mounting health issues came and we could only bleed out so much money from them in the end, most of which was divvied up between their grandkids.

I’m a little pissed at myself for canceling the shrink, as unnecessary as it is because I think that if I pushed my schedule just a little harder I could have made it. I do want to get it out of the way. Tom is still going to take that day off so we can finally go to the casino.

Love how our new recycle bin has handles on its cover. It stinks, though, of plastic, since it’s new.

Not impressed with the anime doll and not getting any more of them either. She’s cute but she's just too small for the price, and she was half the usual cost to begin with. Then again, she's not even worth five dollars unless you like dolls that small.

I tried to talk myself into a bike ride but I just wouldn't listen. Instead, I will take my Dutch lesson, work on my book, do some online work, and finish the laundry and grocery list. This weekend I will be eating the last of the Atkins no-nos before beginning the Atkins 40 diet plan. I’m doing it to see how it makes me feel and not to lose weight. As I’ve said a million times before, and as only one in my shoes could ever understand, it takes shit for calories to lose weight with Hashimoto’s and it’s just not worth the misery.

The Atkins 40 plan, unlike the Atkins 20 plan, allows for 40 net carbs a day. It’s also for those with less than 40 pounds to lose and that don’t have a waist over 35 inches, or a waist over 40 inches if you’re a man. Not sure my PCP would approve this since they’ve got me listed as a cardiac risk, but I’m not worried about it, and it’s not like I will be doing it forever.

I had negative dreams last night. First I was fighting with a woman over a ring I supposedly lent her that she would not return, and trying to figure a way to use her computer without her knowledge. I seemed to believe she had evidence of something bad that I wanted to send someone copies of.

Then I was afraid that Tom was going to be going to this very strange jail. It was both an indoor and outdoor jail. I was looking into the grounds from outside the fence to see if any of the prisoners recently brought in might be Tom. Someone pushed open a flap window and called out something to someone outside, and then I saw a woman being frisked that had just arrived, but no sign of Tom.

A split second later I was swimming in some type of river or stream where I spotted a snake in the water and promptly climbed out. I then desperately searched my mind for ways to ensure that Tom didn’t go to jail, even if that meant I had to bribe, threaten or even kill those involved in whatever it was I thought he might get thrown in jail for.

THURSDAY, JULY 23, 2015 Can’t remember any of last night's dreams. It seems that when I sleep better, I am less apt to remember them. Still waking up not feeling very rested and hoping that the new diet helps improve that. I’m going to be doing an Atkins-based diet. At first I was worried about all the cholesterol, but I figured that if they were in the habit of killing people regularly then they wouldn’t have been around for as long as they have been.

It hit me like a light switch just how this diet actually works. For the longest time, I just didn’t get it. I just didn’t understand what the hell net carbs were and how to calculate them. Then it just suddenly hit me when I was on their site looking at a list of acceptable foods. It’s pretty easy to figure out once you know what to do. So even though I don’t expect weight loss since I have four things against me… my age, gender, height and Hashimoto’s… it would still be a little healthier than my current menu. The key is to lower both my sugar and carb intake.

Tonight I should come close to 40,000 words in my book. I am looking forward to Camp NaNoWriMo ending and getting on with the editing phase as much as I hate that part of book writing.

Been watching Law & Order SVU on Netflix. Mariska Hargitay is kind of hot. :)

WEDNESDAY, JULY 22, 2015 Perhaps I shouldn’t take it so personally, but not only am I sick to death of racial issues being the highlight of just about any site I visit these days, it really annoys the shit out of me when people don’t see the real reason certain things are happening, and continue to believe that white people are oh so privileged. If I attacked a black person I would be charged with a hate crime. If they attacked me they would not be charged with a crime. If I wanted to create a white beauty pageant I would be called racist. They have black beauty patches and they’re not called racists. If I wanted a holiday in celebration of whites I would be called racist. They have their holidays and they’re not called racists. If I were seeking a job position along with a black person, the black person would probably get it to “give them a chance after having been suppressed in the past.”

Where is the so-called white privilege in that???

I didn’t watch the Sandra Bland video or read the news article, but I can say for sure that racial profiling isn’t nearly the issue the media wants you to believe it is. The problem is the police. There are so many corrupt cops out there that will bully and abuse ANYONE. However, because the media chooses to focus only on black victims, that gives people the impression that they are being discriminated against when in fact that is rarely the case. There are PLENTY of white victims out there as well; we just don’t hear about them as much because nobody gives a shit. The problem isn’t the color of the people; it’s the people wearing the badges. Like it or not, it’s human nature for those in authority to get carried away and abuse it. Makes them feel tough and all that. But to say they’re only picking on blacks and that whites are so privileged is ridiculous. They abuse EVERYBODY.

As for blacks… The vast majority of them are thugs and I’m almost to the point where I feel they deserve just about anything they get. I’m sick of the havoc they wreak on society as well as the individuals who have suffered on account of their hatred, anger and violence. I just don’t understand why people won’t open their eyes to the facts. The cops shouldn’t kill the criminals in their custody, but to say police brutality only happens to blacks and that racial profiling is still an issue is nothing but pure bull fucking shit. If there is, God forbid, any racial profiling going on then it’s because of their behavior. They’re such vicious little monsters that people do have to be somewhat wary of them. But 95% of their discrimination claims are a crock. Sadly, people do what works to get ahead in life, even if it means hurting others. They know the race card game works and earns them sympathy along with other things, and so they play it and they play it well.

I was so proud of myself for doing a partial perimeter ride last night on my own now that it’s been a while since my heart has taken me on any joyrides and my medication has been regulated. Strangely enough, though, I felt slightly anxious after I got back throughout most of the night. I slept terribly, too. I woke up constantly and felt warm even though I set the temperature at 75°. I think the scare I had with the gel polish simply had me rattled. I’ve been fine today.

I had a dream involving my fifth-grade teacher, Mrs. Bowe, but I don’t remember what it was about. I had a little crush on her even though she was a bitch. Everybody hated her. Today she would be in her late 70s.

In another dream I was in our cottage at the beach, which was our summer home for many years, only it seemed much bigger. I was staying with a bunch of people there, but I don’t know who they were. The place had a washer and dryer, too. I was in a hurry to wash my sheets and blanket so I could make up my bed.

The bedroom in the far back, which later became part of the master bedroom, had bunk beds in it which my sister and I slept on as kids. The bunk beds were still there in the dream only the room was much bigger and there was much more floor. I commented and how much smaller the room was when I was a kid.

Then I picked up an iPod that was sitting on a dresser (mine I assume) and started to walk out of the room. Before I got the chance a girl in her 20s jumped out at me and said she wanted to play. Even though I would have preferred to listen to music, I shrugged and said okay. Then a human-shaped cutout appeared in the door to that room and she jumped into it face first and told me to hurry up as I pulled on the door to open it. I told her I was going as fast as I could but that she was kind of heavy.

Then I was talking to my parents who always come back to life in my dreams. We were all going on a trip somewhere and I asked them how many days we would be gone because I was worried about my schedule and the time zones, and they said they didn’t know.

TUESDAY, JULY 21, 2015 Thanks, God, for another wonderful scare in life. I swear something gets off on scaring the shit out of me at times, LOL. At least it seems that way when you’re having the reaction I had earlier to my gel nail polish. Gels always smell terrible, but for some reason, this particular one really got to me.

I cut my nails at the beginning of the month for Camp NaNoWriMo and finally decided they were long enough for one of my new temperature color-changing gels. So I started polishing away and by the time I get two nails done, my head starts to swim and my stomach burns as if I’d ingested the shit, and then my heart starts racing up a storm. I called Tom but he was on his way home anyway. As I was ending my message to him, I started feeling better. So the whole thing, as scary as it was, didn’t last long.

I will never use gel nail polish again. Ever. Gels are a waste anyway, when you think about it because so many regular polishes now have the same staying power. Even my glow-in-the-dark polish takes a week or so before it starts chipping.

I got tired of how my new office chair was slightly tilted and so Tom took it and gave me my old one back. My old one is a very expensive chair he got for just $6 at Goodwill several years ago. Anyone with half a brain can see/tell what a high-end chair it is. I only gave it to Tom because his crappy chair broke. So now he’s got another crappy chair, LOL, until it breaks, as he says because cheap chairs just weren’t made to support those over 200 pounds very well. I just wish more chairs, cheap or not, went an inch or two lower for us shorties. Especially since my gel cushion raises me a bit.

Slipped my feet into my 4” slides. Ah, that’s better.

Still miss and don’t miss Simone. As I stepped out of the shower I thought to myself, aw, that’s another water drop game she has to miss. She used to love swatting at drops of water sliding down the inside of the door. She would chase the laser light, and well, sometimes I miss running around the place with her. I don’t miss her constant whining, destructiveness and getting underfoot, though, that’s for sure. It’s also nice not to have to worry about being woken up, and to go into the laundry room where her litter box used to be and notice how good it smells in there.

Don’t remember much in the way of dreams last night. Something about a fire breaking out in a hospital room when all the staff was in a meeting. I had to figure out how to alert them to the fire and hope they believed me.

Then I had a dream about an old man who was very ill and had been in the care of several people. I was naming off those who had had a hand in helping him out to some other woman, and she pointed to a dark-haired woman and said she’d help him a lot, too. That person was Stacey, the last therapist I saw. I felt bad for forgetting her because she was so nice and had truly been a big help to the guy.

My dream of having one of those life-size silicone dolls may not be just a dream after all. You can get them for a third of the cost if you buy them from Japan. They’re just not quite as nice or as realistic, but close enough. They have a bigger size range too, from 34 inches tall to 67 inches. I think it would be cool to have one around 50 inches and that’s considered medium-size in their book, which usually comes to about $2500 with shipping. Maybe I’ll Turk myself one, though it will take a few years. First I’m working on that foot-long version for just under $100, though I don’t think she’s atomically correct.

Got a hit from Laveen, AZ. I said, “Laveen, Laveen… that sounds familiar.” Then it hit me when I pulled up the map and saw that it was a town just under Phoenix that we would drive through whenever we came to Phoenix from Maricopa or vice versa.

I am so proud of myself! I did my first partial perimeter ride while there was still some light, Cars and people out and about since recovering from the trauma. Never thought I’d beat this thing! It took 10 minutes to come up from the RVs so I didn't another 10 minutes looping around the circle. I still won’t leave the circle when it's dark unless you're with me. I didn’t return to the dead-end behind our house. It’s not as easy to turn around up there as one might think, plus a couple of houses have security lights that pop on when I go by and I don’t like that.

MONDAY, JULY 20, 2015 Rescheduled the stupid shrink for December 8th, the day before my follow-up with A, and am liking my newest and probably the last of the bronze nude erotic ladies.

My rat silhouette stickers came and I love them! They look awesome above the living room windows. I have six of them in there, one in the kitchen, and one in the second bedroom.

Going to be making some healthier changes to my diet, although I don’t expect any weight loss. As I told Andy, if one needs 1200 calories to lose weight, they’ll lose the weight whether it’s 1200 cals of healthy or unhealthy food. Even my doctors have said this. Quality matters for health, but quantity is the key to weight loss.

The problem with Hashimoto’s is that our calories have to be cut so incredibly low due to an inability to burn cals normally that it’s not worth the hunger and fatigue. I don’t think he gets this, but as they say, we can state the facts but we can’t always make people understand things, LOL. Especially if they haven’t experienced it themselves. Not all bodies react the same to whatever. 25 years ago it would have been hard for me to imagine myself as I am today. But like it or not, willing to accept/believe it or not, when it comes to actual weight loss, men are different from women and those with Hashimoto’s are different from those without it. But to try to tell myself I’ll one day be 110-120 pounds would be as ridiculous as saying I’m going to grow 5”, and I’m not going to kid myself like that. I’m almost 50 now, not 25. As they say, better to change what we can and accept what we can’t.

What’s more important than how pretty I can look in the eyes of others is my health and how I feel. I know we live in an appearance-obsessed society and I’m supposed to do all I can to look pretty and all that, but I can’t live that way. I’m me and others are others. Oh, I love things like nail polish and all that, but I do that for me. Besides, one way you know people like you for you and not your appearance is when they stick around knowing you’re big. On the other hand, being about 25 pounds overweight hardly makes me that big.

My only real complaint is the belly fat I’ve accumulated these last few years. No matter what I eat and no matter how many crunches I do, I still have quite a bloat on. I realize this is a normal part of aging and that there is only so much control I have over it. Keeping things from getting worse is a lot easier than keeping things from getting better when it comes to things like that. But no matter what our age or size, healthier eating is always a good thing, not that I’m unhealthy or anything like that. As long as those of us with Hashimoto’s take our medication, we’re not unhealthy, we just don’t lose weight. But it can’t hurt to go from healthy to healthier and so I’m determined to basically cut out more sugar and cook foods from scratch, rather than get cooked, seasoned and processed foods. Andy gave me a list of suggestions.

Facebook finally implemented a positive change. Still waiting for them to give us more privacy so that we can basically separate our friends and keep our interactions with them separate from others. Andy doesn’t need to know when I post to my sister’s wall and I don’t need to know when he wishes someone a happy birthday. We don’t need to know every time we “like” something either.

Anyway, I like how they made it so that if a post of yours gets several comments you can reply directly to a specific person without tagging them. I rarely tagged anybody anyway, because I know most people don’t appreciate that and that they’re going to get a notification regardless saying that a comment was left.

SUNDAY, JULY 19, 2015 Andy was telling me more about his diet, which mainly consisted of unprocessed foods he makes from scratch. He thinks that’s my answer to weight loss, but as I told him, you don’t understand Hashimoto’s. Hashimoto’s doesn’t care where your calories come from but how many you have.

No lung issues last night, so I’m still as sure that my problems were from the cat as I am that going unprocessed won’t affect my weight. Woke up with a headache, though. Probably a caffeine headache. I went back to one cup of coffee a day from two when I realized there was no way I could make my appointment on the 27th. Gotta reschedule.

Went for another disappointingly chilly swim late yesterday afternoon. I just might not go swimming anymore this year with the way the weather’s been. We haven’t had nearly as many super hot days this summer in the triple digits as we usually do.

I’m now over 30K words in my book. Chapter 20 is on for tonight, so about 11 more chapters to go.

Had a series of strange dreams. My parents were still alive in one of them and about to move back to New England. Then they decided to stay in Florida since Tammy had moved there. I was lying on their bed in their old bedroom, since they decided to at least get a smaller place, and was awed by the view outside the window of people swimming in either a lake or part of the ocean. I was pissed that I didn’t have a similar view from my own bedroom window and was bound and determined to do all I could to have the same view, though in real life I wouldn’t want all those people outside my window.

Simone seems to be in my dreams every so often, too. In last night’s dream, I guess she was also an outdoor cat because she entered a small square empty room I was standing in, and walked up to a sliding glass door. I opened it and she went outside.

In another dream, I was warning some people that I’d seen a couple of bears in the area. Then 3 or 4 large animals went charging along the summit of a nearby hill and I said, “See that?” But they were horses and not bears.

The fun dream was where I was playing outside with what appeared to be a chipmunk or a squirrel. I was eating something and it approached me and begged for a taste of what I was eating. I threw down a crumb for it and it gobbled it up. I casually walked a few feet away and it followed me. I threw down another crumb. After I ate, it playfully chased me around.

In another dream, I wrote a note for Andy on a whiteboard that was supposed to be in Dutch, but one of the words in which I remember was in German.

Set the mannequins up for the first time since before we got new carpet, and I also trimmed the Cher wig for the new head. The new head looks good in more hair colors than my full-bodied mannequins do. Not sure she’d look good as a blond, though.

SATURDAY, JULY 18, 2015 The mannequin head has arrived and is very beautiful. Love how she has glass eyes. She also appears to have a tan and isn’t shiny like my standing one is. I might have darkened her eyes a bit and added a bit more color to her lips, but she is otherwise very pretty. They said she would arrive with a black wig and a brunette wig, but I got a brunette wig and a dark golden blonde wig. Both look good on her and both are long and layered with bangs. I think she might look best in a black wig. I’m thinking of trimming my really long black Cher wig. I will share some pics I took in a review later on.

Yesterday I was dragging so bad and I even took a nap for a while. It didn’t do anything to revive me. I perked up later on in the early evening and knew there was no way that I would sleep from midnight to 8 AM as I would have preferred. Instead, I slept longer than usual, from around 2 AM to 1 PM. I was a little surprised to be a bit congested and wheezy last night after getting into bed. Maybe I’m allergic to the new sheets or the detergent we’ve been using. Been using Arm & Hammer pods that brighten whites and colors. The stuff is so wonderful that I’ll never use old-fashioned liquid bleach again. That shit stinks anyway.

Last night I dreamed that we lived in a condo with three of them side by side. We were on the end and an older woman was next to us. I hoped that she would live a long time because she was a very quiet neighbor, but then I was disappointed to realize that she was in her 70s or 80s and probably wouldn’t live there as long as we would. The condo on the other end was huge and appeared to be owned by a rich couple. They had an awesome view of a canyon from one of their side windows and the guy who lived there said he paid people in need of assistance $10 a day to stay there.

FRIDAY, JULY 17, 2015 I fell asleep two hours earlier than I wanted to and ended up getting up 6 hours earlier than I wanted to. No chance of flipping my schedule now. I will have to try to hold it for the next 10 days but more than likely I will be rescheduling that appointment. Oh, to be able to hold a schedule! It helps that I only sleep 6 to 8 hours these days instead of 8 to 10, but it doesn’t help that I’m still sometimes up for 18 hours.

What sucks is that I can’t have my coffee for an hour. I lay in bed for a couple of hours and got up at 10 o’clock. I don’t like to take my meds before 24 hours, and I took it yesterday at 11 o’clock. Then I have to wait for a half-hour before I could have my coffee, so no food or drink other than water until 11:30.

I noticed I now have a regular at LiveJournal, though I am not sure where they are. It seems to be a corporate IP. Anyway, in my last entry, I asked if anyone ever reads the journal to leave a comment if they do. Sure enough, the person didn’t comment.

Before I tackle the laundry, assuming they don’t turn our water off, I thought I would do a quick entry. Other than the strange and funny dream I had last night involving the shitster in North Queerolina, not much is going on. Just working on my book and then hitting the pool later on. Skipped yesterday’s Dutch lesson, so I will probably get to that, too.

In the dream, I was sitting at a large table with both Tom and Maliheh. Maliheh was next to me and Tom sat across from her. Maliheh had a post-it pad with a daisy design on it I thought was just beautiful. I asked her to write her name on one of the Post-its and give it to me. “You don’t have to write your last name,” I told her.

So she starts to write and just then I had to run to the bathroom. On my way back I heard her shouting at Tom. I entered the room, laughed and said to Tom, “See? I told you she was a moody bitch who could flip on you in a split second without any warning at all.”

Tom laughed too, as Maliheh stormed out of the room when she suddenly realized that her clothes were falling off. She began to run. Laughing hysterically, I chased her up a huge winding staircase pretending to whip out a camera and take her picture in her ultimate wardrobe failure. Still screaming, I laughed and said that I was going to post it online (even though I would never do such a thing).

Then I returned to the table and looked at the daisy post-it still on the table.

“What does that mean?” Tom asked me.

I said, “She wrote du willst. That means you want.”

THURSDAY, JULY 16, 2015 I feel both tired and hungry today, sort of like I’m PMSing, even though it’s a bit early for that. I’m usually not hungry for the first two hours of my day, but I woke up hungry, ate about 350 calories worth of food, and was still hungry. No sense in eating anymore then, if I’m still going to feel hungry. I hate that! At least my weight has stabilized and is no longer an issue as long as I’m careful, even if it means keeping a little extra on this aging body of mine.

I have been having to push my schedule in order to make the stupid appointment I have at the end of the month, so the long hours are getting to me. I have been pushing myself to stay up 18 hours so I can jump it ahead two hours a day since I rarely sleep more than 8 hours these days. It’s hard on me to do it day after day, week after week. I’m not 25 anymore, ya know. I have a second cup of coffee when I’ve been up for about 10 to 12 hours, and of course that’s not good for me either.

I’ve been up 3 hours and wondering who/what is going to piss me off around here today. I’m definitely not going to take my shower until the early evening, knowing that there’s a 50/50 chance the water will be turned off.

We had a split-second power failure yesterday for some reason.

Until I read what I read, I would have said that Obama was the best president ever. Not because he’s black which would be good enough for most people these days, but because of the healthcare reform, getting the Don’t Ask Don’t Tell bullshit out of the picture, and things like that. But when I read that he’s made a so-called deal with Iran on nuclear weapons, my first thought was, can our president really be that naïve? That stupid? That trusting? That gullible?

Who the hell has ever been able to trust those savage beasts that live, breathe, eat and piss violence all the while claiming to be a “peaceful” species? Their answer to everything that pisses them off is to kill, kill and kill some more. Is that who he really wants to be making “deals” with? These are the kinds of people that if the Iranian government were to stumble upon this blog, would do everything they could to kidnap me, bring me to their country, and then kill me. But I’m not about to let them or other bullies intimidate me from speaking my mind. Everything we do has its potential risks. But making the kind of deal the president made was totally insane. Now the US is in even more danger. These are the kinds of people who will kill themselves and their families just to kill those they hate. Imagine the mindset it would take to kill your parents, your siblings, and your best friends just to kill those you despised! I wonder if they’re even capable of experiencing feelings of love in the first place.

We will be getting a new recycle bin on the 24th. I saw a guy delivering one to the house across the street yesterday and jumped out to ask how we could get a new one. The front of the lid on ours has been cracked ever since we moved in. They taped it, but it’s not very secure. On the rare occasion it happens to be raining when the thing is out on the street waiting to be picked up, it would be nice to have a solid lid with no cracks in it so that the stuff inside doesn’t get wet.

Last night I dreamed I was delivering a message in Spanish from a woman named Carla to a man named Carlos. It was the most Spanish I ever spoke in a dream, but I don’t remember anything I said.

Then I was in a fairly good-sized building where people were either living or staying temporarily in these small rooms, but it didn’t look like a hotel of any kind. I was in a room with some woman and she just plugged in Amazon Echo’s Alexa and loved the sound she made upon startup. Then she wanted to watch an old movie I had no interest in seeing. Instead, I wanted to go out and mingle with other people.

So I left the room where some tiny black kitten leaped onto my shoulder and began to rub its head against me affectionately. I thought it was oh-so cute, and then I remembered that I’m allergic to cats.

Now I’m going to go try to muster up enough energy to work out, do some cleaning, and work on my book.

I’m ordering another one of those bronze nude erotic female figures as well, and what a doll I found afterward! They have these mini 1/6 “real” dolls by Phicen, a Japanese company. Or maybe it’s China. Either way, they’re only about a foot long, but they have a steel skeleton, are anatomically correct (I think), and are extremely poseable. They come with detachable hands, feet, and heads, so you can change them if you want. I’ve got my eye on an Asian one that looks incredibly realistic. A little small for $100, but definitely something I’m interested in.

WEDNESDAY, JULY 15, 2015 There has been an annoyance here every single day this week so far. Monday the water was off. Yesterday there was tons of landscaping seemingly everywhere. Today the water was off again for the THIRD time in less than two weeks, and they tore out a dead birch tree in the common area. The guy told me it would take 20 minutes, but it really took closer to three hours and the noise was deafening.

I saw Bob and Virginia pull in and went out to warn them that the water was off. I ended up talking to Virginia because Bob had already gone into the house. According to her, they’ve been doing this since they moved in here in 1988. I was like, OMFG, you’ve got to be kidding me! There is NO excuse to be playing these fucking water games for that long, and for the first time in the two years we’ve been here I’m wondering if we should move. She said they used to call and tell them when they would be turning the water off, but that’s not the point. The point is that they’re doing it unnecessarily whether they tell us upfront or not. It’s like they do it just to fuck with us. So I really have to be sure not to shower or wash clothes or dishes during the daytime.

I love our house, and the park is aesthetically pleasing to the eye, but for the amount of money we’re paying, we should have water all the time. When we were told that they sometimes turn the water off upon coming to this place, we thought that meant once or twice a year. Not once or twice a month. It’s fucking ridiculous.

I just can’t imagine where else we would go, but I would rather save money in an older place that’s not as nice in order to have water full-time. The only problem is that trees die everywhere, home renovations occur everywhere, and transformers need to be replaced everywhere, too. So if we moved, we might be trading in one problem for another and that new problem could be worse. The plan was to stay here at least till he retired unless we ever got so broke again that we lost the place. The place is quieter in the summer overall, but I’m sick of the water games and I’m sick of the loud projects. Haven’t heard any individuals sawing or hammering in several months, but that’s more of the winter thing.

My leg muscles are sore as hell today after waking up muscles I’m not used to working by doing that exercise video yesterday. It’s a reminder that running and riding don’t work every single leg muscle. Despite being sore I did today’s cleaning and even some running sprints on the treadmill. I have been deep cleaning the house in sections throughout the week to get rid of as much dander as possible, and today was the first morning I didn’t wake up congested. The day after she left I was okay once I was awake, but still woke up congested until today.

It takes less than two minutes of running at 5 MPH to burn 20 calories. I’m trying to do this every half hour to an hour to see if it really makes a difference. I noticed that when I was doing scattered running bursts when I would play with Simone it seemed to boost my metabolism even more. I’m also trying not to eat over 1200-1300 cals a day. That part is a lot harder than the sprints.

My dreams have been too vague to be worth mentioning, but I can say that I haven’t gotten much done on today's chapter yet. I hate the middle of stories. That's where it gets tough to keep enough interesting things going. Setting the stage at the beginning and bringing it all together at the end is much easier.

To help make up for our frustration is knowing that we’re about to get some Amazon goodies, even though we’re not impressed with any of the prime stuff that’s on sale today. He’s getting 4 things and I’m getting 4 things, plus a household item.

His goodies are electronics-related. I’m getting a large colorized rat photo sticker, eight small rat silhouette stickers, an anime doll, and a really gorgeous mannequin head. This one has dark glass eyes and a swivel head. She also comes with a black wig and a brunette wig. Great deal for $33!

The household item is a toilet paper bar for the second bath. I hate old-fashioned toilet paper holders. As soon as I got the one where you just slide the rolls on down in Arizona, I have been spoiled where that’s concerned ever since, LOL.

TUESDAY, JULY 14, 2015 I like to use some of the questions I’m asked on different sites as writing prompts, especially when I really don’t have much to update on. I was asked if I believe in curses and blessings. In the past, I would have been quick to say yes. When you’re going through a rough time it’s easy to feel you’re cursed, just like it’s easy to think, wow, I’m really blessed, when things are going well.

But when you think about it realistically… shit happens. Shit happens to me. Shit happens to you. Shit happens to everyone. So if I’m “cursed,” so are you.

Good things happen, too. To everyone. So if you’re blessed, so am I. So I think my answer is that life is full of ups and downs, but I don’t know that we’re necessarily “cursed” or “blessed.”

It’s kind of the same when I think back and asked myself if there really ever was a neighbor curse on me. Yes, I have had some unusually noisy neighbors and I have lived in some extraordinarily noisy places, and there sure seemed to be a neighbor curse on me throughout most of the '90s.

But looking at this from a logical standpoint as well… people are noisy. Life is noisy and where there are people there is noise. My '90’s neighbors were definitely extreme, but I have heard so, so many people complain about the same things I had to live with before I moved to a retirement community. Some places are worse than others, but no place is 100% quiet.

I was watching some videos of Daniel and Kelli of Fitness Blender. I have always loved following their exercise videos as opposed to any other trainers because they cut to the chase and get right down to business without all the frills and extra shit you don’t need. They don’t play unwanted music and they also have a progress bar that shows you how many calories you’re burning throughout the workout. Not having noise in the background makes it easier to hear them speaking, the quality of their videos is good, and I like how they show you a few sample exercises before they go into doing sets and rounds of that particular exercise. That way you will have a better idea of how to do anything unfamiliar to you.

In one of their videos, they answer questions they often get, and they were saying that you want to aim for a 1000-calorie deficit daily, 500 eliminated from your diet and 500 burned through exercise. It would be easier for me to stand to exercise long enough to burn 500 cals than it would for me to scale back 500 calories from my diet down to 1000 cals a day. That’s like starving! They say you shouldn’t lose more than 2 pounds a week because anything faster than that means you’re losing muscle.

They have several 1000-calorie exercise vids that last for about 90 minutes, and I’m curious to see if burning as I eat might help me lose weight with Hashimoto’s since I can usually only stand to go as low as about 1200 to 1300 cals a day. If I had a 400-cal meal, then I would do the video until I burned that much, pause it, then wait till I ate again.

Honestly, I don’t think this will make any difference other than to get me in great shape, making me even stronger, more flexible and more energetic than my 30-minute workouts, but will see. I’m still a middle-aged woman, and even with medication, one with Hashimoto’s doesn’t burn calories like a regular person. It won’t kill me to try it for a week or two, though it’s not good to do HIIT routines every day because they are so kick-ass. I will only do those two or three times a week. Other days I will run and ride, and allow myself 1-2 days a week of rest.

MONDAY, JULY 13, 2015 Carol and her daughter came yesterday and got the cat perch and a few other things. Simone is still with her and she has promised to be really selective about who adopts her. I still have mixed emotions about having to give her up. A part of me missed having to tell her to get out of the way while I was cleaning this morning. But an even bigger part of me likes to breathe easier. Surprisingly, I’m already getting better. I thought it would take a week or two. I had just a little congestion and wheezing after I got into bed, but am otherwise better. So now my asthma has once again been rendered dormant, and that’s the way it should be since I don’t smoke.

I wish there was a way to test out climates before moving to them. If we really do retire in either Hawaii or Florida, it would be nice to live there for a couple of months to see how my lungs are going to react. I had no problem when I was in Hawaii, but I was only there for a week. No problem cruising the Caribbean either, but that too was only for a week.

It took two wet Swiffers to mop the small bathroom floor and the laundry room floor. Both Swiffer’s were totally blackened when I was done. Where the hell did all this dirt come from?

It’s been unusually cool, though quiet around here. That is, except for Saturday morning. They were cutting a tree down just outside the park and that was a little annoying. Temperatures are warming up again, so I will definitely want to go swimming sometime this week. For about three days it was cloudy, cool and windy, but it never rained. The grass is all brown along the perimeter of the park because they’re conserving water.

Yesterday morning I woke up with a headache that started in my forehead and then moved down between my eyes. I don’t know what the hell that was. Maybe a sinus headache.

My wall decal of the window to the woods arrived over the weekend and it’s now on the master bathroom wall and looks great. The quote it came with, however, makes absolutely no sense at all. It says, "The beautiful views out of the window for alley."

I can remove the writing. I just thought it was a funny phrase. I am such a sticker addict that even though I say I’m done with them for a while, I always get more. I’m getting a large colorized photo sticker of a brown rat that I will place above the rat cage, and a set of eight realistic rat silhouettes that are smaller.

I did some bike riding, said hello to Jim along the way, then I did some running. I took my Dutch lesson, and after I post this I will get on with my story. Busy day.

SUNDAY, JULY 12, 2015 Carol called yesterday afternoon wanting to know if she could pick up the perch and a few other things at noon today instead of yesterday. We said that would be fine. Her daughter has a truck, so they’re going to move it in that.

Simone isn’t up for adoption this weekend, I don’t think, because they currently have so many cats. I still miss and don’t miss her. I miss running around with her, but I like knowing that the lip gloss I placed on this desk isn’t going to move until I move it.

Woke up feeling tired again, like I did yesterday, but I’m becoming more functional. Have a slight headache, too.

We’ve been so busy that we still haven’t gotten around to the casino or getting new glasses, which we both need. I was supposed to go to an eye specialist a year ago due to OH, but never did because I had the medication crisis going on at the time, and as those who know me well know, recovery took months. I’m just glad it took months and not years, as some other problems have taken (poverty, blacks).

I vacuumed the place, including the couch, and I’m starting to feel better. I didn’t think I would feel better this fast, so yeah, it was definitely her messing up my lungs.

Last night I dreamed that Tammy, Mark and myself were staying in a hotel somewhere. It was a huge building and they were on one of the lower floors. I spent most of the day bored in my room, waiting for her to call because I thought she had something planned for us to do that day, wherever we were. They knew the area well, could drive, and had more experience with vacation planning. So I left it to them, knowing they would prefer to take care of things anyway, and trusted that I would love anything they had planned for us.

I listened to some music and then checked the weather for the day. It was to be 81°.

Finally, I wanted to call her to see what was going on but couldn’t remember her room number. Then I realized I could just call her cell from mine. I picked up my phone to find it dead so I plugged it in the charger.

I was back home in the next dream, only the park looked different. The person next to us had a double-car garage that had been chock full of stuff. The fact that they were clearing it out made me worry that they were doing it so someone could move in and live in it. Especially since I could spot a tiny room with a toilet, sink and shower stall in it.

Then I was swimming in a pond or lake with another resident and we were talking about how someone’s dog died and they were moving because they were too old to stay there, and how much I wanted to move to Hawaii.

SATURDAY, JULY 11, 2015 Simone is already gone and I am both sad and glad. My lungs were horrible yesterday. I was tight, congested and a little wheezy. Even Carol noticed how bad I sounded on the phone, so for that much, I am glad.

She contacted Tom at work who Skyped me to say that she wanted to pick her up in the evening so that she didn’t have to sit in a carrier for too long tomorrow at Petco. I guess she is going to really look for someone like us who is older and where there is someone home a lot.

Although it doesn’t cover the few hundred dollars we spent on her, she has agreed to give us $50 to take her stuff. I like knowing that this way Simone will have things that are familiar to her. I would also rather get a little money and get rid of the stuff than get nothing at all and be stuck with it. There are a few things that rats can use, but most of them would just sit here. The more of her belongings she takes, the more dander is removed from the house.

Tom is going to fill me in on the details when he gets up, but I’m guessing she is spending the night at Carol’s house tonight. Carol bought the stuff not just so Simone could have it but also because she has many cats and is always in need of things for them. Simone was with us for six weeks and already I can see that the cat tower isn’t going to last her whole life. They really do tear things up with their teeth and claws. I noticed just yesterday that she’s been tearing up a piece of the carpet by the bookcase.

I have such mixed emotions about her! Of course I will miss the little shit and I hope she is given to someone who will give her plenty of love and attention. I don’t know how cats think and feel. I don’t know if she’s depressed right now and wants to come back here or not. My guess is that she will be happy as long as she has someone around to give her the things she needs and wants. Cats don’t seem to be all that picky about who it is or where they are as long as they’re happy.

I will definitely not miss all the noise she made. I have never met or heard of a cat that vocal. It wasn’t always a traditional “meow,” but these gurgling, groaning, moaning and squeaky-like sounds she would also make. It didn’t seem to matter what she was doing either. As long as she wasn’t eating or sleeping, she was probably meowing or whining in some form or another. It was extremely distracting and her constant clinginess and being underfoot was highly annoying. So was the stinky poo box. No matter how clean you keep it and no matter how many air cleaners you run, if you have a nose like mine, you still notice it.

She got into everything and anything due to how easy cats can get around, and it was hard to really interact with her at times. I couldn’t just pat her and cuddle her because I had to watch out for getting bit or scratched since they think everything is a game.

However, I will miss the fun times we had. Simone was a very sweet, loving cat and probably one of the most beautiful cats I ever saw. She had a beautiful color pattern and I loved the feel of her soft silky fur. I hope she finds a very happy home! I will still miss some of the things that annoyed me. When I get up I like to be left alone for the first hour or so. I’m very slow to wake up. But the first thing she would do was run up to me and rub against me, get underfoot, and meow up a storm. So that’s one of the things I will miss but I won’t miss. As understanding as Tom is, I feel bad for him because he really came to love her, probably more than I did.

Anyway, Carol took most of her things but couldn’t fit the perch in her car so she’s going to come back today. Meanwhile, I go back to being the one kind of pet mom I was meant to be… a proud rat mommy!

FRIDAY, JULY 10, 2015 This cat is crazy! Really, she is driving me so crazy tonight, getting underfoot, constantly whining, and just going totally wild. I will remember this, and my allergies, every time I get to missing her when she’s gone. Just one more day in Crazyville. She’s been way more distracting and way more work than I anticipated. I don’t mind hard work, mind you, but I would rather it be on stories and languages, even if no one will ever pay me to do it any more than they’d pay me to own a cat.

I will be cleaning and washing things like crazy next week to get rid of as much of the dander as I can.

What else can I complain about? How about the weather? The last two days have felt more like fall than summer. We had to wait so long for summer to kick in this year, and now this. :( I appreciate the savings, but one’s AC should be running in the summer even in the middle of the night unless they live in Klamath Falls, Oregon.

They’re saying the drought could be nearing its end and El Niño could dump lots of rain, and even flooding, on NorCal this winter. Yeah? Well, I’ll believe it when I see it. Would love that, though. If it’s going to be cold anyway, might as well rain more people indoors and get a little more peace since winters are typically noisier here than summers.

Cold or not, this is a better anniversary than yesterday was. Today we’ve been in this house for two years. It was a very emotional day for me in a very good way.

Got my last temperature color-changing polish, but need to let my nails grow a bit longer. The longer the better for this stuff. Got the eyeshadow/liner pencils too, but eh, not that impressed with those. I’m so pale that some of them don’t even show up, and where’s the glitter? No es purpurina. :(

I decided to drop the trilogy idea and just do one whole story. While Enslaved may be a fitting title, I’ve decided to go with Rainstorm.

Tammy said she had some ideas for my story and to send her a little at a time if I would like her input. Hmm… that’s nice, but why the interest? It’s not like her to be into this sort of thing. Does she simply find this interesting, or does she want to know she had some say in the story in case I ever make any real money at writing? She just doesn’t usually do something like this unless there’s something in it for her. I still see no way I’ll ever make any serious money writing, but that’s ok. It’s still fun.

THURSDAY, JULY 9, 2015 This was the day I “fought” for my life, or at least thought I was, not knowing what the hell was going on, thanks to the so-called good docs that left me rather ill-informed. Little did I know what hell I’d be in for over the next several months until I could find a doctor that would not only explain more to me about how thyroids work, but that cared enough to get my medication dose regulated. Thanks, Doc O. I wish I’d seen you all along.

The older I get, the more I believe the God fantasy was created as a means of surviving life and is basically an adult’s version of an imaginary friend as most children have their own imaginary friends when they’re young. But IF there is any truth to the God thing and IF it does pick and choose our experiences, I will NEVER forgive it for having the shit scared out of me so damn bad that day. I didn’t know if I would live or die. Even once I knew I would live, I suffered both physically and emotionally in ways I never had before for many months. I didn’t deserve that. I hadn’t harmed anyone. I hadn’t done anything but just live my life.

When people would say something like, “I’m anxious to get started,” or “I’m anxious to get going…” that’s what I thought anxiety meant. I thought it was a form of being restless and impatient. I didn’t know that REAL anxiety meant being scared shitless no matter how much your common sense side said you didn’t have a damn thing to fear. It was easily the worst experience of my life and I hope to hell I never suffer like that again.

In happier news, I talked to texted my last chapter on my smartphone and into an email to myself, which I then copied into Word. It seemed to take just minutes, and Google’s speech-to-text is more accurate than the built-in dictation. I still have to edit it by creating paragraphs and adding quotes to dialogue, but it’s not the hassle I thought it might be. I just use a font where the end quotes are the same as the starting quotes, copy the symbol, and then just paste, paste and paste along the way.

WEDNESDAY, JULY 8, 2015 Still having some congestion and wheezing along with mixed emotions about getting rid of Simone this weekend.

My NaNoWriMo book is coming along well. I should arrive at around 13K words tonight.

I had a series of strange and senseless dreams. At one point what sounded like someone knocking on the door woke me up, but it had to have been a dream because the front door is too far away to be heard over the sound machine.

In one dream I was singing and recording a karaoke while showing someone a video Mitch sent me that was taken in some recording studio or something like that. I kept hoping he’d appear in it so I could show the person.

In another dream, I had been out all night somewhere, came home in the early morning, then realized I didn’t have the keys to get in. I knocked on the door and heard the lock being unlocked. When I opened the door and stepped into the room, I couldn’t see anyone but knew it had been my mother who unlocked the door.

After hanging out on some beaches, I was suddenly in a room with Teddy Bear and some other woman trying on clothes. Teddy Bear never said anything the whole time, but I knew she knew who I was. I slipped on a pair of pants and the other woman said not to wear them over shorts. I said, “I don’t have shorts on. Those are my boyshort panties. Once I was diagnosed with Hashimoto’s I knew the extra weight would never come off and so I had to adapt.”

Speaking of that, it still pisses me off to have such little control over my own body. I know I don’t have any more or less control than the next person, but I still like to be in the driver’s seat of my life AND my body. Yet even with proper treatment, my body will never burn calories like a regular person. Yes, I still exercise to stay healthy and in good shape, but the never-ending cycle of dieting and exercising, dieting and exercising just to stay 25 pounds overweight does get old at times. It isn’t being big that I mind. Being big actually has some benefits, believe it or not. It’s the lack of control that still frustrates me at times. I feel like my efforts should reap the same rewards that others get from it. On the other hand, I admit my calories haven’t been all that low lately, even though I’ve been pretty consistent with working out. They’ve been reasonable, but not low.

TUESDAY, JULY 7, 2015 Not surprisingly, Andy is just now FINALLY realizing just how sick I am of the race shit and jokes pertaining to that. I thought he would’ve caught on years ago after the hell they put me through.

I know 90-something percent of the population admires blacks and sees them as these poor, poor little victims, but I see them as nothing but the angry, vengeful and often violent assholes that they are who love to take advantage of knowing they’ll be excused from most of their hate crimes and other shit as well. These fuckers are getting so out of control I wonder what’s next… are they going to start decapitating us Muzzie style? Meanwhile, true racism and discrimination against them these days are rare and often trumped up and exaggerated where there may be a grain of truth to their claims.

Well, their shit isn’t “funny” or anything to joke about when you consider how many people they’ve hurt and how many lives they’ve ruined. I’m far from the only one who lost so, so much to these shitsters. Sometimes people really truly do make their own haters, not that many Americans hate them these days, and I’m not ashamed to name those groups I’m less than fond of any more than I am those individuals I’m not thrilled with. Fifty years ago whites hated them just to hate them. Today, no matter what offenses they commit against them, whites will be quick to defend or make excuses for them. I don’t get it. I just don’t get it. But like I also said, I’m sick of hearing about them and just as sick of venting about them, so I will wrap it up. They’ll never change, and if they do, I don’t see it happening anytime soon.

On the night of the 4th, I went out into the street to see the fireworks being shot off down at the lake. A woman, also short like me and who appeared to be around my age, came up behind me and introduced herself as Dusty. She had long sandy brown hair and glasses. She said she’d been here two years, her cat wasn’t afraid of all the noise, and she’d never been to the lake. She’s living with a widow who’s been here 28 years. I’ve never seen her before but she said she’s seen me out walking around. I’m not surprised. Everybody knows me here but doesn’t really know me, LOL.

Due to the lung issues I’ve been having (oh, how they remind me of what I went through in the 90s and what my sister goes through these days), I’ve been trying to distance myself from Simone. Yesterday, however, she was determined to get my attention in a way she never had before. She jumped up on my lap, purring away. As disruptive as it was since I was in the middle of typing, it was so sweet, too. I went into the bedroom and cried at the thought of giving her up and wondering what would become of her, but I still didn’t see any way around it. My lungs are a little better right now, but my eyes itched a bit yesterday and I still cough up this nasty-tasting shit. It comes and goes and wouldn’t be easy to live with indefinitely. Taking regular medication for allergies and asthma also wouldn’t be good for me because that may cause long-term problems from what I read. If I can remove a problem before I have to medicate it, that’s still the route I prefer to take, even though I’ll miss the little shit. She hid my pen and lip balm somewhere. I just hate to take her away from Tom, and I hate all the money we’ll lose, too.

I dreamed of speaking in Spanish (no sé lo que dije) to a woman whose nose was made of shiny silver metal, and then Tom and I were picking up our mail on the ground floor of a huge multi-story building somewhere.

SUNDAY, JULY 5, 2015 My period hit full blast so that probably was an ovulation pain I felt two weeks ago.

The Cat River Rescue people blew me off completely when I asked them if they had any tips on quieting Simone down. She’s only been quieter tonight because I really yelled at her good for the constant meowing and getting underfoot. The meowing is at its worst when Tom and I are talking. It’s like she’s either jealous or determined to join in the conversation.

Sometimes I still feel more like we’ve got a kid than a cat. She’s noisy, she’s underfoot, and I have to baby-proof every little thing. Certain objects are safe from her, but she gets a hold of smaller things and hides them.

I can’t let her in the other bedroom when I sleep anymore, cuz she wakes me up by playing along the dividing wall. I can’t do much of anything with this cat. Sometimes she’s sweet and fun, but most of the time she’s annoying and an inconvenience.

I’m once again contemplating returning her, even though most people would think that was cruel. I would just say she ran away or something. The only things stopping me are the same things that stopped me before – we put so much money into her and Tom really loves her.

Christiane replied to my message saying hello to her and telling her how hot it was here. She lives in Leipzig. I wasn’t sure if Nane had poisoned her against me since our little cyber breakup, but then again maybe Nane's dumped her, too. Sometimes I think of re-adding Christiane if she wouldn’t mind because fuck Nane and what she wanted. We have the right to be friends with whomever we want and I kinda feel bad for deleting her just because Nane got jealous. I’m not blind. I can see that Christiane’s a hottie. But I don’t have the crush on her I once had on Nane.

Anyway, she said it was hot there too, and attached a pic showing the dials in her car. It was cool seeing the German writing and all that all over the dash. I had to look up “reichweise,” though. I didn’t know that one.

Facebook recommends people we might know to us, and every now and then I noticed it kept recommending an older woman named Mary G. Mary G who happens to live in MA. Well, I don’t know anything about Ronnie’s second wife, but I do know her name was Mary. Assuming they’re still together, I sent a message saying:

So the bastard hasn't croaked yet? Had a dream about the little bully last night. Just wrote about it in my blog as a matter of fact. Oh, how lucky we both are I wasn't like I am today when he would shove me around and make his little threats when I'd be stuck having to stay at his and his ex's place.

This is so true, too. Had he waited another decade or so to punk me around like that, he’d have gone to the hospital and I’d have gone to jail. Same goes for the other uncle.

His first wife June was pretty nice, but what a bastard Ronnie could be. I never actually saw him be physically abusive to her or his daughters, but I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if he was, just like I wasn’t surprised to learn of my sister’s ex. The only difference between June, Tammy and myself is that they’re kinder people who are more apt to forgive and who can even continue to love someone who’s screwed them. Me… I punch back, I lose all love and respect for them, I don’t forgive, and I sure as hell don’t forget. I don’t care whose method of response is the so-called correct one either. I simply do what works for me and let others do the same.

Anyway, I’m not totally sure it’s the cock’s wife. There’s no Lori or Lisa on her friend list or any other name I recognize, and the account appears not to have been updated since 2012.

Later…

Mary read the message but didn’t reply or block me. Still don’t know if it’s her or not. If it’s not her, why didn’t she reply to tell me so? If it is her, why didn’t she block me?

In the wee hours of the morning, we went to Denny’s. He got a ham and cheese omelet and I decided to get something I rarely have at home and that isn’t very heart-healthy. So I loaded up on eggs, bacon, pancakes, and fries.

We stopped at Walgreens afterward where I got a really light but bright shade of neon orange nail polish I’ve never had before despite having nearly every color in the world. Too bad I just did my nails, LOL, in hot pink.

When we got back to the house I played with the cat a bit and then noticed my eyes itched and my lungs felt a bit congested. I’ve had some coughing and even some wheezing for 2-3 weeks now. I first thought it was that I had gotten overly strong incense, even though I rarely burn it these days, and haven’t had this type of reaction to the stuff in the 12 years or so that I’ve used it. Remember, I once used to make my own incense down in Arizona. I’d love to get back into it and sell it online, but there’s way too much competition there and I’d lose more money to supplies long before I could ever come close to making a profit.

Anyway, I began to suspect the cat could be causing this reaction, but didn’t think much of it. One day I even wished I had an inhaler for the first time since the new carpet they installed in the duplex we rented back in 2004 caused me to wheeze for some reason. I haven’t used inhalers for about 13 years now.

Then she accidentally scratched me when I wasn’t quick enough to pull away from her when we were playing. Even though it didn’t seem like she’d scratched me that hard, it was itching like mad and bleeding a little. Now that I’m older, my skin is thinner and so I bleed easier. She’s made poor Tom bleed even more. Anyway, I went online to see if I could find out why cat scratches make me itch and what to do about it. In learning that it’s usually an allergic reaction caused by proteins in their saliva, bacteria and dander, I accidentally found my symptoms as being an allergic reaction. I was both surprised and not surprised. When I think of allergic reactions to cats, I think of non-stop sneezing. Bet I had the same coughing and wheezing with Sasha and Shadow (till I was forced to get rid of them) but didn’t know it because I smoked at the time and had lung issues anyway. I’ve always had allergies in general. But when they’re rendered dormant through lack of contact with irritants and you’ve been taking a nasal spray for the sneezing part of it, you forget that other things can affect you in other ways. They just usually take weeks or even months to get you. My sister only recently learned she’s allergic to coconut palms and she’s been in Florida for over a year now.

Anyway, although I know that keeping Simone wouldn’t kill me, it’s a very annoying and uncomfortable thing to have to live with when you wake up (that’s when it’s worse) hacking your brains out with congestion, wheezing, and feeling like someone karate chopped you between the shoulder blades. Knowing I wouldn’t get any better, I called Carol and agreed to bring her back to Petco next weekend where they’ll be set up adopting out cats, as usual. She said this way she has a chance to figure out what to do with her.

I feel terrible about the whole thing. It truly sucks. I really liked the idea of a pet that lived longer than rats, we invested so much money in her, and Tom really came to love her. I know he knows I didn’t ask for these allergies and doesn’t blame me and all that, but I still feel awful about it. I’ll miss that little devil’s sweet side. Will I miss the constant meowing, her getting underfoot, her sometimes stinky litter box, her messing with things around here, and having to dodge her teeth and claws? No, not at all. But I will miss the fun games we used to play, cuddling, and just having her around BIG time.

I feel bad for Simone as well, of course. I hate to put her through this, but hopefully, she will see it as one big old adventure and will end up in a wonderful place. I still feel like a real shit for this even though it’s not my fault and one has a right to do what they need to do to breathe easier.

No texts, calls or letters from Paula. I’m not really surprised. She’s more the heat-of-the-moment type and not the vengeful type, though regardless of who dumped who, once we’re done with each other I automatically ignore and delete anything I may get from anyone that may have a hard time letting go without reading/ listening to what they have to say. My philosophy is that once you’re done with each other, what more is there to say other than in one’s journal or to another friend?

SATURDAY, JULY 4, 2015 I hear tons of fireworks right now, but at least it hasn't gone on for days like it has for some other people who have been hearing them both night and day. I only heard a little bit last night and quite a bit right now off in the distance.

Going out to Denny's later on.

Love my new nail toys. I got a kit that removes gel polish and it does a great job. The metal "sloughing" tool is fantastic not just for removing old gel polish but for pushing back cuticles as well. I like it better than orange sticks because the sticks can dig into you at times and that can be a little uncomfortable.

FRIDAY, JULY 3, 2015 Xfinity and SEFNCO arrived at 9pm last night and worked on the high-speed Internet. I didn’t hear much in the house this time around since they weren’t digging anywhere. We wondered if they put a temporary patch on since they were only here an hour.

Last night I dreamed of my dentist, though I’m not sure where we were or what we were doing. I don’t see her till September.

Then I dreamed of my mother’s brother, Ronnie. Funny how we often act totally different in dreams than we would in real life. I hated the guy same as I did my father’s brother. That one’s dead, though. They were both mean little bullies. In the dream, I saw him somewhere and he was very old as he would be in real life by now. For some reason, I was eager to find out how his health was these days and tell him that I had Hashimoto’s and that was why I would always be heavy no matter how active I was and no matter what I ate.

In reality, I couldn’t care less about his health and I don’t feel the need to defend my weight. If someone asks about it, I don’t mind telling them about it, but I am the size I was meant to be just like I’m the height I was meant to be.

I’m just over 5000 words for NaNoWriMo and tonight’s goal is to hit around 6050.

THURSDAY, JULY 2, 2015 "Not supporting gay marriage doesn't mean not loving your gay friends as you love your straight friends."

What a bunch of bullshit this statement is. As I always said, if you loved them then you wouldn't want to deny them any rights.

Forgot to say that we went swimming on Tuesday, an hour later than we did the last time and they were just finishing up with the water aerobics. Even so, there were two women in the pool and three sitting at a table playing a game. As we were leaving, three more women made their way in. I swear I don’t remember the pool being this crowded last year or the year before.

Our Internet provider was out (they peeked in one of my blogs earlier, LOL) and it turns out the whole street has no high-speed Internet. Tom says old people are hesitant to complain and so that’s probably why no one else called it in. Really? Is that why nobody says anything about the kids living in back or about the racket some people make in their garages during the cooler months?

Anyway, SMUD fucked up some cables when they were working the other night, and even started a little fire outside someone’s house that burned a little bit of paneling off. This was down at the end of the street. The guy says it’s to be fixed in about a day or so, but for tonight I will be on the slower, less reliable Wi-Fi. I shouldn’t be online much either way because I’m busy writing and I will be out bike riding, too. It’s actually a little breezy, cloudy, and muggy, but it’s not as hot as it was the last two days.

I’m doing my first trilogy - Enslaved, Rainstorm, and Nurse Chris. The first book is going to be based on a wacky dream I had recently.

In Book 1, Rain is blackmailed by a woman who demands that she let her sleep in her basement and service her late at night or else she will kill her husband and see to it that a certain picture goes viral that she wouldn’t want to share. Eventually, Rain works up the nerve to tell her husband what’s going on and they move to another house. Just went they start to feel safe and comfortable, the woman reappears to Rain, but is never apprehended.

In Book 2, they move cross-country and rent an apartment for a few months until they find a house that ends up across from one of Rain’s doctors. She gets another doctor and they become friends. The doctor, who was lonely after losing her husband, becomes obsessed with Rain and kills her husband, leaving Rain to believe that the madwoman tracked them down and killed him. But the doctor’s hopes of Rain moving in with her are dashed when Rain decides the doc simply comes on too strong.

In Book 3, Rain has a nervous breakdown after the loss of her husband and ends up in the psych hospital. One of the nurses there comes to care for her, and Rain finds the feeling is mutual. When the friendly nurse learns of an insurance scam going on, she vows to break Rain out of the hospital despite rumors that Rain’s “madwoman” was never anything more than just a figment of her imagination spawned by a previous attack.

WEDNESDAY, JULY 1, 2015 I’m so fucking pissed right now! Oh, it’s been a great writing night, all right, but I won’t be able to post this online for a while. That’s because SMUD is here. I don’t know what the fuck they’re doing here in the middle of the night, but things running, loud sounds, being inconvenienced and distracted… that’s all supposed to be a daytime thing. They’ve been ruining my peace for about an hour now, and now I can’t get online.

At 1:30, I heard a large vehicle turn down the street that I figured was the trailer on the other side of the circle. They loop around and then park in front of their place so they can pull out easier. But when I looked outside I saw a very big and strange-looking vehicle. I didn’t think anything of it till a loud whirring motor started running.

Curious, I threw on some decent clothes and walked down the street to check it out. I thought another pipe burst at first and that our water would be turned off. They were working some “hose” into the ground by the very side of the road about half a dozen houses away. It was so fucking loud I couldn’t stand to get very close, and I knew that even if I could ask someone what the hell was going on, I probably wouldn’t be able to hear the answer anyway. The three guys I saw were busy working away, though I could see “SMUD” written on the truck and immediately knew it had to do with the electricity.

Tom just got up and said he saw their trucks earlier. sighs please don’t tell me we’re going to go back to always having something going on around here, and now at night, too.

Later…

Now I have more information on SMUD and all that. In digging up the road, which was probably due to a blown transformer, they managed to damage some wires and take out our Internet connection. Even though they claimed it was up and running again by 11:30 this morning, it was clearly still out when I got up at 2:00. I tried a handful of tricks and nothing worked. Went Tom got home he tried some tricks as well and nothing worked. So he called them up, told them that SMUD was out last night, and they’re going to send a tech out tomorrow afternoon.

We knew they either damaged our modem somehow or the cables were damaged. I hoped that it would be their damage and not ours, because our modem isn’t that old, if even that, and there’s nothing like having to pay for what someone else breaks.

He said, “Relax, we can buy anything we need to buy.”

I said, “Anything?”

He said, “Yes.”

I said, “Good. Let’s buy a houseboat in Maui then.”

LOL

Tom then remembered our old cable box that he hooked up to the TV and was able to determine that it wasn’t our modem since there was no signal coming through.

“I bet it would have been our modem if we were still poor,” I told him. “Notice how things haven’t been breaking like crazy now that we have money?” haha

For now, I'm on Wi-Fi instead of high-speed Internet. The Wi-Fi is like Auburn… Slow and unreliable. One day isn't going to kill me though, and since I'm busy writing anyway the timing worked out well. So it's just a minor annoyance and not a crisis. The most important thing was that I could still call out in an emergency. I just had to type manually because Google’s talk-to-text is an Internet thing. No using Alexa tonight either, but if I need a timer set, I can still use the egg timer.

My point about not being able to find things when we look for them proved to be correct again, too. This cat, which has been causing more mischief than I ever did in my prankster days, has been hiding things lately. He needed the razor to cut something open yet it wasn’t on the counter where it usually is. He started looking for it to no avail and I told him to just wait and we’ll find it when we’re not looking for it. Sure enough, I opened the pantry a short while later and found that the little shit had kicked it under the door.

When she is noisy and destructive I am kind of sorry we got her. When she is all sweet and lovey-dovey I realize I love the hell out of her and couldn’t imagine life without her. I suppose it’s like that for those with kids… you have your moments of joy and pride, then you have your moments where you ask yourself why the hell you ever bothered when you could have kept your life, kept your money, and kept your sanity.

My weight is sort of teetering like it can’t make up its mind whether to go down or stay where it’s at, though it is down a little bit. Tom still thinks it’ll be a very long, slow and gradual loss, but that I’ll lose a significant amount eventually. I don’t know what to think. I’m just glad I stopped gaining and that my period is late this month. I think menopause might be the only way to lose weight if I ever did get really serious about that. With periods I have water/hunger cycles that just keep replacing the same few pounds each month.

Sure had the runs earlier, though I’m not sure why. I haven’t had any lung or heart issues today, and while the runs and a lower appetite can be caused by my medication, there’s still no way my dose could be too high. I think I might have overdone the dairy is all.

Another thing I had was what I thought was that ovary pain. This was last night. Now I’m not sure what that pain could be. It was in the very lower right side of my stomach, and I had to take and ibuprofen. Tom thinks it’s gas. Well, I sure hope it’s that or maybe a pulled muscle from when I was working my abs.

Just in case there is any kind of an evil god out there, I thought I ought to start standing up to it. So I woke up today and as soon as I became aware, I could feel that pain. I said, “Look, I don’t know if you exist and I don’t know if you’re picking on me if you do. But just in case, I’m not going to take any shit from you, so just back off. You’re never going to beat us over the head with money again, and I’m not going to let you make me suffer either.”

Coincidentally or not, the pain stopped.

My water/gel chair cushion arrived yesterday and is super comfortable. There’s a powdery gel inside the plastic sack, which is much like a waterbed sack that I threw inside an old pillowcase. You fill it up with water. We didn’t quite get all the air out of it, though, because it “farts” when I move around on it.

Tom thought it was pretty clever of me to look this up on Amazon. Well, I realized that if this can be comfortable for people stuck in wheelchairs all the time, then this would certainly be good for someone who's sitting about half of the time.

[princehrry-writings]

I posted 11 times in 2022

8 posts created (73%)

3 posts reblogged (27%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@fanfictionisalifestyle

@just-my-type-x

@princehrry-writings

I tagged 11 of my posts in 2022

#colby brock x reader - 3 posts

#harry styles - 3 posts

#colby brock - 3 posts

#sam and colby - 3 posts

#skye answers - 2 posts

#xplr - 2 posts

#harry styles x reader - 2 posts

#skye rants - 2 posts

#lizzy mcalpine song fic - 1 post

#when the world stopped moving - 1 post

Longest Tag: 43 characters

#it’s colby’s hand around nate’s neck for me

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

feeling very blocked at the moment and would love to hear some requests!!! let me know what you want to see!!!

2 notes - Posted June 17, 2022

#4

happy valentine’s day miss skye 🫂💌

omg thank you🥺🥺🥺 happy valentines days!!!!!!!!!!!!

3 notes - Posted February 14, 2022

#3

guys im in my colby brock era rn... so you're probably gonna see some stuff for him from me :) i'm working on a piece for him rn!!

19 notes - Posted November 11, 2022

#2

Let Light Be Light

i've been on a lizzy kick and also experiencing college for the first time so this is what came of that.

warnings: BRIEF mentions of a serial k*ller, slight angst, fluff!!!!! mentions of family trauma

wordcount: 1894

masterlist

But my therapist says To just let light be light So I'm letting him stay around

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I’m alone almost every night and I don't know if I’m processing right.

The days grew shorter and the nights colder. Y/n spent most of her time studying, trying to stay on top of her school work. Fall semester was in full swing and while she was sad to be away from home, she was happy to be allowed to think her own thoughts and feel her own feelings instead of everyone else’s. It was a breath of fresh air she didn’t know she needed until she took it. 

Another late night at the library, nailing down her answers for her music theory midterm. She found that she loved the smell of old books and dust. Something about it made her feel so studious. She thinks it must be some kind of placebo effect or something because anytime she studies in the library, she feels like the information sticks better. 

Her friends had invited her to a study session but she's never been able to focus in group settings like that. She had to figure shit out on her own growing up and that's been a running theme with everything she does in her young adult life. She does shit by herself. She’s never had anyone to lean on before so why would she start now? 

That’s not to say Y/n doesn’t appreciate her friends because she does, but if something isn’t broken, no need to take it apart and put it back together. 

It’s nearing closing time at the library, meaning it’s closer to midnight then she realized it was. It’s dark out and she forgot her pepper spray in her room, but her dorm isn’t too far away from the library. A 10 minute walk when she’s really moving, so she packs up and gets ready to head out when a voice stops her. 

“Wait, you’re not gonna walk alone are you?” She turns around to see this boy, who she recognized from a few classes and he worked here, standing at the counter, lookin at her like she's about to jump off a cliff. He seems cute enough, more than she would ever admit to herself, really. He’s tall, long legs and arms, built muscles. His hair falls right above his ears and is curly, but not too curly. It’s very flowy from what she assumes is him running his fingers through it all day to keep it out of his face, and it looks really soft.

“Yeah…?” She says, wondering why he’s so concerned for her. She’ll be ok, it’s not a bad walk. 

“It’s not safe… haven’t you seen the news? There’s a suspect for a murder case running loose on this side of town. His targets are college age girls. Let me walk you home?” His accent makes her a lot less annoyed than she normally would be by somebody telling her she can’t take care of herself. 

“How do I know you're not him?” She quips, hoping he’ll give up so she can just go home. Well, as home as a dorm room can be. 

He raises an eyebrow, making him more attractive than she thought a random boy in the library could ever be, chuckling a little bit and picking up his bag. She notices that everyone else is already gone and it’s just the two of them, and wishes just for a second that she didn’t listen to true crime podcasts because she’s a little scared he could actually be the murderer he just warned her about. But when he comes over and she gets a good look at him, she just can’t see him being a murderer. She couldn’t really see him hurting a fly if she had to be honest. 

He grabs his bag and a ring of keys off the desk and pads over to where she stands. 

“M’ Harry, by the way. Figure you should know my name before I kill you behind the library.” He smirks. Oh, so he’s funny too. Now Y/n really has to put up a wall. Funny guys are dangerous. 

“I’m Y/n. Figure you should know the name of your latest victim.” She smirks back, matching energy but mentally she detaches herself because she can’t let herself form any sort of attachment to him. 

“What hall are you in?” He asks, leading her to the front door and turning off the lights, locking the door behind them. 

“It’s only like a 10 minute walk from here. I live in Greeley.” She answers quickly, shoving her hands deep into her pockets. Fall nights can be brutal but there's something that endears her to them. Something about the promise of the seasons changing, new beginnings, a fresh start. A cycle you can always count on. If nothing else, you always know that summer will turn to fall, and fall to winter, and so on. 

They walk quickly, making small talk and learning little things about each other. Like Harry is in three out of 7 of her classes. He talks to her like they’ve been friends forever and she can’t figure out why he’s being so nice to her. Can’t figure out what he wants, not that she really has much to give in the first place. 

 Too soon do they arrive at the front door of her dorm building. He says goodbye with a charming smile that she has to consciously not blush at and she makes her way upstairs. 

The butterflies win anyway, flooding her with a warmth she swore she would never feel again. She just met him today. What is she doing with herself? 

Is this what it’s supposed to feel like?

Suddenly, Y/n sees Harry everywhere. She knows it's crazy to think he’s following her, but that’s what her brain tells her because why would she be seeing him everywhere all of the sudden. She definitely doesn’t think it’s because he’s all she's been able to think about since he walked her home from the library. 

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54 notes - Posted November 4, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I Feel Like A Hero and You're My Heroine

i'm back on my sam and colby shit after like 200 years

warnings: alcohol consumption, kissing, party, hella fucking fluff bro like omg

wordcount: 1093

masterlist

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You had no idea how you ended up at this party. One moment you and your friends were having a girls night, getting tipsy and talking shit. The next moment, you're in an uber on your way to a house party. 

When you pull up you still have no idea whose house this is, you’re just along for the ride. The music is loud and there's people everywhere, dancing, drinking. People out back are smoking, sitting around a fire. 

You make your way through the crowd, finding the kitchen and deciding to make yourself another drink. 

“Welcome ladies! My name is Colby, I’m one of the hosts. If you need anything or have any questions, I’m your man!” 

You look behind you and see the guy who was talking to you and your friends. You were shocked, of course you knew who he was and you knew that your friends ran in the same circles as them but you never thought you would ever meet him or anyone doing what he was doing. After his little introduction, his eyes zeroed in on you, an almost imperceptible smirk appearing on his face. 

“Hi!” He smiled, walking closer to you. You’re already tipsy so that makes it even easier to talk to him and flirt like you want to. 

“Hey, thanks for the warm welcome!” You smile back, opening yourself up for him to invade your space. He got close but not too close. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable but to you he couldn't be close enough. You felt a pull to him, like something had just clicked into place. 

Maybe you're more drunk than you thought. 

Colby smiled at the little giggles you were letting out, stepping closer when you draped your arm over his own, almost pulling him into you. Your friends were all standing around, watching the interaction and smirking, knowing a sober you would never be this forward. 

“I’m Y/n by the way.” You smile up at him, putting on your best game. 

“Nice to meet you Y/n.” 

You two are glued to each other for the rest of the night, talking and laughing, getting progressively more drunk. You’re having the time of your life, the most fun you think you’ve ever had actually. Colby understood you in a way no one ever had before. The way he listened to your words, as slurred as they were at the moment, and the way he stared into your eyes as you spoke made you feel like you were the only girl in the world. 

“I FUCKING LOVE THIS SONG!” You yelled out as Hero/Heroine by Boys Like Girls came on. It brought you back to your emo phase that you never really grew out of, you just learned how to style yourself better. 

“YOU KNOW THIS SONG?” Colby yelled back at you, eyes wide, grime spread across his face. 

“YEAH I FUCKING KNOW THIS SONG!” You jumped up off the couch where you had been sitting with Colby, grabbing his hand and dragging him up with you. You started jumping around and dancing, screaming the lyrics, and not giving a fuck who looked at you weird. Colby didn’t look at you weird. 

That’s all that mattered. 

He danced with you, pulling you closer to him. 

“You caught me off guard, now I’m running and screaming. I feel like a hero and you're my heroine, do you know that your love is the sweetest sin.” You both yelled together. 

Without thinking, Colby leaned in, pressing his lips to yours. You reacted before you knew what you were doing, pulling him closer to you. The kiss was needy, like he’d been waiting all night for this. His hands roamed your body, pressing you flat against his. Your arms wrapped around his neck, one hand threading through his hair, the other lightly cupping his cheek. 

By the time he pulled away, you were both gasping for breath. 

“Holy shit.” You whispered, opening your eyes and staring straight into Colby’s. 

“I might be really drunk but I think I just fell in love with you…” He whispers back to you. You can’t tell if the blush on his cheeks is the alcohol or the dancing or if he's embarrassed but you find yourself leaning back into him. 

See the full post

110 notes - Posted November 11, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[vanillann]

unsolved (spencer reid x reader)

a/n: i was watching buzzfeed unsolved when i came up with this idea so enjoy. also i know it’s not exactly right but i didn’t feel like going back and watching the ep so.

warning: swearing, talk of cases, and sexual innuendos

word count: 3.3k

“Hi, Welcome to Buzzfeed Unsolved! We’re your host Ryan and Shane.”

I sat in a spin by chair between the two, my legs crisscrossed as I spun as fast as I could with Shane picking at arm.

“This is (Y/N)-“ when I heard my name I dramatically grabbed Ryan’s arm chair, smiling at the camera “a good friend of ours.”

“I had never spoken to either of them before today,” I spoke directly into the camera, the widest smile on my face when Shane gasped.

“She exposed us!” He pointed an accusing finger at me, Ryan slowly reaching out and grabbing his hand.

“We need her for this case,” Ryan spoke mysteriously, as if he was in a mob of some sort.

“Yeah why is that?” I rested my elbow on the chair, placing my chin in my open hand as I looked between the two.

I would normally be shoved in the corner of my desk trying to avoid another weird product video. I didn’t want to wear another weight blanket that made me almost fall to the floor.

“We are doing a case today and from the gossip around the office, you’d be pretty familiar with it,” Ryan said nothing more as he held a picture up to the camera.

I looked to the viewfinder, my eyes going wide as I recognized the mugshot immediately.

“That’s the Reaper!” I pointed at the picture, grabbing Ryan’s wrist so I could get a better look.

“Is that your boyfriend or something?” Shane added, looking over my shoulder at the picture in my hand.

“No, the BAU worked in this case!”

I didn’t know my intense knowledge of BAU cases would make it around the office, but I suppose when you have a printed article of you standing with Agent Gideon and Hotchner word moves fast.

“You actually know a lot about BAU cases from what I hear,” Ryan almost smirked at me and I was close to attacking him.

“Yeah-“ I turned to the camera, thinking I should explain myself before people thought I was crazy “so when I was young my mother had a stalker.”

The room suddenly went from light and breezy to scary and stuffy, something I hated.

“Anyways, when my mother died he disappeared into thin air. I then got an internship here at Buzzfeed and suddenly I was being mailed pictures of myself.”

I felt Shane give a knee a quick squeeze, which made me smile but I said nothing about it.

“It is really bad, I’m not going into detail, that the FBI got involved. Gideon was my savior that day, Hotchner too. Since then I’ve kept up with their cases and Gideon still sends me letters even after he left,” I finished my story, smiling down at the case file Ryan held between his fingers.

“Enough sad story, let’s talk about murder!” I clapped my hand, Shane laughing at my excitement.

“Okay, before we get started with this video I would like to clarify this isn’t a normal unsolved case. While the case was pinned to a murderer, the real unsolved piece is what happened to him,” Ryan got into character, slowly opening the folder and reading off the first words.

“On June 5th, 1996, Tom Shaunessy was called to investigate a murder in Boston. It was a couple, laided into their chair with multiple gun shots to their head and torso-“

“Wait, in the car in Boston?” Shane asked.

“That’s what I just read,” Ryan replied.

I smiled to myself, already knowing the editing that would take place with the black screen and the blue and yellow words floating across.

“Isn't Boston super busy?”

“It has like 700 thousand people,” I spoke up, wondering what color my words would be in.

“How do you just know that?” Ryan looked over his shoulder at me, his eyebrows raised.

“If you saw the article I was currently writing you would understand,” I shrugged, moving in the chair so I could get a better look at the case file.

Ryan coughed, looking back down at the file to continue.

“When another set of murders came in, this time an older couple, Shaunessy, panicked as he found the first victim, Harry Goodwill, watching at the scene.”

“That was his signature,” I held a hand up like a child in class, smiling as I already knew what came next.

“Bingo!” Ryan pointed to me, smiling at my excitement.

“When this happened again, this time alone woman, Shaunessy called in the BAU-“

“You mean the love of (Y/N) life,” Shane cut in, smiling when I hit his shoulder.

“If you saw a picture of them you’d be in love too,” I shrugged, not thinking much about my words.

“Agent Aaron Hotchner joined the team and worked closely on this case with Shaunessy.”

“So this man just texted the FBI,” Shane started laughing before he could get his words out.

“I’m pretty sure there are rules,” Ryan looked over at Shane, looking at me when we tried to understand why he was laughing.

“I’m sorry, death shouldn’t be this funny,” Shane took a breath, making a hand motion for Ryan to continue. I started laughing at that, keeping it low so Ryan could continue.

“After 18 murders, there were no leads. The only consistent thing was he mostly killed couples and he left an item from his last victim at the crime scene. The BAU conducted that he was most likely killing the couple because of his own failed marriage or possibly one close to him.”

“So he started killing because he hated to love? I bet he hates Valentine’s Day,” Shane shrugged, his smile breaking across his face when I spoke up.

“Nah, he seems more like a Halloween type guy,” I shrugged, laughing when Ryan hit his elbow on the table.

“Okay okay, back to the good stuff,” I pointed at the file, laughing when Ryan rolled his eyes.

“Now victims 19 and 20 is where the story starts to twist. Amanda Bertram and George Foyet-“ I shivered at the name “we attacked by the Reaper.”

“Did you say attacked?”

“Yes, while Amanda Bertram was killed in the struggle Foyet manages to survive with serious injuries.”

“So this dude just accidentally forgets to kill him?” Shane almost yelled, reaching for the file to read himself but Ryan moved it back.

“He saw the ghost of Valentine and just ran,” I played on the joke earlier, which made the two laugh.

“The heart-shaped boxes of chocolate really made him shit himself,” Ryan barely got the words out, his laugh slowly turning into a cough.

“We shouldn’t joke about a murderer when we don’t know his whereabouts,” I laughed along.

“Wait, you’re telling me they lost him!”

“Yep,” I popped the “p”, smiling when Shane looked to Ryan who only shrugged,

“You’ll have to wait and see.” Was all he said before he continued the case.

“After this no new leads were found, it was later discovered that The Boston Reaper sent Shaunessy a note that if the investigation was shut now he would stop killing,” Ryan read the words off.

“I bet he ended the letter with “xoxo from your worst nightmare” with a lipstick stain,” I spoke without thinking, covering my mouth when I realized what I said.

“Oh he’d definitely come at you now,” Shane pointed at me, wiggling his eyebrows in the process.

“No way! The BAU will save me,” I shrugged, smiling as I imagined the team busting in the door at the last minute like they always did.

“Oh yeah the one dude, what’s his name,” Ryan started snapping his fingers as he thought over his words “Sp-“

“Spencer Reid!” I practically yelled the name, my smile only growing large at the mention of the handsome Doctor from the BAU team. While he didn’t work my case, I heard a little about him and he called my house phone trying to reach Hotch.

To say I was infatuated would be a small understatement.

“Him?” Ryan pointed at him, smiling wider at me.

“Who is this Reid boy and what are his intentions?” Shane folded his arms on the table like a father, looking between Ryan and I.

“I hope it's dirty,” I blurted out, covering my mouth again as I looked at the camera.

“Cut that out,” I started laughing when I heard Shane wheezing beside me.

“No we’re keeping that, that was quality content,” Ryan was laughing, pushing my chair slightly as I slowly joined in.

“I’m so grateful he works a busy job and will never see this,” I started coughing, which made Shane pat my back.

“Please take the obsession back to murder, please and thank you,” I nodded to the case file once everyone has calmed down.

“Okay okay, the cast went cold after that. No new murders ever appeared and the BAU left the case.”

“Spencer went to (Y/N)’s house,” Shane commented quickly.

“Until 2009 when a murder took place right outside of Boston, a couple killed on a hill. While this seemed like nothing at first, an eye was painted on the side of the door and glasses were found on the victim’s face. The glasses belong to Foyet,” Ryan read in his special voice.

“So the dude got bored and was like “Fuck my promise”?” Shane looked between both of us.

“Let him finish,” I patted Shane shoulder, looking at the file again.

“It was later announced to the public that Shaunessy was dead,” Ryan read, looking at Shane with raised eyebrows.

“Ohh, you should have led with that!”

Ryan rolled his eyes, going back to the file in front of him.

“Hotchner took up the case with his BAU team-”

“Spencer had to leave (Y/N)’s house early to get there in time,' ' Shane pushed my shoulder, my finger slowly starting to play with the little ring on my finger.

“I wish,” I spoke up, smiling at Shane when he shook his head.

“The team quickly gathered all the information possible, slowly putting the eye signature on the car with the sign off on the letter.”

“He didn’t sign it xoxo?” Shane asked, I shook my head sadly.

“Sorry to get your hopes up,” I spoke gravely, my mask cracking when Shane started smiling.

“I was readying for him to sign A like that show!”

I started laughing, my hand covering my mouth as Ryan tried to explain the show he was talking about.

“Why do they have to be pretty liars, am I pretty when I lie?”

“No,” I said the words so seriously I was shocked with myself. We all three started laughing suddenly.

I hadn’t been at Buzzfeed long, I had only made a few friends and I pretty much got dragged into the video when they needed a test dummy. This was my first video that didn’t make me want to rip my eyes out, I actually was having a great time with Ryan and Shane with the jokes and all.

“Okay,” Ryan coughed, finally reading the file again,” Many tried to brush it off as a copycat but Agent Hotchner refused to drop the case.”

“That’s my bestie,” I smiled, remembering the photo I had with him when the local news decided to take pictures of us standing outside the station. The photo was awkward and I doubt he even remembered my case but I didn’t really care.

“Then a few hours later an older couple, Arthur and Diane Lanessa, were found stabbed and shot. When the earlier victim, Nina Hale, was found on Diane's wrist, people started to worry.”

“Wait I thought he left the one dude glasses, who is still weird to me,” Shane spoke up again.

“That’s what I’m saying! He had his glasses yet he’s a copycat? Cops can be so stupid,” I rambled, still pissed about that to this day.

“The BAU split up to find Foyet, who went into hiding after his attack, to get more details. Agent Hotchner and Agent David Rossi found him staying in a house in Boston.”

“Why would you stay in Boston?” Ryan was the one to speak this time, his nose scrunched up as he thought it over.

“Right, like yes I almost died here let me stay,” Shane mocked Foyet, which made me laugh.

“Later that night The Reaper boarded a busy bus and killed the occupants of it. Many had theories on why he changed his MO but nobody will confirm or deny.”

“I think he was made at Hotch,” I spoke up. I had thought about this alot.

“Why do you think that?”

“He didn’t quite like Shaunessy, I don’t blame Shaunessy, but still. He stuck around even when he could have walked away,” I crossed my arms, slightly proud of my theory.

“You think he gave the same deal?”

“You don’t?” I looked at Ryan, his arms shrugging before he went back to the case.

“There was a cryptic message left on the side the bus along with the Reaper eye,”

“Cryptic message? Is this real?”

“Unfortunately,” I nodded, looking back to Ryan as he spoke.

“The BAU managed to decipher the code into a line of Foyet addresses-”

“Spender did it!”

“And how would you know?” Shane looked to me, raising his eyebrow at me with a little smirk.

“Because he had an eidetic memory and has an IQ of 187,” I spoke proudly, as if I actually knew the person I was talking about. Okay maybe I searched them on the internet one too many times.

“How do you know that?” Ryan asked, laughing at me now.

“Google,” I shrugged, laughing when Shane looked up from his hands.

“What does he even look like?” I held up my finger, fishing my phone out of my back pocket. I quickly unlocked it, placing my thumb print and moving on, and tapped the searched bar. I quickly typed in his name, thankful it didn’t pop up in purple because I couldn’t handle that much teasing.

“Here,” I placed the phone on the table, laughing when Shane moved closer.

“He has a Wikipedia,” Shane looked over his shoulder at Ryan and I, speaking like a kid on Christmas.

“You both have Wikipedia,” I shrugged, not seeing the appeal of the whole life on display.

“You don’t,” Shane pointed out. I jokily pouted, acting all sad as I looked up to the ceiling.

“We can make you one,” Ryan patted my shoulder laughing when I smiled.

“Can we say I’m married to Doctor Spencer Reid?”

Both nodded at the same time, my hand going over my hand and I laugh at their telekinesis response.

“Okay finished this case so (Y/N) and I can stalk Mr. Reid,” Shane patted Ryan shoulder and I lightly smiled to myself.

He seemed like nothing but I finally made some friends, I mean friends I could talk to outside of work.

“Once they arrived at Foyet house they found gallons of blood pulled from the back of the house.”

“So they killed him?”

“Just wait,” I held my finger up, smiling when Shane deflated slightly.

“Multiple police were attacked, even Derek Morgan with the BAU. The specific are not out to the public but a nurse claimed that The Reaper stole Morgan credentials,” Ryan read off the paper, smiling when Shane gasped.

“That’s insane, this case is insane!”

I laughed along with Ryan, all of ours eye scanning over the paper now and we waited for the next bit of information.

“After looking over past cases filed, the BAU were confused on why The Reaper would kill Foyet. Their tech analysis did research to induce that Foyet had multiple aliases, claimed he had them to feel safe from The Reaper, actually had multiple assault charges, and his parents were killed when he was six.”

“Oh my, he killed them didn’t he!” Ryan and I both nodded, Shane’s hands flying up to his hair as he looked between us.

“It was him the whole time! No way!”

“That’s what I said,'' I looked into the camera for the first time in awhile, it felt nice and easy with them. The video was coming easy unlike trying to do awkward yoga poses with strangers.

“They managed to trace everything back to Foyet, concluding he was The Reaper. After more research, Foyet’s phone was tracked to Roy Colson's house. A journalist would recently wrote an article on The Reaper.``

“This feels like a Scooby-Doo mission at this point,” Shane sounded out of breath, looking to the camera with wide eyes.

“We got some work to do now!” I jokily sang the theme song, making the two laugh lightly before moving on to the end of the case.

“The local police arrest Foyet at the house, Colson thankful survived. Foyet was taken to prison immediately after arrest.”

“I thought they lost him?”

“If you don’t let him finish,” I joked, Shane laughed as we finally let Ryan finish.

“Foyet was found in his cell later throwing up blood and convulsions. As being rushed to the hospital, the ambulance was ambushed and Foyet escaped. No more information has been released on the whereabouts of Foyet.”

“They really lost him!”

Shane was in shock at the discovery, my hand covering my mouth quickly before I answered.

“I bet he’s working for the FBI, they hire people when they’re too dangerous.” I tried my best to be serious about the theory but I knew my smile was peaking thought.

“He’s probably the BAU’s personal hitman!”

I laughed with Ryan, my chair had slowly moved closer to his as I kept leaning to see the case file.

“Where do you think Foyet it?”Ryan spoke into the camera, talking to the people that would watch this in a few weeks.

“I think (Y/N) should call her smarty-pants husband and ask,” Shane spit out his last joke before the video ended.

“Yeah, Doctor Spencer Reid please call me with information about the case.” I pointed into the camera like Uncle Sam and winked dramatically.

“He doesn’t have your number,” Ryan reminded me. I let my finger fall, thinking over my words before I pointed back at the camera.

“Email my business email,” I nodded. Shane and Ryan both hit my shoulder. both hands going to my arm to cover them.

“Say bye to our favorite guest ever,” Ryan waved in my face.

“Bye!”

I laughed as the video played on my laptop, laughing when my voice was replaced with light green words floating on the screen. I scrolled down lightly, reading a bunch of comments. I smiled when most were asking if I would ever be on another Unsolved.

My phone went off beside me, my hand reaching for it as I paused the video and moved to my email. I was waiting for an email about an article I was writing and I couldn’t stop hitting refresh.

Shane: i’ve seen two ship edits of (y/n) and spencer reid on my instagram already

Ryan: i saw an edit of shane fall out a chair

I laughed at the messages, the group chat the three of us had formed titled “The Reapers Bitches” never stopped as we had grown a close bond.

I heard the little ding from my laptop, also most screaming when I slammed the refresh button and screamed when I saw an email with a little unread dot beside it.

I didn’t think twice, pushing the email and reading over it quickly.

From: reidemail@gmail.com

Hello, this is Doctor Spencer Reid with the Behavioral Analysis Unit. I recently saw a video of you mentioning me and my team about a case we worked on a few years back. While I legally can’t share any details with you in this case, I would be open to speaking with others. Please email me back!

I was going to scream, maybe cry, maybe both at this point. I read the email two or three more times, trying to comprehend what I just read.

He did see, shit he did see it. I heard my phone going off beside me, my hand picking it up and typing without reading what they were saying before.

Me: Spencer Fucking Reid just emailed me

I let my phone fall to my lap, reading the email one more time.

“Thank you Buzzfeed Unsolved,” I whispered under my breath.

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[outoftowninac]

ALL SOULS’ EVE

1920

All Souls’ Eve is a play of the supernatural by Anne Crawford Flexner. It was originally produced by John D. Williams, staged by Homer Saint-Gaudens  starring Lola Fisher in the dual role of Alison and Norah. 

The play is set in Jim Heath's Study, the Nursery, the Lanai of Jim's home on Mt. Tantalus outside Honolulu, on all Soul's Eve

Norah O’Donnell is a young girl living in Ireland. She believes that on All Souls' Eve the spirits of the dead return to visit those whom they loved in life. Norah sails to American to join her mother, but finds that her mother has died. Norah takes up a position as a nursemaid with the Heath family. Jim Heath and his wife Alison have one young son, Peter. Olivia Larkin is in love with Jim, and desperately jealous of Alison. When she finds that she is unable to lure him away from his wife, she convinces a madman that Alison is the one responsible for his misfortunes. The madman murders Alison, and Jim, devastated by his wife's death, neglects his work and his son, turning to drink and Olivia for solace.

On All Souls' Eve, Peter falls seriously ill. Norah tries to rouse Jim, but he is too drunk to respond. She sends for a doctor, but before he can arrive, the soul of Alison appears and, unable to save her son herself, transfers her love for him into Norah, who saves Peter's life. After this, Jim finds that Norah becomes ever more like Alison and shuns Olivia and drink as he comes to realize that he loves Norah. Olivia is pursued to her death by the madman, and Norah becomes Jim's wife and mother to Peter.

About the Title: All Souls' Day, also known as the Day of the Dead, is a day of prayer and remembrance for the faithful departed, which is observed by Roman Catholics and other Christian denominations annually on 2 November.

All Souls’ Eve premiered on April 19, 1920 in Washington DC at the Shubert-Belasco Theatre. It was a benefit for the Women’s Clubs. It then played the Grand in Wilkes-Barre PA and the Lyric in Allentown.  

All Souls’ Eve opened in Atlantic City at the Globe Theatre on the Boardwalk on April 29, 1920. From AC the play moved to the Court Square Theatre in Springfield MA. 

All Souls’ Eve opened on Broadway at Maxine Elliott’s Theatre (109 West 39th Street) on May 12, 1920.

About the Venue: Lee Shubert sold actress Maxine Elliott the land for this theatre in exchange for fifty-percent interest in it - making Elliott one of the only female managers. It was leased to the Federal Theatre in 1936. In 1941, it became a radio station and, later, a television studio. In 1956, Elliott's heirs sold her share to the Shuberts, who then sold the property. It was demolished in 1960.

“One moment a vocal wraith, swathed in misty chiffons, Miss Fisher floats about; and having wafted herself gracefully behind the screen which, the audience is told to believe, shields the couch of the sleeping nurse, she delivers Norah’s lines from that vantage point. The scene seemed to me to be handled with excessive clumsiness, although I scarcely see how it could have been done otherwise.”  ~ McELLIOTT, NY DAILY NEWS

“Its defects are verbosity and Mrs. Flexner's inability to maneuver her plot with anything approaching dexterity. Most of the dialogue is flat, devious and uninteresting. It tells the story at a snail's pace, with many delays and considerable stuttering.” ~ BROOKLYN DAILY EAGLE

The play closed at Maxine Elliott’s on June 12th after 21 performances. 

In 1921, the play was filmed starring Mary Miles Minter. Much was made of the film's use of double, triple and quadruple exposures to enable Minter to play two parts within the same scenes. It is now thought to be a lost film.

In reviewing the play, Heywood Braun said:  

“The Flexner play was financed by some of that awful ‘movie money' we have heard so much of lately and is unquestionably designed for screen use later - Furthermore, It will make a better picture than It does a play.” 

The film opened in Atlantic City at the Bijou Theatre on the Boardwalk on March 14, 1921. 

[xbunnybunz]

Chocolate Confession [Link x Reader]

Summary: You decide to repay the Legendary Hero of Hyrule with a box of chocolates, and he repays you with something else entirely.

Genre: Fluff

Date: June 19, 2014

-----

If you had learned one thing about Link after all these years of traveling with him, it was that he had an gargantuan sweet tooth.

You had paid close attention to the young man as you both strolled through Castle Town. (And it definitely was not because you liked him!) You would watch as his gaze restlessly touched over everything in sight, examining all of the wares for sale with tireless curiosity. Even though he so-eagerly drank in his surroundings, he never stopped to admire anything up close. It was almost as if nothing meant enough for the busy hero to stop him in his tracks... Well, except for one thing.

Whenever you passed by a candy shop or a vendor selling sweets, Link's cerulean eyes would sparkle like aquamarine jewels, glistening with both awe and lust for the treat. Like a child, his facial expressions would shift to convey his desires. For a split second that others would never notice, Link's breath would catch in his throat, his feet failing to move for a minuscule of time.

Although any other normal person wouldn't have been able to pick up these subtle clues, you noticed the blond's small hints and knew what Link's body language meant.

He was infatuated with sugary snacks.

However, there was a small problem with his sweet tooth; the problem being that he was a traveling hero- which meant he didn't have the time to settle down and get a job. That wasn't the only issue here. The blond hero also had to take care of you, his loyal sidekick, as well as his horse, Epona. With these two factors in mind, it was quite obvious that there were never extra rupees to spare.

In the past few months, however, you managed to snag a job at the renowned Lon Lon Ranch. You had gotten the idea to work at the ranch after you heard the townspeople of Castle Town speak about it. Epona had long run out of carrots and Link had decided that it was time to restock on his beloved horse's treats. Both of you had gone shopping in the marketplace, seeking out carrots for Epona when you overheard two men discussing how much they yearned for a bottle of fresh, ice-cold Lon Lon milk.

While Link was busy paying for the carrots, you rushed over to the men and asked them what "Lon Lon Milk" was.

They had initially laughed at you for not knowing what the famous Lon Lon milk was, but once they realized you were serious, they pulled you aside and explained to you in thorough detail about what the delicious drink was, disbelief in their eyes.

”I can’t believe you’ve never heard of Lon Lon Milk before!” One said, blinking back tears. “What a poor child!”

The other man slapped the back of his friend’s head, but looked close to crying himself. ”Aw, be quiet you idiot! You’re attracting attention!”

Apparently, the milk was a product of Lon Lon Ranch- which was famous for it's scrumptious milk and creamy butter.

Intrigued, you asked about the job opportunities there. The men simply pat you on the back and told you that if you asked Malon, the ranch-owner's friendly daughter, you would be guaranteed a job there.

The following night, while Link and Epona slept, you sneaked away to Lon Lon Ranch, using the directions the men in Castle Town had given you. Luckily for you, you had arrived right before Lon Lon Ranch closed for the night. A girl about the same age as you was huffing and puffing, working on pushing the gates closed, but once she saw you, she gave you a warm smile and asked you how she could be of assistance.

The girl, you assumed, was Malon. You were determined to get the money to repay your friend.

'Link deserves something special for everything he's done for me.' You argued in your mind, still hesitant to take the job. It would require you to sneak away from Link each night and work at the ranch, sacrificing your resting time- which was something you valued more than gold. You shook off those thoughts with a scowl. 'He's always taken care of me and helped me in all ways possible- sometimes even saving me from monsters! He deserves this, at least.'

In the most polite manner possible, you asked her if you could work here for a while. “I need certain amount of money to buy a gift for a friend.” You explained, twiddling your fingers. “I want to buy the perfect present for one of my dearest friends- one that was always there for me. That’s why I need this job, so please, could I work here?”

With that reason, Malon immediately gave you the job.

"I think that you're a wonderful friend." She praised, taking you inside the ranch. "I'm sure your friend will love the present she gets!"

"’She?’ Oh, my friend isn't a girl." You clarified, chuckling quietly.

There was a moment of brief silence after that.

Malon had slowed her footsteps and turned her head slightly, sending you a knowing, yet mischievous look over her shoulder.

"Oh? Is that so?"

You stared at her, dumbfounded, before you finally realized what she was implying. A thin layer of pink dusted your cheeks as you quickly tried to rebut her assumptions.

"W-what?" You stuttered, "Like I said, we're only friends..."

It was Malon’s turn to chuckle as she wached you falter over your words and turn a fiery scarlet color. The auburn-haired girl turned away from you, humming when the cow stables came into view.

"Ah, this is where you'll be working!" She smiled, gesturing to the sleeping cows. "Don't worry, it's not a hard job. All you have to do is milk them enough to get three buckets of milk a night- and you're done!"

You thanked her and accepted the bucket happily, glad that your job didn't require you to lift heavy boxes or shovel horse poo.

And thus, for a month and a half, you managed to creep away from the sleeping hero and his chestnut-colored horse, spending two to three hours in the ranch before returning to sleep for a couple of hours. Finally, after all your hard labor, you had saved enough money to buy Link what he yearned for this whole time- chocolates.

This morning, you were ecstatic to hear that the Hero of Time wanted to head to the marketplace to pick up his repaired shield. You had just enough money to buy the chocolates that he craved.

As he groomed Epona with gentle hands, he addressed you. "I'll be visiting Castle Town sometime in the afternoon," he said, turning to face you. "The repairmen should be done fixing my shield; I'll pick it up today. You can come with me, if you want?"

Soft blue eyes turned to take in the sight of your kneeling form, rolling up your sleeping mat with utmost care.

Your reaction was nothing short of excitement. Your head snapped up, startling the blue-eyed boy in front of you. "Yes!" You shrieked immediately, your eyes wide with delight.

A moment of silence passed between the two of you before you realized what you did, and you blushed, embarrassed.

Link sent you a questioning glance, and you felt your cheeks turn pink. "Er, I mean-" You quickly added, trying to redeem yourself, "-I mean, I'd love to go! I've been wanting to buy something there for a while now."

Link smiled at you, lips turning up into a playful grin. "That sounds great! It's always a lot more interesting when you come to Castle Town with me."

You hastily turned around and pretended to fold up your sleeping mat, hiding your reddened cheeks. "S-sure..." You stammered, feeling a bit foolish for the effects that the blond-haired, sapphire-eyed boy had on you.

It was true that you had developed a tiny amount of feelings for Link, but you tried your best to suppress them. Of course, he would never like you. You knew that in the competition for the hero's heart, you were already beat. Princess Zelda- possibly the most beautiful and talented girl you've ever encountered, had you down in the long run. What madman would pick girl like you over a princess?

You sighed quietly under your breath, folding your sleeping mat in half and strapping it onto Epona. The horse huffed out of it's nose lightly, as if it knew what you were thinking. (She was probably just protesting against carrying the extra weight, but it was a comforting thought anyway.) You pet her white muzzle, running your fingers gingerly over her mane. "Friends." You muttered under your breath, watching as the graceful horse pressed it's nose into your hands. You take a deep breath, eyes darting over to the teenage boy that stood a little ways from you. "Just friends..."

Soon after you and Link had finished strapping your sleeping gear onto Epona, you both took off to the marketplace. As both you and Link walked, there was a comfortable silence between the two of you. You chuckled, remembering how awkward you were around the hero the first time you traveled with him. Blue eyes met yours, and you offered a lopsided smile. "What were you laughing about?" Link asked, sending you a curious look. You looked up at the sky, tilting your head slightly to catch a breeze. "Nothing, just some old memories." He didn't get a chance to ask what they were about, because you had already arrived at the drawbridge to Castle Town.

Soldiers greeted the both of you as you walked in, you nodded at them before closing your eyes, soaking in the sounds of civilization and life. Traveling with Link often meant being secluded from other folk, and although you loved his company, it got lonely quite quickly.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when Link began to speak to you. "We'll meet up in Central Plaza after we've both found what we want, alright? If you need anything, I'll be in the Gear Shop right next to the Hyrule bakery." You nodded, your eyes already glued to the fancy store across from the Gear Shop. Even from where you were standing, you could already see the sweets inside of the store, beckoning you to go in.

As soon as Link departed, you hightailed to the shop, admiring the treats through the window first. The shop put it's best chocolate on display. A variety of chocolates laid in front of your shining eyes, tempting you to hurry up and buy them. The display of dark chocolate swirls, caramel drops and pure white chocolate made your mouth water- you were standing there for so long that people were beginning to give you funny looks, so you decided to walk inside the shop.

No words could describe the smells that had wafted over your olfactory senses as you stepped into the store. For a second, you felt as if you had gone to heaven and back; because it seemed humanely impossible for smells so wondrous to be on Earth.

"Hello?" You heard a voice call, and suddenly, you noticed that there was a hand waving in front of your eyes. "Darling, are you quite alright?" You looked to see the owner of the arm, a woman that was dressed affluently and twice your age stood in front of you, looking worried.

"O-oh no! I'm fine!" You reassured the lady, peering at the boxes of chocolates that lined the shelves. "I'm just amazed at all the chocolate here, that's all."

The woman laughed heartily, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Oh dearie, chocolate seems to be a gift from the gods above, doesn't it? Everything about it seems perfect!" She gestured to the merchandise around her, adding in a hushed voice, "Sometimes I think I love this place more than my husband- don't tell him that, though! Ohoho!"

You diverted your eyes and peered behind the counter, seeing a burly man twirling his mustache, analyzing the boxes of chocolate across from him- that, you concluded, was probably this woman's husband.

"Anyway, dear, was there anything you needed?" The woman asked. You scratched the back of your neck, offering a nervous smile. "Yes, I came to buy this specific box of chocolates. I've had my eyes on it for quite a while now, and I'd really appreciate it if I could buy those."

You still remembered the box that Link had eyed a couple of times while you passed by this shop, it used to be in the window display, but now, alarmingly, it was gone. The top of the box was transparent and allowed you to see the contents lining the inside. You remembered the features of all the alluring chocolates, there were even carvings on the chocolate! Each tiny swirl and flower engraved in the thick, creamy treat looked as if a professional carver had worked their magic on it.

"Oh, that would be no problem! Pray tell, how did the box look like?" The woman asked, clapping her hands once in enthusiasm.

"The cover of the box was transparent, and the chocolates inside looked like they were created by a woodcarver." You recalled, placing a finger on your chin. "There were also multiple colors- it was very pretty."

The woman seemed to be in deep thought for a second, thinking about the description you had given her. You heard her mutter a couple words under her breath before she suddenly sprung into a frenzy. "Oh no!" She cried, hands flying to her face dramatically, "I do, indeed, think we sold that box of chocolates last week!" Your eyebrows furrowed, and you felt a twinge in your heart. Link really seemed to like those chocolates... And you had worked so hard to get them, too.

Suddenly, a gruff voice is heard from the counter. "Millie, I think we have one of 'em boxes left in the back."

Both you and the woman look up at the man behind the counter, still twirling his mustache. He jabbed a thumb in the direction of the storage room, and your face filled with surprise; the woman's full of glee.

"Oh, sweetie! I knew that I was right to marry you! You're even sweeter than one-hundred chocolates combined! I knew I could rely on you to be organized with the merchandise!" As the woman bounced her way to the storage room, she leaned over and pecked the mustached man on the cheek, and look of satisfaction washed over his features, chuckling. "Right back at ya Millie."

In moments, the box of chocolate you had seen Link admire so many times was placed in front of you on the counter. The man told you the price, and as you were basically emptying out all your life savings onto the table, he gave you a sly look and questioned "Would the person you're giving this to like this wrapped?"

You were about to answer when Millie interrupted you, a shocked expression on her face. "These expensive chocolates are for someone else?" She began fanning herself, as if it were the most incredulous thing she's ever heard. "Tell me it is not so! Look at you, all your rupees have gone into this box of chocolates- and it is not even for you? Give me the joy to hear that it is your most precious receiving this gift!"

Your face reddens, and you can only look down at the shining marble floors, unable to find words to speak. For your "most precious?" Well... You wouldn't go that far, right?

The man behind the counter sighed, "Ay, Millie, it must be. Look at her face!" He turned to you, and small smile on his lips. "Tell you what, I'll wrap this for you for free- just to make up for all the drama we put you through."

You nodded meekly, your face still burning red.

It didn't take long for the man to finish wrapping the box. When you saw the material they had used to enclose the box, you almost cried.

"This is silk!" You said in awe, feeling the expensive fabric under your fingertips. You traced the golden-hued ribbon with wonder. "...I cannot thank you enough!"

The couple only smiled at you and thanked you for your purchase, urging you to run along and give your present to your lucky "friend."

You carefully placed the beautifully wrapped present in your bag and decided that you'd give the chocolates to Link sometime later, since he would probably be busy checking out his shield after you met up with him.

You spotted the golden-haired boy immediately after leaving the chocolate shop. Calling his name and waving to get his attention, you both reunited and made your way back to Epona, who was waiting for you both in the middle of Hyrule Field.

You stopped walking as soon as Epona came into sight, coughing lightly to get Link's attention. His cerulean eyes turned to you, a pinch of concern shining through. "Is there something wrong, ______?"

You diverted your eyes and slowly pulled out the present, holding it out to him.

"T-this is a thank-you-present for looking after me all the time..."

You watched his reactions out of the corner of your eyes, seeing his face go through an array of emotions. First, he seemed stunned, then puzzled, then finally, grateful.

You turned your head toward Link, lips trembling slightly from the oddness of the situation. His eyes locked with yours, something you've never seen before brewing in his blue orbs. "_-_______... You shouldn't have..." Link muttered, pressing the package closer to his chest. "Where did you get the rupees to afford this?"

You bit back a shiver upon seeing his expression, a blush threatening to spill crimson all over your face. "Well, it doesn't matter as long as you like it!" You choked out, quite rattled at the situation. The words came out a bit sharper than you had intended, but Link didn't seem to take them to heart.

The Hero of Time gave you a gracious smile before carefully pulling at the golden ribbon, admiring the silk fabric.

“Wow…” He whispered in awe, eyes darting up to your ever-reddening face. “This is amazing.” You gulped, trying to steady your heartbeat.

Once he had finally unwrapped the gift, a soft look of surprise touched upon his handsome features, his eyebrows arching up in disbelief and the corners of his mouth pulling northward. You watched as he blinked several times, just to make sure he was not being deceived. His eyes took in every elaborate detail on the chocolates through the clear texture on the front of the box in amazement.

Once you decided that he liked the chocolates, you looked away, your face feeling like it was lit aflame.

"_______... How did you...?" Link spoke your name like it was a sacred prayer. You could feel his eyes back on you, however, you refused to meet his gaze.

"I saw you admiring them in Castle Town," you tried to explain, the temperature on your cheeks increasing steadily. "...And I thought that maybe you'd like them."

You decided to sneak a glance at Link; and you regretted doing so immediately. His eyes were so full of admiration and love that you felt as if you would faint if you looked into them for a second longer. In a flash, he held you in a tight embrace, pressing his body flush against yours.

"I love it, _____. Thank you so much."

You could barely react to his sudden act of affection, and although you wanted this embarrassment to end, you never wanted Link to let you out of his loving grasp. Gingerly, you wrapped your arms around his torso, returning the hug gently.

It seemed like only seconds had passed before he pulled away suddenly, leaving you feeling vacant and also a little neglected. As soon as you saw him open the box of chocolates, however, you watched him with renewed interest.

Link observed every piece of chocolate in the box, appreciating the time and effort put into each individual candy. After what felt like an eternity, he picked up a chocolate in the shape of a rose, small flecks of bright red dotting the edges. You watched keenly as his slender fingers turned the chocolate over, taking in all the details on the petals; before raising it up to his barely parted, slightly chapped lips, enveloping half of the sweet in his mouth...

Your head snapped to the side violently, a dark blush igniting in your cheeks. That was so... Hot... You suppressed a shudder, reminding yourself to contain your thoughts.

While you were battling with your inner turmoil, you had not noticed Link's sneaky expression as he glanced at you. Unknown to you, Link had seen your reaction to him eating the chocolate, and soon, an idea formed in his mind.

Of course, he had an itching feeling that you had liked him before, but he had never acted out on it because he was unsure. Now, however, it was quite obvious that you had more than just a little "thing" for him- and you'd be thrilled to find out that the feeling was mutual.

With that in mind, he purred your name, not unlike a way a cat would, and you clenched your jaw, trying not to look at him. "W-what?" You asked, peering out of the corner of your eye when you didn't receive an answer.

Your eyes widened slightly when you realized that Link was sauntering closer to you, and you attempted to gain space immediately. "Uhm, Link, what are you-Woah-!" You fell backward, landing on your backside rather painfully.

‘Way to go.’ You thought, swallowing thickly as you looked up at Link. Aquamarine eyes watched your every movement and didn't miss a beat. Without hesitation, Link kneeled between your splayed legs, placing his unoccupied hand on the floor beside you. The blond leaned in close, his eyes holding an emotion that almost looked like untamed hunger.

You were too stunned to speak, feeling his hot breath cascade over your lips.

"Why don’t you try some?" He asked, his voice low and airy. He held out the half-eaten chocolate to your flushed face, watching in satisfaction as red blossomed even further down your face. "It's delicious." He smiled, his eyelids lowering seductively. “…And if it’s not, we can try the others in the box, what do you say…?” You were frozen at his words, unable to speak yourself. Instead, you took notice of how long his golden eyelashes were. You felt a gossamer touch on your own lashes, and you swore that they were touching yours.

Link leaned into your body, holding the chocolate rose against your trembling lips, tempting you to open your mouth. Your mind was dizzy with embarrassment. You could feel the chocolate pressing against your mouth, as well as the small grooves and saliva that Link had left behind when he had eaten it. The scent of the chocolate wafted up to your nose, and you felt like you were being put under a heated spell.

You were entranced as you looked into his aqua-eyes, opening your mouth just enough for him to slip the chocolate in. Link gave you a small smile, pressing the sweet into your mouth with a satisfied look.

Your taste-buds set off fireworks in your mouth. The chocolate slowly melted in your mouth, the taste of bitter dark chocolate mixed with foreign spices gave the treat a dark, but tangy flavor.

Your eyes never left Link's as you savored the chocolate, his half-lidded eyes nearly causing you to melt yourself. You were unable to suppress a shudder when he shot you a sultry look, darting his tongue out to lick his lips.

You watched, hypnotized as the hero raised his hand up to his lips, lapping at the chocolate that had melted on the tips of his fingers.

“Link…?” You whimpered, watching him with clouded eyes. You blinked as he pressed a finger to your lips, silencing you. Slowly, his hand slithered behind your head, tangling into your hair.

All the while, the blond moved closer to your face, gauging your facial expressions. You shook in anticipation, almost leaning toward him as well. When Link was finally a few centimeters away from your lips, he watched you lowered your eyelids slowly, following in suit, his eyes slipped shut as well.

Gently, he pressed his lips against yours, your mouths molding together perfectly.

After a while, he pulls back and placing his forehead on yours, looking content. "I love you, so much..." He hums, opening his eyes.

You let out a shaky sigh, still flustered, but at the same time, thankful. Your mind began to wander, wondering how a box of chocolate had resulted in this.

"I love you too, Link."

[carly-they-jepsen]

RWRB Timeline

I originally worked out the timeline for Sep. 27, 2020, and when people suggested I post it on tumblr, I said fuck it and did the whole book.

Go big or go home, right? 

I have spent the past 3 days working on this. It’s half summaries of the events of the days in order, and half “here’s a one sentence summary of the day”.

Whenever possible, I’ve detailed out when things happen by the hour, like the day at Wimbledon, or the email leak day, including guesstimations on flight times, and what time EST and BST Alex is taking off and landing. I often forgot to add vague things like “morning” in, so sorry about that.

I’ve bolded all the dates I’m sure of.

Bold and italics means an official date: emails, text threads, tweets, holidays, Georgetown, etc.

Two asterisks ** = official dates.

Just bold means a day I’m sure of, based off of official dates: Two weeks later, day one post lake house, “a tuesday”, etc.

One asterisk: * = something I’m sure of based on official dates.

I’ve also bolded days of the week I’m sure of, even if I’m not certain of the date.

I’ve left a few things vague. Like, October 2020 is a lot of “sometime between these days, this happened”. Feel free to pick a day in that range to your heart’s content.

If you don’t like the day I picked for little things like Bea walking in on face time, or coming out to June, feel free to change it.

I didn’t bold everything I’m certain on, as I technically don’t have textual evidence to back it up. (Things like the wedding day, Alex and Henry’s texts at in the beginning, some things during the campaign.)

I’m 100% willing to answer questions on why I chose certain days, and any other questions or comments you may have!

MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD

**Aug. 28, 2019 (Wed.) — Alex starts classes at Georgetown, Winter Semester 2019

Sep. 7-Sep. 8, 2019 (Sat.-Sun.) (p. 5-6) — Alex and June attend an event and listen to an hour and a half of speeches about carbon emissions. June is whisked away to a star studded gala. Alex shows up to the presidential suite with a bottle of champagne. Around 4 a.m. Alex leaves after fake hooking up with Nora.

Sep. 12, 2019 (Th.) (p. 3-8) — June and Alex go over the tabloids. Alex has been working on a research paper all week

Sep. 13, 2019 (Fri.) (p. 8-12) — The US crew flies to London. 

6 a.m. EST: Take off. 

5 p.m. BST: Land in London. (Wiggle the take off time to your heart’s content. Flight is around 6 hours give or take for Air Force 1, plus time to and from the airport, plus the time change. The flight time is “11 hours” with the time change if that helps you calculate the landing time in London.) They potentially have 1-2 appearances that evening.

Sep. 14, 2019 (Sat.) (p. 12-20) — The royal wedding. The US crew has 1-2 appearances before arriving at the ceremony. The ceremony happens. Reception happens at a Buckingham ballroom. The White House Trio chats, Henry dances with June. Alex finds Henry hovering by the champagne fountain and they argue. Alex trips over his own foot and crashes into the $75k wedding cake, pulling Henry down with him.

Sep. 16, 2019 (Mon.) (p. 21-27) — Alex gets chewed out over the Incident by Zahra and the President in a White House briefing room. He gets told he will be leaving Saturday to make nice with Henry in England.

Sometime between Mon. Sep. 16 and Fri. Sep. 20, 2019 (p. 27-32) —  Alex, Nora, and June meet in the Whitehouse and go over the HRH Prince Henry Fact Sheet. Alex bemoans the fact that he just finished his midterms.

Sep. 21, 2019 (Sat.) (p. 32-37) — Alex leaves in the early a.m. EST and arrives late afternoon/early evening in London. (11-12 hour difference in takeoff time to landing time. Note, this is just DC to Lon., not the other way round.). Meets Henry at the stable and a royal photographer takes pictures.

Sep. 22, 2019 (Sun.) (p. 37-53) — 12:00 a.m.: Alex is wide awake and goes into the kitchen for a snack. Henry stumbles in, and Alex posts a photo of them with their ice cream on Instagram.

9 a.m.: Interview with The Morning.

Afternoon meeting with cancer patients. Alex and Henry spend some time in the closet chatting after fireworks are mistaken for gunshots. Before his flight home, Alex puts his number in Henry’s phone. Likely lands around 7-8 p.m. EST.

Sep. 27, 2019 (Fri.) (p. 54-61) — Alex has a lecture on presidential sex scandals. Texts Nora about the probability of one of them having a sex scandal by the end of the second term and she replies with 94% and a link to a gifset of Henry and Alex at The Morning where someone has commented “omfg make out already”. Alex meets with Rafael Luna after his class.

Sometime between Sep. 27, 2019 (Fri.) and Oct. 6, 2019 (Sun.) (p. 61-68) — June, Alex, Leo, and Ellen have dinner together. June texts Alex to have dinner and he forgets to respond until 1.5 hours later when Ellen texts about family dinner. She offers them jobs in the campaign and June turns it down the next morning.

Oct. 9, 2019 (Wed.) (p. 68) — Henry texts Alex while Alex is in a policy lecture. His opening line is “this bloke looks like you” with a picture of the Ewok Chief Chirpa from Return of the Jedi.

Oct. 16, 2019 (Wed.) (p. 68-69) — Alex finally responds a week later after seeing a headline on the cover of People about Henry in Australia with a photo of him in a pair of minuscule navy swim trunks. “you have a lot of moles. is that a result of the inbreeding?

Oct. 18, 2019 (Fri.) (p. 69) — Henry texts Alex a screenshot of a Daily Mail tweet that says “Is Alex Claremont-Diaz going to be a father?” with the caption “But we were ever so careful, dear.” Henry texts Alex a screenshot of a Daily Mail tweet that says “Is Alex Claremont-Diaz going to be a father?” with the caption “But we were ever so careful, dear.” Alex gets ejected from Zahra’s weekly debriefing meeting with him and June.

Oct. 19-Oct. 28, 2019 (Sat.-Mon.) (p. 69-71) — Henry and Alex text regularly on a variety of topics including family, friends, beer, boats, and Hogwarts houses.

**Oct. 29, 2019 (Tue.) (p. 71-72) — Henry texts Alex about being in a meeting with Philip. Later that night Alex replies, asking what the meeting was about.

**Oct. 30, 2019 (Wed.) (p. 73) — 1:07 p.m. EST Henry and Alex text about Henry’s grey tie in his instagram post.

**Nov. 17, 2019 (Sun.) (p. 74) — 11:04 a.m. EST: Henry receives a box of Ellen Claremont campaign buttons with Alex’s face on them. Sniffer dogs were nearly called after the security theme thought it was a bomb. Alex and Henry text about it.

**Nov. 25, 2019 (Mon.) (p. 75-84) — Alex finds out that the turkeys his mom will be pardoning have been staying in the Willard Hotel on taxpayers dime. He convinces her to put them in his room.

10 p.m. EST/3 a.m. GMT: Alex regrets his decisions. He calls Henry to prove they’re as terrifying as Alex claims and they have a long conversation about the turkeys, Henry’s pets, and how Henry surprises Alex.

**Dec. 8, 2019 (Sun.) (p. 84) — 8:53 p.m. EST: Alex texts Henry about a Bond marathon happening on TV. He asks if Henry knows his dad was a total babe, which Henry replies with “I BEG YOU NOT”

*Dec. 20, 2019 (Fri.) (p. 84-85) — Ellen reads an article in the Post with the headline “Senator Oscar Diaz Returns to DC For Holidays With Ex-Wife President Claremont”. She continues to stress about decorations in the Lincoln Bedroom for Oscar.

*Dec. 21, 2019 (Sat.) (p. 85) — Oscar Diaz arrives at the White House. June nearly breaks a vase launching herself into his arms. Oscar and June disappear to the chocolate shop on the ground floor.

*Dec. 22, 2019 (Sun.) (p. 85-86) — Oscar and Alex bond over a cigar on the Truman Balcony.

*Dec. 23, 2019 (Mon.) (p. 87) — Alex catches Oscar in the kitchens with two of the cooks, laughing and dumping peppers into a pot.

*Dec. 21-23, 2019 (Sat.-Mon.) (p. 86-87) — Alex wishes it could be like this more often and misses having everyone under one roof.

**Dec. 24, 2019 (Tue.) (p. 87-95) — Christmas dinner is held on Christmas Eve so Zahra can still attend. Zahra wears a sensible red turtleneck. Alex wears a sweater covered in bright green tinsel. ‘O Christmas Tree” plays out of a speaker near his armpit when he presses a button on the inside of his sleeve. Dinner conversation moves to the election. Oscar and Ellen argue. Alex loses his temper and leaves.

9:30 p.m. EST/2:30 a.m. GMT: Alex changes into an old lacrosse shirt and calls Henry. Henry is wearing candy cane pjs. Alex tells Henry about the divorce and what happened at dinner and only realizes he’s been talking for an hour when henry says “It sounds like you did your best.) June knocks on the door and Alex hangs up after thanking Henry and wishing him a Merry Christmas.

10:30 p.m.: June and Alex talk about what happened after Alex left and then Alex tells her he was talking to Henry, not Nora.

**Dec. 26, 2019 (Th.) (p. 95-97) — Alex spends the day going over waivers for the “Legendary Balls Out Bananas White House Trio New Year’s Eve Party” aka “The Young America New Year’s Eve Gala” aka “The Millennial Correspondents Dinner”.

Dec. 27, 2019 (Fri.) (p. 96-97) — Alex discovers Henry is coming to the party and bringing Pez when he glances at the final guest list while the Trio are looking at confetti samples and eating cake samples.

**Dec. 31, 2019 (Tue.) (p. 97-103) — Pez posts a picture of him and Henry on a private jet headed to DC with the caption “USA bound! #YoungAmericaGala2019” Pez has dyed his hair pastel pink, and Henry is wearing a grey sweatshirt. Alex texts Henry that he will be wearing a burgundy suit and warns Henry to not attempt to outshine Alex, as he will fail and Alex will be embarrassed for him. Henry replies “Wouldn’t dream of it”. After that the Trio begins getting ready. Nora’s short curls are swept to the side with a matching silver pin to the geometric designs on the bodice of her black dress. June’s gown is midnight blue and perfectly compliments the navy-and-gold color palette they chose for the party.

8 p.m.: Guests begin to arrive. The first wave includes some White House interns, and the daughter of a first time Senator and her girlfriend. The second wave is the politically strategic invites chosen by the press team, and finally the fashionably late, including Minor to mid-range popstars and the children of major celebrities.

Pez and Henry show up. Pez is in a colorful floral print shiny silk bomber jacket. Henry is wearing a simple dark blue suit with a bright coppery-mustard tie in a narrow cut. Alex realizes this is the first time they’ve seen each other in person since their weekend in London and feels like he’s meeting a new person.

There's dancing and mingling, and June makes a speech about the immigration fund they’re supporting with their donations. June and Henry talk at the bar.

The live band breaks and the DJ takes over. Alex finds out Henry hasn’t ever dry humped to “Get Low”. There’s more dancing and crowd pleasers until midnight.

11:59 p.m.: They huddle together for the countdown.

**Jan. 1, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 103-108) — 12:00 a.m. Nora kisses Alex

Alex loses track of things. Alex goes looking for Henry. He eventually finds him under a tree. They talk. Henry is vague and Alex is dummy thicc. Henry calls Alex thick and kisses him. Henry pulls away and disappears from the party.

*Jan. 1-Jan. 4, 2020 (Th.-Sat.) (p. 109) — Alex tries listening in on his mom’s meeting as a distraction but can’t pay attention. Zahra bans him from the West Wing.

*Jan. 5-Jan 7, 2020 (Sun.-Tue.) (p. 109) — Alex studies bills going through Congress and considers making the rounds at the Senate or starting a rumor with Nora, but he has no enthusiasm.

**Jan. 8, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 109) — Alex begins his final semester at Georgetown.

*Jan. 9-Jan. 14, 2020 (Th.-Tue.) (p. 109) — Alex throws himself into classwork, meets with the social secretary to plan his graduation dinner. Henry doesn’t answer his texts.

*Jan. 15, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 110-114) — June is fed up with Alex’s pacing and takes him out for a run. Alex does some introspection. Alex tells his mom he wants to start his campaign job now, instead of waiting until he graduates.

*Jan. 20, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 115) — Alex starts his new job at the campaign offices.

*Jan. 20-Jan. 25, 2020 (Mon.-Fri.) (p. 115-116) — Alex puts 23 hours into his new job and Definitely Does Not Think About Henry.

*Sometime between Jan. 25 and Jan 29, 2020 (Fri.-Wed.) (p. 116-122) — Alex comes out to Nora and tells her about Henry.

*Jan. 30, 2020 (Th.) (p. 122-127) — Alex rushes from work to his lecture and review and returns to the White House in a bad mood. June has the week’s tabloids. Alex freaks out at the idea that Henry is going on a date with a girl. Alex finally realizes he’s not straight. Alex calls Liam.

*Jan. 31, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 128-146)  — The state dinner. There's a hot makeout session and Alexander Hamilton watches.

10:48 p.m.: Alex paces around his room.

10:54 p.m. Henry arrives at Alex’s rooms

*Feb. 1, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 122) — Alex has a campaign event in Nebraska

Feb. 13, 2020 (Th.) (p. 146-147) — Henry informs Alex of a charity polo match in Greenwich, Connecticut. That evening, June asks why he’s bailing on the fund-raiser he’s meant to be at

**Feb. 15, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 147-152) — The polo match. Alex spends 4.5 hours driving up, stays for 3 hours, and then drives 4.5 hours back.

**March 3, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 152) — 7:32 p.m. EST: Alex sends Henry an email asking if he will be in Paris for a fundraiser that weekend.

**March 4, 2020, (Wed.) (p. 152-156) — 2:14 a.m.-2:43 a.m.: Henry replies, and eventually concedes after a brief back and forth.

*March 7-8, 2020 (Sat.-Sun.) (p. 157-158) — Henry and Alex have a clandestine hookup in Paris and spend the night together.

*March 8, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 158) — Zahra texts Alex a screenshot of a buzzfeed article about him and Henry.

*March 9-March 27, 2020 (Mon.-Fri.) (p. 158-159) — Alex and Henry continue to text.

Sometime between March 23 and 26, 2020 (Mon.-Th.) (p. 159) — Alex tells Henry about a voter drive he will be attending in NYC at the end of March and Henry re-schedules his visit to NYC for that weekend.

*March 27, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 159) — Alex and Henry celebrate their birthdays with champagne and a buttercream cupcake.

April 1, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 159) — Alex convinces Henry to download Snapchat.

April 4, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 159) — Henry sends a snap of him on a sailboat.

April 5, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 182) — Bea walks in on an after-dark FaceTime session.

April 9, 2020 (Th.) (p. 160) — Henry is right that Remus John Lupin is gay as the day is long and won’t hear a word against it.

April 10, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 161) — June notices the photo of the man with AIDS protesting pinned over Alex’s desk

*April 11, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 162) — Henry and Alex meet at a gala in Berlin. Alex ties Henry’s wrists to the bedpost.

*April 13, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 162-163) — Zahra notices the hickeys on Alex’s neck at the weekly briefing.

*April 25, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 163-173) — Someone paints “Powder Princess” on the side of Bea’s car. Late afternoon EST: Henry and Alex have a phone call largely centered around family.

April 30, 2020 (Th.) (p. 173-182) — 9:44 p.m.: Alex redraws districts in Texas and misses dinner with June. After getting back to the Residence, June reveals she’s known about Alex and Henry the whole time.

*May 2, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 183-185) — 4 a.m. EST/9 a.m. BST: Alex FaceTimes Henry and Pez at Llwynywermod.

**May 1-9, 2020 (Fri.-Sat.) (p. 185) — Georgetown finals week

**May 15, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 186-189) — Alex graduates summa cum laude from Georgetown. Jacinto drops out, making Richards the official Republican nominee. Alex eavesdrops on a conversation between Rafael Luna and Oscar Diaz.

Sometime between May 16 and May 22, 2020 (Sat.-Fri.) (p. 189) — Henry invites the Trio to a fund-raiser in LA the next weekend.

*May 30, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 189-200) — Alex gets lunch with his dad, who changes the subject every time Alex brings up the conversation with Luba. Alex attends the fund-raiser in LA followed by partying. Henry and Alex fuck.

*May 31, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 200-201) — 7:00 a.m.: Alex and Henry wake up. June, Nora, and Pez are heavily implied to have had a threesome. Alex realizes he has friends now.

**June 8, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 202-206) — 3:23 p.m.-7:21 p.m. EST:  Henry and Alex exchange emails.

**June 13, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 207) — Alex misses his first DC pride while in Nevada. He “talks to his minibar about it”

*June 20, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 207) — Houston rally at Minute Maid Park.

*June 22, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 207-210) — Alex argues with WASPy Hunter about Texas. Alex looks up LSAT testing centers in DC.

*June 23, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 210-213) — Alex texts the groupchat “3 Geniuses and Alex” with Nora, Bea, and Henry asking where his speech for Milwaukee is.

Sometime between June 24 and July 3, 2020 (Wed.-Fri.) (p. 213) — Alex receives an invitation to Wimbledon

*July 5, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 213) — 10:20 p.m. EST: Alex takes off from DC for London.

**July 6, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 213-221) — Alex spends his one day off from the campaign at Wimbledon with Henry.

10:35 a.m. BST: Alex lands in London.

11:30 a.m.: Alex makes it through customs and Henry and Shaan pick him up at the airport.

12:30 p.m.: Arrival at Wimbledon

1:00 p.m.: The first game at Central Court begins

4:00 p.m.: Philip and Martha show up. Philip is an idiot that says “Morning”. Bea, like a smart person, says “Afternoon”. Henry and Philip argue, and Henry runs off.

4:10 p.m.: Alex finds Henry in the clubhouse

4:12 p.m.: Henry “shows Alex round the clubhouse”. Alex and Henry cum for the first time

After that they go to Kensington. Henry plays the piano for a while. They make out for what could be hours. They move to Henry’s room where Henry, at least, cums for the second time that day. Alex spends almost an hour making Henry cum for a third time. After that, Henry asks Alex to fuck him again, where Henry cums for the fourth time that day, and Alex cums for at least the second time, possibly a third time.

Alex takes hours to sleep.

*July 7, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 221-222) — 9:00 a.m. BST: Alex flies home to DC and lands around 9:10 a.m. EST for DNC prep.

The Richards campaign leaks they’ve tapped an independant.

*July 9, 2020 (Th.) (p. 222) — Claremont campaign releases the official platform.

*July 11, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 221-222) — Richards holds a rally at Vanderbilt University. 

**July 14, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 223-224) — The gang flies to NYC on the evening of the second day of the DNC.

9:00 p.m.: The Richards campaign announces that the Independent senator joining Richards’s cabinet is Rafael Luna.

9:15 p.m.: Air Force One lands and the White House crew goes into crisis management meetings. Alex texts Luna “What the fuck”

11:00 p.m.: Luna responds “I don’t expect you to understand”.

*July 15, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 224-234) — 12:00 a.m.: Alex and June leave meetings and get harassed by a Post reporter. June goes to bed, and Alex goes to the bar where he meets Henry. They retire to Alex’s room.

6:45 a.m.: Zahra wakes Alex (and Henry) up, and discovers their relationship.

July 20, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 235-239) — 1:00 p.m.: Alex comes out to his mother.

2:00 p.m. — Ellen gives a PowerPoint presentation, then makes Alex do paperwork and kicks him off the campaign.

**Aug. 10, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 239-247) 1:04 a.m.-8:22 p.m. EST — Henry and Alex exchange emails about the complex nature of their relationship, and Alex extends an invite to the lake house.

*Aug. 22, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 247-257) — Day one of the lake house. The Trio arrive earlier, possibly on Friday. Early morning: They gas up the car before taking it to the hangar to pick up Henry in Austin. 1.5 hours — The drive to the lake. They arrive, Oscar welcomes everyone. Alex barbecues ribs. They spend the evening after dinner singing and playing guitar. Alex and Henry sleep in separate bunks

*Aug. 23, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 257-264) — Day two of the lake house. Alex makes breakfast. In the afternoon, Henry talks to Oscar about boats and outboard motors. They swim. That night, Henry and Alex go skinny dipping

*Aug. 24, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 264-265) — Alex wakes up to find that Henry has left.

*Aug. 25, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 266, 267) —  Alex sends five texts to Henry. He also paces on the roof of the residence and wrecks his heels.

*Aug. 26, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 266) — Alex sends two texts to Henry.

*Aug. 27, 2020 (Thu.) (p. 266) — Alex sends no texts to Henry.

*Aug. 28, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 266) — Alex trains himself to check his phone after two hours instead of one.

Sometime between Aug. 25-28 (Tue.-Fri.) (p. 267) — Alex’s Claremont for America mug is smashed in the sink. 2.5 different dreams of Henry’s hair. An email is drafted and deleted.

*Aug. 29, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 267) — Luna makes his fifth campaign stop for Richards. Alex breaks his phone screen and it is replaced by the end of the day.

*Aug. 31, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 267-276) —  Alex finds the note Henry left in the pocket of his kimono and smashes his phone.

5:45 a.m. EST/10 a.m. BST: Alex buys first class nonstop tickets for him and Cash and sends Cash a text.

7:45 a.m./12:45 p.m.: Alex and Cash’s flight begins boarding

8:00 a.m./1:00 p.m.: Alex and Cash’s flight leaves Dulles for London. Alex calls Zahra on the runways and asks her to call them a car in London

3:15 p.m./8:15 p.m.: The plane lands and they leave for Kensington

4:00 p.m./9:00 p.m.: They arrive in Kensington.

*Sep. 1, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 276-284) — Henry goes for a run. Philip eats plain toast. They have a conversation in the kitchen. Alex wakes up alone. Henry brings Alex coffee. They spend the day together.

**Sep. 2, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 284-293) — 2:00 a.m.: Henry and Alex sneak out and explore the V&A.

5:00 a.m. EST/10:00 a.m. BST: Alex and Cash’s plane departs from Heathrow to Dulles.

3:00 p.m. EST/8:00 p.m. BST: Alex arrives back home.

5:12 p.m. EST: Alex emails Henry to say he arrived back home

**Sep. 3, 2020 (Th.) (p. 294-297) — 2:49 a.m. EST: Henry replies, mentions he’s considering coming out to Philip and he may have to enlist.

6:20 a.m. EST: Alex responds, worried that Henry might have to enlist. He is supportive of Henry coming out.

**Sep. 4, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 297-304) — 7:58 p.m. EST: Henry says he came out to Philip and talks about putting memories into rooms.

8:31 p.m. EST: Alex responds and sends Henry an incomplete list.

Sep. 14, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 305-310) — Zahra shows up with a diamond ring at the breakfast weekly brief. Footage of Henry and Alex at the DNC is leaked. June posts a photo of her and Henry on instagram and it spreads within hours. 

Alex takes Nora on a fake date as Henry flies to DC. Henry lands in the middle of the night.

Sep. 15, 2020 (Tue.) (310-313) — June lets Alex into her SUV in the morning on the way to her fake date with Henry. After an hour at the cafe, Henry and Alex meet in the SUV and kiss. They don’t notice when someone takes pictures

*Sep. 24, 2020 (Th.) (p. 314-318) — Alex meets with Luna and comes out to him. He returns to the residence, attempts to call Henry, and then gets drunk.

**Sep. 25, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 319-321) — 3:21 a.m. EST/8:21 a.m. BST: Alex sends a drunk email.

6:07 a.m./11:07 a.m.: Henry replies.

**Sep. 27, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 321-344) — Email Leak Day 

3 a.m. EST/8 a.m. BST: News breaks.

3:23 a.m./8:23 a.m. Zahra wakes Alex up and puts him on communications lockdown. Alex meets with his mom.

6:00 a.m./11:00 a.m.: Philip arrives at Kensington

8:00 a.m./3:00 p.m.: Alex gets out of meetings, starts napping

1:00 p.m./6:00 p.m.: Zahra tells Alex to pack a bag

7:00 p.m./12:00: They arrive at Kensington

11:00 p.m./4:00 a.m.: Alex finally climbs into bed next to Henry.

*Sep. 28, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 344-358) — Philip shows up at Kensington, hair uncombed and suit askew. Philip yells at them in the kitchen about breaking the communication embargo. Henry leaves, and Alex follows and leaves Philip red in the kitchen.

6:00 a.m./11:00 a.m.: They meet with the queen.

Alex takes a photo of a mural and posts it on Twitter on his way to the airplane

**Sep. 29, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 358-367) —  9:15 p.m. Jezebel tweets about DC Dykes on Bikes chasing Westboro Baptist protesters down Pennsylvania Ave.

Alex gets back to DC. Nora comes busting in with proof.

*Sep. 30, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 367-370) — The White House leaks proof of the Richarads campaign stalking, surveilling, hacking, and outing Alex. Rafael Luna announces on twitter he has left the campaign. The podcast Bills, Bills, Bills, records an episode about it.

**Oct. 2, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 370-383) — In the morning, Alex gives his speech, which June wrote. Henry is there to support him. They make out for like 45-55 minutes before the speech. Jeffrey Richards goes on CNN. Alex sees Luna in his office. Luna tells Alex about his past with Richards.

*Oct. 3, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 375) —  A crowd at the Mall. Cash, Amy, and Amy’s wife are there.

*Oct. 4, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 383-385, 409) — 7:32 a.m.: The boys wake up. 

9:30 a.m.: Henry leaves back to England.

Alex goes back to the campaign trail. Liam calls.

*Oct. 4-10, 2020 (Sun.-Sat.) (p. 389) — The crown makes decisions about what to do about the emails: re Bea's addiction reveal, and Henry enlisting.

Sometime between Oct. 11-17, 2020 (Sun.-Sat.) (p. 391) — Philip has a falling out with the queen and apologizes to Henry and Bea.

Sometime between Oct. 25-31, 2020 (Sun.-Sat.) (p. 386-392) — The photoshoot in Hyde park.

*Nov. 2, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 393-399) — Day before election day. Alex struggles to pick a tie. June gets a book deal. The Trio falls asleep in the bed together.

**Nov. 3, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 400-418) —  Election day

Alex votes.

6:00 p.m.: The Trio arrives at the election night event.

6:37 p.m. Henry texts Alex about plane troubles.

7:32 p.m.: Oliver Westbrook from Bills, Bills, Bills tweets about GOPers backing Richards even after everything that’s happened.

8:04 p.m.: 538 politics tweets that they’re confused about Michigan, Ohio, Pennsylvania, and Wisconsin being too close to call.

9:15 p.m.: NYT tweets that Claremont is at 178 and Richards is at 113

9:30 p.m.: Ellen worries about losing and asks June to write a concession speech. June refuses. Alex makes a speech. Henry finally arrives.

10:30 p.m.: Richards takes Iowa, Utah, and Montana. Claremont gets California’s 55 electoral votes.

12:00 a.m.: Claremont has the lead. Alex runs into Liam. Florida and Nevada go red.

12:30 a.m.: Texas goes blue.

1:00 a.m.: Alex unlocks the door with the key around his neck.

[ohnobjyx]

Plum blossoms in the snow (II)

Part 4: April and May (II)

Disclaimer: I try to keep things objective (if I include my personal opinion, it’s in cursive and in brackets), but I’m biased because of the XZ friendly content I’m usually exposed to and by my own views of their situation. Open to discussion, but please make sure you’ve enough information to do so.

(There was a mistake in the last post, that an anon pointed out. I’ve edited the post. Thank you!)

In May, some of the controversy resurfaced, in the topic of how idols and celebrities affect the younger generations, and, even how they affect younger generations by affecting those in charge of their education.

TV documentary

At the beginning of May, a documentary appeared on the news about a mother worried for her high school daughter, who neglected her studies “because she was infatuated with XZ”. Among other things, she’d ask for money to buy XZ’s new song (0’5 by the way) and she’d borrow money from her classmates to buy things he endorses.

Her daughter also appeared on the documentary, saying that her academic performance has nothing to do with XZ, but rather with the pandemic situation, as she’s not used to online classes. It turned out that she had skipped a grade, and entered high school directly from 2nd year of middle school, so she lacked the support of a network of friends and encouragement in her new situation. She said that as soon as she got her motivation back, she’d keep studying.

However, general public sided with her mother, and said that this kind of obsession with an idol was leading the youths astray.

Interview with Economic View

XZ also gave an interview, for the first time since 2/27, for Economic View, alking about many topics, the “XZ fans incident” among them (I found this video with subtitles, and I think the subtitles are quite good).

He said, among other things:

“Everything happened in the climax of the country’s fight against the epidemic. I was deeply troubled and worried while I was quarantined at home. I also felt very if this incident has brought trouble to netizens. If that’s the case, from here, I want to say a sincere ‘I’m sorry’.

Since my debut to now, I’ve never ceased to receive well-meaning criticism and guidance. I went from being a normal person to go on to the stage. From my friends, from seniors… I’m always open to them. But of course, there is malicious criticism, some fake rumours and slander, that I think don’t affect just me, but also my friends and family. I don’t feel wronged. I just don’t understand.

When I was 19-20, and I first used w/ibo, I didn’t realize. That in such a public platform, I made inappropriate comments that have hurt other people. I apologize for the consequences of the inappropriate comments I’ve made in the past.”

He also said that the fans always did public welfare projects in his name, and that he got energy from them.

“I hope fans can live their own lives well, and don’t resort to extreme actions to hurt others or themselves.”

This interview was of course praised for showing responsibility and answering almost all questions. We can all notice that his responses are very carefully worded, that he takes his time thinking about what he’s going to say and how, and that his answers are very calculated. Don’t misunderstand me. He did it very well in this interview, and I don’t think he was insincere, but he needed to be very careful about what he said at the time.

Other idols and their sasaengs

On the 9th of May, WYB posted the following:

“I work very hard, can’t I even nap for a bit in the car? My staff stood in front of your car, and you still dared to drive forward? For a long time, strangers come and knock my hotel room’s door, they install tracking devices in my car, there’s people following me no matter where I go… unbelievable! I really can’t understand you!”

A crazy fan had followed him on her car. When the security had tried to stop her, stepping in front of her car, she still tried to drive forward.

To this, UNIQ OFFICIAL account expressed their support like this:

“Against this kind of vile behaviour, report to the police! Let the law investigate their legal responsibility! To those who go against other people’s security and don’t respect your privacy, zero tolerance!”

The teacher’s incident

On the 10th, XZ posted:

“Please listen to me carefully once more! I wish you to take good care of your studies, careers, personal lives, and to place them before “chasing stars”. Study hard, take your job seriously. Be responsible and assume your obligations, follow the rules of your career and abide by professionalism. I don’t your help.”

This message may seem harsh to some of their fans. So, why did XZ publish such a comment?

A primary school teacher had posted a video of his students cheering for XZ. This angered a lot of netizens, who said that she was using a position of power to “indoctrinate” young children to like this idol. The haters affirmed that she was guiding the children to “chase” stars, and that she’s a bad influence (I actually agree with this one, you really shouldn’t do this in a classroom, but to involve XZ again is going too far).

XZ and the teacher were reported to the authorities. The Ministry of Education answered that the teacher had been suspended from her job and the school’s director had received a formal reprimand. The teacher’s w/ibo account had also been blocked. This is the main reason for XZ’s post.

Talking about unreasonable responses, after this incident with the teacher, the next day the topic “XZ’s supertopic teachers group” went on hot search in w/ibo. A group consisting of more than 1000 teachers, all fans of XZ, had been formed inside the supertopic. This was widely questioned by the netizens and haters.

To be fair, this didn’t happen just to XZ. Around the same time, another video emerged, with a teacher encouraging his kindergarten students to cheer for Wang Junkai. So with this incident, the Ministry of Education started to pay attention to similar content.

On the 14th, XZ forwarded an article by People’s Daily about teachers using their students to cheer for their idols and asking 

“Don’t go beyond the limits of your professionalism. Don’t leave the circle of rationalism. The fan quan can’t circle everything” (”quan” means circle)

Many more teachers were reported, and in response, the XZ’s fans association posted this:

“There are many voices criticizing XZ’s fans right now. We accept the criticism. XZ has told his fans to “pursue the idols” in a civilized and rational way, but some still display unreasonable behaviour. These actions have a great negative impact on him. We apologize to him and to other fans in their name.”  

This even extended to a teacher teaching a course of cyber-violence. She used XZ as an example of cyber violence and haters’ attack. This was brought again to the authorities by the haters, and she was suspended from her job. Luckily, her students and their parents were very supportive and defended her, so she came back to her post.

(This was just ridiculous. Really).  

This is quite a curious thing: even though we can see that objectively, this teacher didn’t do anything wrong, the department deemed her at fault due to the large number of reports.  

(It’s a thinking that goes along the lines of “if a lot of people think she has done something wrong, then she must have done something wrong”.)

So if haters can’t find anything to criticize in XZ, they’ll turn to his fans.

More support...

15th of May. A screenwriter and director posted a comment praising XZ and lamenting about his situation. The next day, he updated saying that he had been attacked in private comments because of his post, so he was very angry by it (he was angry with haters, not with xz).

On that day a photographer that had worked with him also praised him, saying he was humble and polite. He was also attacked by haters and antis, saying he had only praised XZ out of all the idols he had worked with, so he had to have ulterior motives, such as being paid by his studio or insulting the other idols in disguise.

People noticed that if someone defends XZ, no matter who they are, they’ll be attacked. No matter what XZ does, he’ll be criticized by some. If he doesn’t do anything, the haters turn on to his fans. Hater were trying to destroy every effort he made, and they managed it easily at first. After each appearance in public, he faces all kinds of comments. So conspiracy theories surged, about a mastermind behind the haters.

Even the lawyer that was managing XZ’s case was attacked by haters.

(Who in his right state of mind calls a lawyer with their own mobile phone to insult them? This logic and rationale amazes me…)

... and a little disappointment

At the end of May, the photos of him filming a episode of the season 2 of 青春环游记 were leaked on S/na News. He did participate in the recording, but the episode didn’t include him in the end (aired mid-June). A worker said they had been feeling pressure from various fronts, and finally felt that it’d be best not to include him (I suppose they feared the pressure from the antis).

In the midst of disappointment, his fans mostly reacted by keeping a positive attitude: “he posted two selfies lately, he shot a cute video making a drink (the douyin video), he seems in a good mood in all them. With them he was trying to cheer us fans. He has told us not to be used by others, not to get carried away by antis, not believe rumours, and to not be suspicious of his studio. What’s an episode in a variety show? He got paid anyway just for recording it. Let’s not cry over it.”

Truly, in spite of everything that happened at February and March, I think this is the kind of comments he deserves from his fans: people who are a little bit sad because he didn’t make it to the episode in the end, but who are still supporting him, waiting for his next project and listening to what he says.

←Part 4 (I): Plum blossoms in the snow (I) | Part 5 and 6: A snowy summer→

[nerdzzone]

Light After Dark: Chapter Twelve

Summary: Brooke Harris was trying her best to be grateful. As the world tackled the COVID-19 pandemic, she was healthy and safe and so was the rest of her family, but her dreams had very quickly been crushed by the economic fallout. Trapped on the quaint island of Jersey with nothing, but free time to wallow in her mistakes, Brooke’s mental health was taking a hit, but when she collides with a handsome stranger she starts to realize that the future might not be so bleak and there might still be a light at the end of the tunnel.

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC

______________

June. 19. 2020

"Are you excited?"

The question came from Henry as we strolled down an old country lane between a few fields as we headed towards the stables in the distance.

"I am," I smiled. "But I'm nervous too." 

"Nervous? Why?"

"Because I've never ridden a horse before!" I reminded him. "Best case scenario, I embarrass myself in front of you. Worst case scenario, I fall off and die."

Henry chuckled at my predictions, but shook his head.

"Neither of those things will happen," He assured me. "I requested a gentle, well-behaved horse for you and there's nothing to be embarrassed about. There will be no judgment from me."

"Well, I appreciate that," I smiled. "And I will hold you to it."

Henry chuckled as our hands swung between us and I turned the question back to him.

"Are you excited?"

"I am," He grinned. "I haven't been on a horse in far too long."

We turned a corner as he spoke and saw a man with two horses, brushing one of their manes.

"They look huge!"

Henry laughed at my observation and nodded.

"Most horses do tend to be quite large," He teased. "Were you expecting donkeys?"

"No! But I didn't think they'd be this big!"

"It'll be fine," He assured me. "We can go slow and they'll give you a helmet."

"I look awful in hats," I frowned. "Can I just promise not to fall off?"

"No," Henry chuckled. "Safety first, I'm afraid."

I went to protest, but Henry didn't give me chance before waving and calling to the man with the horses.

"Henry!" The man cheered. "So good to see you! Ready for a ride? It's a lovely day for it!"

"It's always a good day for it," Henry smiled. "But yes, we're ready. We're looking forward to it."

"Great!" The man nodded. "Well, this is Mandy and Chester and they should take good care of you today. I picked Mandy for your lovely lady. She's very calm and great for first time riders."

"Oh, good," I smiled. "Thank you for taking the time to pick a good match for me. I'm Brooke, by the way."

"Dennis," The man held out his hand for me to shake before quickly pulling it back. "Sorry, shouldn't do that, I suppose. It's hard to break those old habits."

"It is," I nodded in agreement. "But it's lovely to meet you."

"You too," Dennis smiled. "And it's nice to see you looking so relaxed and happy, Henry. You're always much too busy these days, you deserve this break even if it's been forced upon you."

"Ah, well you know what they say," Henry smirked. "No rest for the wicked."

"True, true," Dennis smiled. "Anyway, they're all saddled up and ready for you so I'll get out of your hair and leave you to it. There's a helmet on the fence pole for the first timer."

"Thank you," Henry nodded. "We should be back in a couple of hours."

"Take your time," Dennis insisted. "I have lots to do so I'll be around all afternoon."

We thanked him again before he left us. Henry walked confidently up to both horses, rubbing their noses and cooing to them softly, but I hung back.

"Are they friendly?"

Henry turned around then, noticing that I wasn't with him and smiled.

"Are you scared of them?"

"No," I insisted. "Just trying to be respectful..."

"They are friendly," Henry assured me. "Just walk over slowly, from an angle so you're not in their blind spot, and speak softly so they know that you're here without startling them. And try to relax because they pick up on tension very easily. These horses are well trained and socialized though so they're very easy going around people."

I nodded and cautiously did as he advised and approached the smaller horse that I assumed was for me. Once I got close enough and she hadn't panicked at my presence, I held out my hand to let her sniff before gently rubbing her nose.

"Awe, she's pretty sweet," I smiled, happy that she hadn't attacked me. "They're so calm."

"I've been riding here since I was a boy," Henry told me. "Dennis takes great care in training each and every horse so they're all very well-behaved."

"You are well-behaved," I cooed to the horse. "You're going to be very understanding that I have no idea what I'm doing, aren't you?"

Henry chuckled beside me.

"She will be understanding," He agreed. "Now, do you want to get in the saddle?"

I nodded hesitantly.

"Will you help me get up?"

"Of course," Henry nodded, walking down the side of the horse, running his hand along her neck as he went. "Just swing your foot up into the stirrup, grab onto the top and hoist yourself up until you can swing your other leg over."

"Okay, just make sure I don't fall."

Henry nodded again and stood behind me as I put my hands on the top of the saddle and took a deep breath. After a moment of psyching myself up, I put my foot in the stirrup and lifted myself with the help of Henry's hands on my hips. I let out a sigh of relief once I was settled on top of the horse, holding the reins tightly as if she was going to bolt any minute.

"Perfect!" Henry grinned. "Now you just need to put this on."

He went to the fence where the helmet was hanging and passed it up to me.

"Do I really have to?" I wrinkled my nose, knowing what the answer would be and when Henry nodded, I reluctantly put it on. "I feel like a knob head."

Henry laughed, apparently at my choice of words and not because of how I looked because once he'd got his laughter under control he flashed me one of his winning smiles.

"You don't look like a knob head," He assured me. "You look adorable."

"Liar," I glared playfully as Henry approached his horse. "How come you don't have to wear one? Accidents can happen to anyone."

"They can," He agreed before effortlessly lifting himself into the saddle. "But I have many years of experience under my belt and we won't be going on any trails that I can't handle or am unfamiliar with."

"It still seems unfair," I mumbled, earning a cheeky grin from Henry. "Anyway, any other tips for me before we head off?"

"Just relax is the best tip," Henry informed me as he moved his horse to be right next to mine. "Don't hunch your shoulders or grip your legs too tightly. We won't be going faster than a walk so you just have to keep yourself loose and move with the horse."

"Okay," I nodded, taking a deep breath. "So, how do I get her to move?"

Henry laughed again and I couldn't help but laugh with him at my own stupidity before I protested, reminding him that I was very new to this and he promised not to make fun of me.

"I know, I'm sorry," He smirked. "You're just too cute being so clueless."

"Okay, well after this we'll do some baking," I suggested. "Then we'll see who's clueless."

"I would definitely be the clueless one there," Henry relented. "But anyway, you just gently tap your heels against her side and she'll start walking."

Henry demonstrated by tapping his horse, but stopped after a few steps to look over his shoulder while I did the same. It took me a few tries as I didn't want to kick too hard and hurt poor Mandy, but eventually I got her moving and we set off on our adventure.

****

The trails Henry took us on were very easy, even I didn't struggle at all. It helped that Mandy really was a wonderful horse and after the initial nerves that something would go wrong, the whole thing was really relaxing and quite fun. We rode around for about an hour and a half before Henry suggested that we head back to the stables. I wasn't going to admit it, but I was somewhat relieved as my bottom was starting to hurt from the unfamiliar exercise, but it was bittersweet because watching Henry do something that was so in his element was very heartwarming. There was something quite boyish about him while we were out on the trails and it was very endearing. It was like all his troubles had melted away and there was nothing on his mind other than the joy of doing something that he loved.

He told me tales of his many horse riding adventures as a child, including many of the mishaps and injuries that naturally happen when a young boy is tackling a skill like this and pushing the boundaries of what is safe. He told me how much he'd missed it once his career took off and he didn't have the need or the time to ride as much as he would have liked to. And he told me how pleased he was and how lucky he felt that horseback riding was such an important part of his new role. Geralt and his horse are apparently inseparable so Henry was determined that he would have a similarly close relationship with the horse that he worked with on the show.

His passion was inspiring and I would be lying if I didn't fall for him just a little bit more knowing that he'd opened up to show me this side of himself.

After we dropped the horses back off at the stables and we were once again walking through the wide country lanes, I brought it up.

"Thank you for today," I squeezed his hand gently. "Thank you for sharing this part of your world with me."

"You're welcome," Henry smiled. "I'm glad I could give you the opportunity to try something that you've always wanted to do."

"It was great," I nodded. "But it's not just that. I can tell this is something that means a lot to you and it was lovely to get the chance to see that and be apart of it."

I felt like I was being sappy and worried for a moment that Henry would think I was being a bit over the top, but the soft look on his face put me at ease.

"It does mean a lot to me and it was nice getting to share it with you, even if I probably bored you to death with my stories."

"Not at all," I shook my head. "I'm touched that you want to tell me these things. I would imagine that with your line of work it can be hard, you know, opening up to people because you never know what someone's motive might be. Every time you show me another part of yourself, I'm so relieved that you trust me enough to let me in."

Henry stopped walking then and using our clasped hands, he pulled me towards him before wrapping his arms loosely around my waist.

"It can be difficult to know what people's motives are," He agreed. "But it's hard for a lot of people to let someone in, regardless of their career, and you've been nothing, but open with me so I'm happy to return the favour. And I do trust you, you've never given me a reason not to."

I smiled as I let my arms drape over his shoulders.

"Does that mean that you haven't noticed that I sell all the selfies you send me online then?"

It was a joke which Henry clearly understood as his shoulders shook with laughter.

"Times are tough," He smirked. "If you're that desperate for money then I'll let it slide for now."

"You're so generous," I giggled. "Thank you for your understanding."

"Perhaps you can thank me in another way..."

The smirk was still on Henry's face as he spoke and I matched it before stretching up and, knowing what he was referring to, pressing my lips against his.

Despite having more of a sense of each other and a certain level of comfort now, there was still a spark of excitement and a hint of disbelief that I got to kiss such a gorgeous man. His grip tightened on my waist, pulling me even closer to his chest as his tongue slid into my mouth. The softness of our romantic day, mixed with the building tension between us was almost too much and I couldn't stop a moan from slipping out as Henry softly rubbed his thumb on my side where my shirt had ridden up.

Henry let out a low grunt in response before pulling his mouth back from mine just enough to trail kisses along my jaw and down onto my neck. His hand still slowly pushing its way under my shirt, combined with his soft breath tickling the hair on the back of my neck as his lips nibbled and sucked gently on my skin made me dizzy. My hand slid into his hair, gripping it tightly, but I was unsure if I wanted to pull him away or hold him there forever. Letting out another groan, Henry made that decision for me when he nipped my skin once more before pulling back and rested his forehead against mine.

His eyes were shut as he breathed deeply and with the slight change in position, I could feel a bulge in his pants. My breath caught in my throat at the sensation and I settled back down on my feet to nestle my head in his neck.

"We need some privacy," I sighed. "We can't keep making out like horny teenagers in public places."

Henry chuckled, but I felt him nod against the top of my head.

"I've been meaning to talk to you about that actually," He confessed. "One of my brothers has a house on the island that he uses as a holiday home in the summer, but with everything going on, they aren't coming this year."

I leaned back, intrigued by why he was sharing this with me and waited for him to continue.

"So, I mentioned how hard it is some days with eight of us living in one house and he offered to let me use his place. He's posted me the keys, they should be here in a few days and I was wondering if you'd like to come over once they arrive?"

I felt like I was vibrating with excitement at the thought of having a quiet evening in a private space with Henry. Being able to spend the night, have some time to ourselves without our families or the general public being around us. It would be a small bit of normalcy in the midst of the strange world we were living in and I could have burst with happiness.

"Of course!" I grinned. "I would love to."

"Perfect," He smiled, leaning down to softly kiss my lips. "And there's no pressure or expectations for anything, I just thought it would be nice for us to have some time away from prying eyes."

It was sweet of him to clarify and reassure me, but it was unnecessary. Of course, I wouldn't pressure him into anything either, but there was a mounting tension between us and I was fairly certain that we both knew how things would go.

"It will be nice," I agreed, resting my head back in the crook of his neck. "I can't wait."

"Me neither."

Henry kissed the top of my head and tried to step away, but I tightened my grip and groaned in protest.

"Can you carry me home?" I mumbled against his skin. "My legs are so tired. I didn't realize sitting on a horse would take so much effort."

"It makes your muscles work in a way that you're probably not used to," Henry sympathized. "I probably pushed it a bit with such a long ride for a beginner."

"It was really fun though," I insisted. "I wouldn't change it, but walking home is starting to feel like an insurmountable task..."

I was being a tad dramatic, I would definitely make it home, but I flashed him a dramatic pout for added effect. He laughed and shook his head, but moved out of my grasp before turning around.

"Hop on."

"Are you sure?" I smiled. "I wasn't really expecting you to carry me."

"Oh, sure you weren’t," Henry rolled his eyes. "Just get on before I change my mind."

I giggled and climbed onto his back, holding on tightly as he stood up.

"Am I really not too heavy?" I fretted. "Let me know if you get too tired."

Henry laughed at that as he lifted my legs into a position that was more comfortable for him before starting off down the path again.

"You're light as a feather," He assured me. "I lift weights much heavier than you."

I rested my head on his shoulder, raising an eyebrow suspiciously.

"Really?"

"Well, I know better than to ask your weight," He smirked. "But I would say that it's a safe bet."

"Very impressive."

I kissed his cheek and he turned his head to place a kiss on my arm. My heart was feeling very full after our lovely day. Every day we spent together, I felt our bond grow. Henry had mentioned that I was open with him, but it was almost effortless. I never felt like I would be judged for anything I told him and I was pleased to know that feeling was reciprocated.

The world thought they knew Henry Cavill, but as the evening sun washed over the fields around us, I couldn't help but beam with pride that I was the person Henry Cavill wanted to share his true self with.

-

Tag List: @heartfelt-pen​ @stephartrave @herefortherealdeal @imaginecrushes​ @justaboringadult

Let me know if you’d like to be added!

[stevishabitat]

The summer wasn’t meant to be like this. By April, Greene County, in southwestern Missouri, seemed to be past the worst of the pandemic. Intensive-care units that once overflowed had emptied. Vaccinations were rising. Health-care workers who had been fighting the coronavirus for months felt relieved—perhaps even hopeful. Then, in late May, cases started ticking up again. By July, the surge was so pronounced that “it took the wind out of everyone,” Erik Frederick, the chief administrative officer of Mercy Hospital Springfield, told me. “How did we end up back here again?”

The hospital is now busier than at any previous point during the pandemic. In just five weeks, it took in as many COVID-19 patients as it did over five months last year. Ten minutes away, another big hospital, Cox Medical Center South, has been inundated just as quickly. “We only get beds available when someone dies, which happens several times a day,” Terrence Coulter, the critical-care medical director at CoxHealth, told me.

Last week, Katie Towns, the acting director of the Springfield–Greene County Health Department, was concerned that the county’s daily cases were topping 250. On Wednesday, the daily count hit 405. This dramatic surge is the work of the super-contagious Delta variant, which now accounts for 95 percent of Greene County’s new cases, according to Towns. It is spreading easily because people have ditched their masks, crowded into indoor spaces, resumed travel, and resisted vaccinations. Just 40 percent of people in Greene County are fully vaccinated. In some nearby counties, less than 20 percent of people are.

Many experts have argued that, even with Delta, the United States is unlikely to revisit the horrors of last winter. Even now, the country’s hospitalizations are one-seventh as high as they were in mid-January. But national optimism glosses over local reality. For many communities, this year will be worse than last. Springfield’s health-care workers and public-health specialists are experiencing the same ordeals they thought they had left behind. “But it feels worse this time because we’ve seen it before,” Amelia Montgomery, a nurse at CoxHealth, told me. “Walking back into the COVID ICU was demoralizing.”

Those ICUs are also filling with younger patients, in their 20s, 30s, and 40s, including many with no underlying health problems. In part, that’s because elderly people have been more likely to get vaccinated, leaving Delta with a younger pool of vulnerable hosts. While experts are still uncertain if Delta is deadlier than the original coronavirus, every physician and nurse in Missouri whom I spoke with told me that the 30- and 40-something COVID-19 patients they’re now seeing are much sicker than those they saw last year. “That age group did get COVID before, but they didn’t usually end up in the ICU like they are now,” Jonathan Brown, a respiratory therapist at Mercy, told me. Nurses are watching families navigate end-of-life decisions for young people who have no advance directives or other legal documents in place.

Almost every COVID-19 patient in Springfield’s hospitals is unvaccinated, and the dozen or so exceptions are all either elderly or immunocompromised people. The vaccines are working as intended, but the number of people who have refused to get their shots is crushing morale. Vaccines were meant to be the end of the pandemic. If people don’t get them, the actual end will look more like Springfield’s present: a succession of COVID-19 waves that will break unevenly across the country until everyone has either been vaccinated or infected. “You hear post-pandemic a lot,” Frederick said. “We’re clearly not post-pandemic. New York threw a ticker-tape parade for its health-care heroes, and ours are knee-deep in COVID.”

That they are in this position despite the wide availability of vaccines turns difficult days into unbearable ones. As bad as the winter surge was, Springfield’s health-care workers shared a common purpose of serving their community, Steve Edwards, the president and CEO of CoxHealth, told me. But now they’re “putting themselves in harm’s way for people who’ve chosen not to protect themselves,” he said. While there were always ways of preventing COVID-19 infections, Missourians could have almost entirely prevented this surge through vaccination—but didn’t. “My sense of hope is dwindling,” Tracy Hill, a nurse at Mercy, told me. “I’m losing a little bit of faith in mankind. But you can’t just not go to work.”

When Springfield’s hospitals saw the first pandemic wave hitting the coasts, they could steel themselves. This time, with Delta thrashing Missouri fast and first, they haven’t had time to summon sufficient reinforcements. Between them, Mercy and Cox South have recruited about 300 traveling nurses, respiratory therapists, and other specialists, which is still less than they need. The hospitals’ health-care workers have adequate PPE and most are vaccinated. But in the ICUs and in COVID-19 wards, respiratory therapists still must constantly adjust ventilators, entire teams must regularly flip patients onto their belly and back again, and nurses spend long shifts drenched in sweat as they repeatedly don and doff protective gear. In previous phases of the pandemic, both hospitals took in patients from other counties and states. “Now we’re blasting outward,” Coulter said. “We’re already saturating the surrounding hospitals.”

Meanwhile, the hospitals’ own staff members are exhausted beyond telling. After the winter surge, they spent months catching up on record numbers of postponed surgeries and other procedures. Now they’re facing their sharpest COVID-19 surge yet on top of those backlogged patients, many of whom are sicker than usual because their health care had to be deferred. Even with hundreds of new patients with lung cancer, asthma, and other respiratory diseases waiting for care in outpatient settings, Coulter still has to cancel his clinics because “I have to be in the hospital all the time,” he said.

Many health-care workers have had enough. Some who took on extra shifts during past surges can’t bring themselves to do so again. Some have moved to less stressful positions that don’t involve treating COVID-19. Others are holding the line, but only just. “You can’t pour from an empty cup, but with every shift it feels like my co-workers and I are empty,” Montgomery said. “We are still trying to fill each other up and keep going.”

The grueling slog is harder now because it feels so needless, and because many patients don’t realize their mistake until it’s too late. On Tuesday, Hill spoke with an elderly man who had just been admitted and was very sick. “He said, ‘I’m embarrassed that I’m here,’” she told me. “He wanted to talk about the vaccine, and in the back of my mind I’m thinking, You have a very high likelihood of not leaving the hospital.” Other patients remain defiant. “We had someone spit in a nurse’s eye because she told him he had COVID and he didn’t believe her,” Edwards said.

Some health-care workers are starting to resent their patients—an emotion that feels taboo. “You’re just angry,” Coulter said, “and you feel guilty for getting angry, because they’re sick and dying.” Others are indignant on behalf of loved ones who don’t already have access to the vaccines. “I’m a mom of a 1-year-old and a 4-year-old, and the daughter of family members in Zimbabwe and South Africa who can’t get vaccinated yet,” says Matifadza Hlatshwayo Davis, who works at a Veterans Affairs hospital in St. Louis. “I’m frustrated, angry, and sad.”

“I don’t think people get that once you become sick enough to be hospitalized with COVID, the medications and treatments that we have are, quite frankly, not very good,” says Howard Jarvis, the medical director of Cox South’s emergency department. Drugs such as dexamethasone offer only incremental benefits. Monoclonal antibodies are effective only during the disease’s earliest stages. Doctors can give every recommended medication, and patients still have a high chance of dying. The goal should be to stop people from getting sick in the first place.

But Missouri Governor Mike Parson never issued a statewide mask mandate, and the state’s biggest cities—Kansas City, St. Louis, Springfield, and Columbia—ended their local orders in May, after the CDC said that vaccinated people no longer needed to wear masks indoors. In June, Parson signed a law that limits local governments’ ability to enact public-health restrictions. And even before the pandemic, Missouri ranked 41st out of all the states in terms of public-health funding. “We started in a hole and we’re trying to catch up,” Towns, the director of the Springfield–Greene County Health Department, told me.

Her team flattened last year’s curve through testing, contact tracing, and quarantining, but “Delta has just decimated our ability to respond,” Kendra Findley, the department’s administrator for community health and epidemiology, told me. The variant is spreading too quickly for the department to keep up with every new case, and more people are refusing to cooperate with contact tracers than at this time last year. The CDC has sent a “surge team” to help, but it’s just two people: an epidemiologist, who is helping analyze data on Delta’s spread, and a communications person. And like Springfield’s hospitals, the health department was already overwhelmed with work that had been put off for a year. “Suddenly, I feel like there aren’t enough hours in the day,” Findley said.

Early last year, Findley stuck a note on her whiteboard with the number of people who died in the 1918 flu pandemic: 50 million worldwide and 675,000 in the U.S. “It was for perspective: We will not get here. You can manage this,” she told me. “I looked at it the other day and I think we’re going to get there. And I feel like a large segment of the population doesn’t care.”

The 1918 flu pandemic took Missouri by surprise too, says Carolyn Orbann, an anthropologist at the University of Missouri who studies that disaster. While much of the world felt the brunt of the pandemic in October 1918, Missouri had irregular waves with a bigger peak in February 1920. So when COVID-19 hit, Orbann predicted that the state might have a similarly drawn-out experience. Missouri has a widely dispersed population, divided starkly between urban and rural places, and few highways—a recipe for distinct and geographically disparate microcultures. That perhaps explains why new pathogens move erratically through the state, creating unpredictable surges and, in some pockets, a false sense of security. Last year, “many communities may have gone through their lockdown period without registering a single case and wondered, What did we do that for?” Orbann told me.

She also suspects that Missourians in 1918 might have had a “better overhead view of the course of the pandemic in their communities than the average citizen has now.” Back then, the state’s local papers published lists of people who were sick, so even those who didn’t know anyone with the flu could see that folks around them were dying. “It made the pandemic seem more local,” Orbann said. “Now, with fewer hometown newspapers and restrictions on sharing patient information, that kind of knowledge is restricted to people working in health care.”

Montgomery, the CoxHealth nurse, feels that disparity whenever she leaves the hospital. “I work in the ICU, where it’s like a war zone, and I go out in public and everything’s normal,” she said. “You see death and suffering, and then you walk into the grocery store and get resistance. It feels like we’re being ostracized by our community.”

If anything, people in the state have become more entrenched in their beliefs and disbeliefs than they were last year, Davis, the St. Louis–based doctor, told me. They might believe that COVID-19 has been overblown, that young people won’t be harmed, or that the vaccines were developed too quickly to be safe. But above all else, “what I predominantly get is, ‘I don’t want to talk to you about that; let’s move on,’” Davis said.

People take the pandemic seriously when they can see it around them. During past surges in other parts of the U.S., curves flattened once people saw their loved ones falling ill, or once their community became the unwanted focus of national media coverage. The same feedback loop might be starting to occur in Missouri. The major Route 66 Festival has been canceled. More people are making vaccine appointments at both Cox South and Mercy.

In Springfield, the public-health professionals I talked with felt that they had made successful efforts to address barriers to vaccine access, and that vaccine hesitancy was the driving force of low vaccination rates. Improving those rates is now a matter of engendering trust as quickly as possible. Springfield’s firefighters are highly trusted, so the city set up vaccine clinics in local fire stations. Community-health advocates are going door-to-door to talk with their neighbors about vaccines. The Springfield News-Leader is set to publish a full page of photos of well-known Springfieldians who are advocating for vaccination. Several local pastors have agreed to preach about vaccines from their pulpits and set up vaccination events in their churches. One such event, held at James River Church on Monday, vaccinated 156 people. “Once we got down to the group of hesitant people, we’d be happy if we had 20 people show up to a clinic,” says Cora Scott, Springfield’s director of public information and civic engagement. “To have 156 people show up in one church in one day is phenomenal.”

But building trust is slow, and Delta is moving fast. Even if the still-unvaccinated 55 percent of Missourians all got their first shots tomorrow, it would still take a month to administer the second ones, and two weeks more for full immunity to develop. As current trends show, Delta can do a lot in six weeks. Still, “if we can get our vaccination levels to where some of the East Coast states have got to, I’ll feel a lot better going into the fall,” Frederick, Mercy’s chief administrative officer, said. “If we plateau again, my fear is that we will see the twindemic of flu and COVID.”

In the meantime, southwest Missouri is now a cautionary tale of what Delta can do to a largely unvaccinated community that has lowered its guard. None of Missouri’s 114 counties has vaccinated more than 50 percent of its population, and 75 haven’t yet managed more than 30 percent. Many such communities exist around the U.S. “There’s very few secrets about this disease, because the answer is always somewhere else,” Edwards said. “I think we’re a harbinger of what other states can expect.”

[therappundit]

Best of the 1st Half: 2020′s Best Rap Projects (*so far*)...

“I’ve had, the halftime of my life...!”

*record scratch*

2020, WHAT THE F**K. 😳

Ohhh what a first half it has been. If 2020 ended today, it would still be one of the most historic years in a century...and NOT in a pleasant way. Years from now 2020 will be studied for the long-term damage caused by the COVID-19 pandemic, the potential breaking point (hopefully??) of this country’s ignorance to systematic racism and the need for a complete overhaul of our police departments, and of course, whatever the hell comes from the November Presidential election....and, not to mention whatever additional ‘tbd’ chaos rings in the second half of ‘20 that we haven’t even heard about yet!? These are trying times, folks.

My whole life, I have tried to use humor and entertainment to help me with processing high levels of stress and anxiety. This year, that process has felt more daunting than usual. I am writing less and less, and often find Twitter to be too dark of a place for me to navigate. It’s anything but a fulfilling “escape”. Still, I am constantly inspired by all of the new music that fills my headspace during life’s precious little moments, and it really keeps me grounded in the day to day. 

At the end of 2019, I wrote the below in one of my posts. It took me back to a special feeling that I had, at a moment when the future seemed more like an opportunity, rather than a worrisome question mark. I’m going to work towards finding that place again, and I wanted to re-share this because it speaks to how the love of any art can be a healthy reminder of what we have to be thankful for in our daily lives:

“Regardless of how you feel about this list, I hope that you visit (or re-visit) any one of these pieces of strong work and find the same level of enjoyment that I did. I loved so much rap music this year and I could not be more excited about what the future holds. On a personal note, in 2019 I found myself even more in love with my wife, feeling luckier than I have in a long time, more satisfied with my hobbies and passions, and above all else, more in awe of my child (and anyone that ever raised a child) than ever before. I became a father for the first time in 2019, so as my baby daughter continues to fill my heart, I am beginning to wonder what she will think of her father’s love for this art form that has brought him so much joy over the years…I suppose time will tell.”

This list is long, because I think the talent that went into these projects is worth your time (and I put a lot of thought into creating this list as well...I do not work in the industry or know anyone that does, and I do not have any real platform - I just do this because I love the music).

If you are an artist on this list, I want to thank you, because you helped me stay positive and focused on a brighter future that I hope will soon come to us all...because everyone has been through something this year, and we deserve better.  So salute to you and many, many others. 🙏🙏🙏

- THE Rap Pundit

The “Rules” for my list of the Best Projects of Q1-Q2 2020:

- the album/mixtape/EP/project/whatever you want to call it had to be released this year, by June 26, 2020

- the project must have at least 6 songs 

- these rankings are a combination of my own personal preference, my take on overall quality of the project (whether it speaks deeply to my sensibilities or not), and how the final product compares to other work from the artists’ peers that occupy the same lane/‘sub-genre’ of rap music

So here we go 👀...

1. The Price of Tea in China by Boldy James and The Alchemist

Sometimes the greatest albums are not the most ambitious or flashy, they are remembered based off the strength of artistic chemistry and execution. Basketball fans know the beauty of a perfectly timed chest pass to a teammate streaking towards the basket can be more impressive than a behind the back pass that’s simply done for the sake of showing everyone that you can do a fancy pass. Staying with that theme, The Price of Tea in China is The Alchemist doing his best John Stockton impression, serving to Boldy James’ Karl Malone, and by album’s end you realize that Boldy scored a quiet 40 points while making this rap shit look like an easy lay-up.

TPOTIC finds Boldy sprinkling every ounce of his Detroit seasoning into Al’s pot to yield one of the most Mobb Deep-esque collaboration albums since Mobb Deep was dropping albums. In turn, this project is not only Boldy’s greatest work, but it serves as a re-introduction of a veteran MC that is suddenly more relevant than ever.  Much like what Freddie Gibbs and Madlib did with 2019′s Bandana, this project is a great lesson on what MC and Producer chemistry can sound like when both parties are 100% on the same page when it comes to message, tone, and aesthetic goals. 

It would make sense that Boldy James would fall into the Griselda fold, because much like Westside Gunn, Conway The Machine and Benny The Butcher, he comes from a city with a rich rap music scene that still struggles to reach the level of exposure that the NYCs, L.A.’s, Chicago's and Atlanta’s have basked in for so long. He writes from a place of “been there, done that”, showing a rich attention to detail that separates his street tales from that of his peers in the same way someone telling a story second or third hand can’t match the level of detail that an eye witness has saved in the memory bank. Boldy has survived both real world and music business challenges to rise from the ashes of “hey whatever happened to so & so, he was about to blow” conversations to reach a new peak in his mid-30′s. He deserved this suite of incredible Alchemist soundscapes (Al is deep in his bag here, delivering some of his most low-key impressive instrumentals in years), and like his super-producer buddy, Boldy is looking down at us from atop an already prolific 2020 at its’ midpoint.  

I’m not sure anyone can match the chemistry that Prodigy and Mobb Deep had with The Alchemist, but in 2020, The Price of Tea in China delivers some of the most brutally subdued, occasionally humorous, stripped down rap records since P was throwing TV’s at us like he had nothing left to lose. If The Price of Tea in China isn’t holding the championship at year’s end, it still deserves to be mentioned as an impressive work by one of the strongest title-worthy unions running the pick and roll in the genre today.

2. Àdá Irin by Navy Blue 

Okay let’s be honest: the “sub-genre” that is often referred to as lo-fi rap music (whether you consider it an actual lane or not, I know you know what I’m talking about...which I suppose proves its’ existence, right?), is beginning to suffer from the same affliction that all other sub-genres tend to suffer from once the word is out that this is “the thing” that the kids find trendy right now. A lot of folks in this lane sound *exactly* the same to the average listener. I’m not even the average listener, and I often feel that way. The irony that comes with being part of the sound that’s supposed to be bucking the mainstream clone machine turning into a mini-clone machine itself, means that the window is in danger of closing to avoid over-saturation of the artists that are already thriving between the gravelly, whisper-welcoming walls of Soundcloud URLs and Bandcamp EPs being slid to their heady fanbase with zero promotion. So with that all being said...why give Navy Blue a chance?

Navy Blue lacks the name recognition of many of his peers (for now), but he has now been thriving in the lo-fi pocket for some time as both a MC and producer, a young artist that’s closely connected to the lane’s most famous figureheads (Earl Sweatshirt, and to some extent, Mach-Hommy), as well as less heralded trailblazers like MIKE and the whole sLUms collective. Sure you can check out Navy’s Soundcloud page to get a taste of his work, but with this Àdá Irin album, we don’t just hear raw snippets of a freshly discovered unsigned talent. With this album we hear Navy as a self-assured solo artist, capable of sharing an inspirational song with the likes of Ka and sounding like every bit of the veteran next to the iconic soft-spoken lyricist. This is a very, very impressive debut full length album that showcases the best that the (sub)genre has to offer: some experimentation, jazzy loops, the diary-like intimacy of words that sit like dust on an old basement book shelf, and the raw emotions that come from working through love, pain and loss in real time. In 2020 there may be nothing completely new under the sun, but it’s the aesthetic choices that Navy Blue makes with every verse and every instrumental that make Àdá Irin feel like a perfect balance of beauty and sadness. If you want to dip a toe in this water but you’re not sure you can get into the mumblecore-ish world of MIKE, MAVI, Medhane or Earl’s work from the past two years, this Navy Blue album might actually be the perfect intro.

3. A Written Testimony by Jay Electronica (featuring JAY-Z)

Not a lot of positive breaking news in 2020...but when Jay Electronica surprised Twitter with a few cryptic Tweets back in February, implying that he was dropping an album (and Jay-Z would likely be involved), the rap game was set ablaze with excitement, skepticism, disbelief, and hope (albeit with some measured caution there as well). 

This is something that fans, and arguably the entire rap world, had been clamoring for for a decade, many long since moving on believing that Jay Elec’s debut album had gone the way of Detox, sharing “1a & 1b” status as the most eagerly anticipated projects none of us seriously expected to hear. 

Then it dropped....and then it went. In a Twitter-run rap world, quality is too often measured by how long a piece of art stays within the “trending” mix, as opposed to...well, whether or not it’s actually good! The truth is, A Written Testimony is not just good, it’s very, very good, and while it’s not the “Illmatic 2″ that some may have been expecting, realistically it’s superior to what I imagined a new project from such a reclusive artist would sound like in 2020. If you at least try to table the expectations laid out when “Exhibit C” came out in 2009...I think you will find a project (it’s up to you whether or not you want to count this a “solo debut” or not, but at this point, it’s new Jay Electronica - can we just leave it at that??) stacked with memorable moments, quotable gems throughout, stellar production (this is one of the best produced projects of 2020 by far, not sure how/why this piece of the puzzle would receive anything less than acclaim), and some moments of questionable preaching made more palatable by a strong overall voice and package.

Jay Electronica raps with conviction throughout, and while the project feels brief, it lasts long enough to be more than a quick feeling, even if many feel that it’s not long enough to feel like a full album. If "Exhibit C" was the teaser then this is the redband trailer, flashing enough skill and details to resonate for far longer than its’ duration. Much has been said about the heavy hand of JAY-Z on most of the project’s 7 tracks, but let’s be clear, this is not Watch The Throne 2 (even though at points, it may feel like something along those lines). Yes, in impressive fashion, Hov comes through riding shotgun to show a deeper shade of one of his more complex dimensions, with many of his rhymes begging for dissection with every bar. However, AWT features a JAY-Z that’s rapping through Jay Electronica’s lens, not by any means where 4:44 or Everything Is Love left off. This is definitely a Jay Electronica album. AWT dives in and out of Jay Electronica’s beliefs in broad strokes that appear and disappear rather quickly, but even when certain verses raise more questions than provide answers, every song still has at least a handful of the gripping words that remind us of what made Jay Elec-Hanukkah sound like the chosen one in the first place (his tussle with writer’s block and hesitation to put out any art make for some of the projects most engaging moments).

If A Written Testimony is the last Jay Electronica album we ever here - which I truly hope it is not the case - it is still a memorable piece of work. So if you were one of the folks that moved on from it after the “surprise” of Jay finally dropping a project subsided, I hope you change that stance and revisit it once again.

4. Descendants of Cain by Ka

“Quiet and frigid disposition, growin' up in the cold /  Surprised I ain't get high from what I was low enough to behold /  Like when Pops shot at the neighbor's shop, put one in his head /  He knew how he grew me, threw me the gun, a hundred, and fled /  Didn't play, 'fore po' arose dispose of exhibit A / I was raised to age a few years in a day /  If not elite, didn't eat if you didn't pray /  As much as I heal, had to deal, all my scars are here to stay /  Our senseis spent days peddling /  Our heroes sold heroin.” - Ka, “Patron Saints”

He makes it seem almost too easy. If the writing wasn't so gripping, you might not even revisit it. Ka’s Descendants of Cain arrived with little fanfare, except for the collective awe of his humble but religiously devoted fan-base. The religious devotion is an important piece here, as Cain adds to Ka’s quietly impressive discography another strong album that leans on classic scribes as inspiration to spin poignant metaphors on Brooklyn street philosophy. 

This time, the classic work is the Christian Bible, and Ka being the brilliant MC/poet that he is, seems to have little trouble working with the medium to preach without sounding preachy, and wax familiar-sounding nostalgia over wax that sounds as dusty as it feels fresh, rich, and urgent. Producing much of the album himself, along with a few trusted collaborators, the album’s strength is in its’ density, as each song feels like it requires a pause to unpack every bar...and to be honest, that’s exactly the type of attention this work deserves. If you missed this one in the first half of 2020′s feverish dump of new releases, you need to remedy that immediately.

5. Pray for Paris by Westside Gunn 

If The Alchemist is the overall rap music MVP for his many contributions to 2020 thus far,  Westside Gunn may deserve at least a few honorable mentions. From becoming the ambassador of Buffalo New York to stepping up as an ambassador of the underground rap resurgence, I don’t think any other rap artist has done more to run with the torch that Roc Marciano has been waving for a damn decade than the Griselda mastermind. If you happened to hear Gunn name-dropping to Peter Rosenberg on Rosenberg’s long-standing Real Late show on Hot 97, you know exactly what I mean. Shouting-out close allies and lesser known peers alike, Gunn’s presence proudly announced the underground movement’s invasion of the highly known New York City radio station. It felt like ECW invading WWE’s Monday Night Raw all over again. Of course Gunn’s voice was met with more ears than usual during that interview, since that appearance came hot off the heels of the release of his much discussed side project turned full-blown album, Pray for Paris.

By now most fervent rap fans know the story behind the album (a project that miraculously arrived to completion while Gunn was suffering from the affects of coronavirus), but for many Pray for Paris is the introduction to the story of Griselda Records and the world that they revel in. If Conway the Machine and Benny the Butcher are responsible for the Griselda team’s grittiest street tales, Westside Gunn’s success leans on his ability to blur the line between all-too-real violence and cartoon violence, splattered with elite luxury references and shout-outs for his fellow wrestling addicts. The song titles are merely scattered trains of thoughts that may or may not have anything directly to do with a song’s actual meaning, it’s like naming your child ‘brunch in Williamsburg’ just because it was the last meal you happened to have that day. An audience brought up on Lil Wayne as the God MC may be completely lost at the appeal, but audiences brought up on Wu, DOOM and Sean Price know exactly what vibe Westisde Gunn is going for.

At times Gunn can come across as more of a talent curator than a stand alone MC, so if this is the album that takes Gunn to the next level as a rap star, it would make him the most unselfish rap star to come along in some time. A rapper doesn’t jump on an Alchemist produced track with the likes of Freddie Gibbs and Roc Marciano and expect to leave with anything but the Bronze medal. The same can be said for his chopped and screwed contribution to “Claiborne Kick”, which clearly belongs to Boldy James. That’s not to say that Gunn’s verse is a weak moment on any of the joints on Paris, but the fact that he consistently surrounds himself with high caliber writers confirms that he is well aware that the quality of the final product will be determined by the team involved, not just the artists’ name on the album cover.

For someone that considers himself more of an artist than a rapper, he continues to paint intriguing collages with every album, featuring him at the center of an ever-expanding portrait of MCs, producers, singers, designers, and dancers. Pray for Paris is a typical Griselda project that also happens to sport the potential of something larger than most of their fanbase ever imagined. Yes we get the dark backdrops, elite underground production, and quotables throughout, but we also get a few additional shades, as Gunn dabbles with a “beauty and the beast” dynamic that cleanly pairs his violent imagery with fashionista pomp and circumstance (which no doubt helped draw the likes of Wale and Tyler, the Creator to this project). But t’s all less of a solo album to push a mainstream solo career forward, and much more of a cannonball through the mainstream wall, just to allow some sunlight to shine on his people...and his city, for that matter - because best believe, Paris may be the inspiration behind the project but Buffalo, New York is still with him every step of the way. 

6. Alfredo by Freddie Gibbs and The Alchemist

A highly enjoyable surprise drop from two-thirds of the potent combination that gave us the fan favorite project that was Fetti (shout-out to Curren$y, though), Alfredo feels like the perfect treat to hold us over during these trying times. It feels rushed, but simultaneously sharp and activated. It has the feeling of a controlled experiment that was slapped together in separate rooms, rather than carefully curated by multiple artists hunched over the same mixer for days on end. Alfredo is more of a display of two power hitters putting on an impressive showing at a Home Run Derby, rather than the collaboration that has been slowly simmering for years...but that’s also part of the fun, because it feels like Al & Fredo (eh?) were just as excited to release it as we all were to hear it.

Neither party is reinventing the wheel here, but if you are going to have a rapper and a producer connect for an album of great rapping over great beats, you would be hard pressed to find a more natural pairing than these two. The Alchemist delivers with samples that channel the speakeasy jazz of an old piano, and Freddie is simply the king of hard-rap soul right now, so he excels on every song. There are moments of darkness, moments of hope, and moments of self reflection (Gibbs is a logical choice to swing haymakers back at cops abusing their power), all delivered by Freddie at a break-neck speed over Al's significantly less urgent production....as if Gibbs frantically spilled his guts to his buddy over the phone while Al was kickin’ back with a joint saying “uh-huh...yup, I hear ya man.” The final result is an effective one, if not a quick teaser of what a lengthier amount of collaboration time between the two might sound like. It should also be said that the guest verses on this album (especially those from Tyler, The Creator and Conway) took this album up a few spots on this ‘best of’ list. Alfredo is easily one of the strongest surprises of 2020.

7. Reasonable Drought by Stove God Cook$ and Roc Marciano

There is a tradition in the rap music biz that newer/younger artists are often shepherded along by more seasoned artists in order to insure that the less experienced artist is blessed with the built-in audience that comes with a co-sign. It doesn’t always work, but typically the initiation comes with a solid musical foundation on a debut project accompanied by a greener MC still finding his/her way. Not the case with Stove God Cook$, he is perhaps the most unexpectedly fresh MC to be cut from classic rap cloth since Griselda & Mach-Hommy began to build cult-like followings.

While Reasonable Drought (and seriously, how bold of a title is that for a debut!?) is blessed by the impressive production and mentorship of underground rap icon Roc Marciano, it truly is the lesser known MC himself that captures the imagination right from the get-go. When I say that in my life time, I cannot recall such a strong debut performance by a MC that I have heard virtually no work from prior to his 2019 emergence, with the help of minimal publicity/ad budget (if any? Cook$ was barely on social media until *after* his album had already been released) on his way to dropping an album with zero features...then you should take my recommendation very seriously. Fresh style, some of the most rewind-worthy quotables in recent memory (an Uncle Buck reference!? Bow down, people), and a new following built exclusively on the word of mouth of equal-minded folks that were blown away by a project many copped on a passing whim... it’s clear that this moment could be the beginning of an amazing, fascinating career. 

Similar to Roc Marciano before him, Cook$ possesses a rare flare with his wordplay and delivery that makes even the ugliest tales of coke dealing and disrespectful criminal activity sound like the colorful exploits of a post-Blaxploitation hero. He delivers every bar with the uber-specific word choice of Roc, but the outgoing swag of a Max B. The man that has people that never touched cocaine in their life singing that they’re “smelling like a brick right now”, is smelling like a winner in 2020 and beyond.

8. Battle Scar Decorated by Monday Night & Henny L.O.

Last call to board the Mutant Academy bandwagon! 

I have been saying that this deep underground collective of MCs & producers has been low key having a banner year all year long, and scrolling through this list you can see exactly what I mean. Henny L.O. is too good to be slotted as just a battle rapper, while Monday Night is far too strong of a presence to be considered a mere associate of the core Mutant team. When you think of Mutant Academy and their respective affiliated acts, think of them as a gathering of solo artists that happen to make dope rap music together, but all parties involved are capable of standing on their own two. I think that’s what consistently impresses me about their projects...hat, and the lack of filler material.

Along with a deep Rolodex of mostly under-the-radar talent, the hunger and confidence of a thriving Richmond, Viriginia rap scene is present on every track of Battle Scar Decorated. Much like many of my favorite albums of 2020, there is no reinventing of the wheel here, the triumph is in the execution. Monday & Henny tag in and out, each with the confidence that they have spit the best verse on the song before they have even finished. It’s that level of ability combined with a shocking amount of production talent that makes Battle Scar Decorated essential listening to anyone that wants to be reminded of a vibe that hasn’t been in abundance in the underground rap scene since L.A. in the late 90′s. It wouldn’t be fair to talk about how much I enjoyed this project without including the great producers involved, so a big s/o to: Sycho Sid, C.R.I.S.T.E.N, James Couch, Savvy, Heather Grey, and Ewonne.

9. Eastern Medicine, Western Illness by Preservation

Accompanied by a who’s who of underground hip-hop’s finest (Roc Marciano, Mach-Hommy, Your Old Droog, Quelle Chris, Nickelus F, Tree, Navy Blue, Billy Woods, Ka *and more* - I mean seriously!?), Preservation has assembled an impressively cohesive compilation album both sonically and thematically. 

Incorporating record samples from his travels in China, Eastern Medicine, Western Illness feels born in simplicity even though it is anything but a casual collection of dope verses over tightly wound production. A quietly gifted producer, Preservation knows how to squeeze the best out of his guests without shouting the results through the speakers, the choices are more subtle but yield a high impact and replay value. Listening to the project feels more like listening to a secret, unreleased project, because it’s hard to believe that this much talent would gift this much high caliber writing to a compilation of songs...although that was not uncommon in the 90′s and early 00′s (ah, I’m showing my old age again). Perhaps that’s a testament to Preservation’s vision, a DJ/producer with a relatively small catalog built on curated quality (see his fantastic 2015 collaboration with Ka on Days With Dr. Yen Lo). Eastern Medicine has enough talent involved that it could have been a worthy listen even if it was just as a hodgepodge of donated loosies, so the fact that the final product is so much more than that makes it an album that warrants a great deal of more attention.

10. The Allegory by Royce Da 5′9″

No accomplished lyricist makes life harder on himself than Royce Da 5′9″. Be it his tendency to cram personal observations and disclosures in and around his punchlines, or experimenting production wise, the Detroit veteran is intent on finding new ways to approach fine wine music, tossing more complex offerings into his catalog over the past few years. Things are no different with The Allegory. 

Not only did Royce once again pen an album that speaks to his ability to cope with his own past and present, he inserts himself in the producer chair as well, addressing the trials and tribulations of the increasingly problematic world around him, over backdrops crafted by only his hand a a few trusted peers. The effect is mostly successful, with the production exceeding the expectations of many (myself included), while the writing is at times both thought-provoking and in need of further exploration on Royce’s part. The guest features range from effective to scene stealing (not because Royce ‘s verse is outshined, but there are moments where it seems as if the guest is better suited over Royce’s own production than he is). If you’re Royce Da 5′9″ and you release an album titled The Allegory, no one should expect a simple quick fix of bars over easily digestible instrumentals. The highs come in abundance, and while the lows come in small trip-ups and the occasional skit that the listener probably could have done without, you get the sense that with some editing and further focus of his lofty goals, his sermons could have been sharpened into a more effective analysis of many of his topics (the music business, being black in America, history, conspiracy theories), resulting in an incredible album instead of a very good one. Nevertheless, it is all worth the ride to hear the latest work from one of rap music’s most gifted MC’s from the past decade. If The Allegory isn’t a home-run, it’s at the very least a strong base hit.

Top 50 (all belong in the Top 10-25, but...there’s only 25 spots in the Top 25, soooo):

11. Cold Water by Medhane

12. Shrines by Armand Hammer

13. Bag Talk by yungmorpheus & Pink Siifu

14. Try Again by ovrkast.

15. RTJ4 by Run The Jewels

16. Noise Kandy 4 by Rome Streetz

17. Innocent Country 2 by Quelle Chris

18. Weight of the World by MIKE

19. Sages by Henny L.O. & Ohbliv

20. Milestones by Skyzoo

21. Carpe Noctem by Big Ghost Ltd

22. Lake Water by SeKwence

23. At the End of the Day. by Fly Anakin

24. Sole Food by Deniro Farrar

25. The Oracle 3 by Grafh

26. The Blue Tape by Tree

27. lo&behold by lojii

28. Infinite Wisdom by Lord Jah-Monte Ogbon

29. FULL CIRCLE by Medhane

30. UNLOCKED by Denzel Curry & Kenny Beats

31. The Throwaways by The Opioid Era

32. Anyways by Young Nudy

33. PTSD (Deluxe) by G Herbo

34. Holly Favored by Monday Night & Foisey

35. THE GOAT by Polo G

36. Demon & Mufasa by Yhung T.O. & DaBoii 

37. The Face of Jason by ANKHLEJOHN

38. My Turn by Lil Baby 

39. No One Mourns the Wicked by Conway & Big Ghost Ltd.

40. Two4one by Jay Worthy 

41. Free Drakeo by Drakeo

42. Alone Time by YL

43. Assata by CV$ a.k.a. Con$piracy & Teller Bank$

44. Thug Tear by Big Kashuna O.G. & Monday Night

45. Ways and Means by Rasheed Chappell & 38 Spesh

46. IMMORTALKOMBAT by Al Divino & Estee Nack

47. Young & Turnt 2 by 42 Dugg

48. Sleeper Effect by Sleep Sinatra

49. Juno by Che Noir & 38 Spesh

50. LULU by Conway & The Alchemist

THE REST OF THE BEST (all belong in the Top 50 releases of 2020, but..what can I say, blame 2020 for being such a stacked year for music/events I guess):

Black Schemata by yungmorpheus,  The Smartest by Tee Grizzley,  Polly by the Powder Keg by Chuck Chan & Pad Scientist,  High Off Life by Future,  Gotham City Album by Plex Diamonds,  Memphis Massacre 2 by Duke Deuce, Poetic Substance by RIM & Vinyl Villain,  Styles David: Ghost Your Enthusiasm by Styles P,  MF Bloo by Bloo & Spanish Ran,  LSD by The Leonard Simpson Duo & Guilty Simpson,  Funeral by Lil Wayne,  RAW UNKNOWN by Spectacular Diagnostics,  Nezzie’s Star by Eddie Kaine,  ShrapKnel (self-titled),  The Bluest Note by Skyzoo & Dumbo Station,  WUNNA by Gunna,  Get Money Teach Babies by Heist Life & Spanish Ran,  Open Casket by Killer Kane,  6 Rings by Yung Mal,  The Beauty of It by Eto,  Meet The Woo 2 by Pop Smoke,  Fresh Air by UFO Fev & Statik Selektah,  Vito by Vince Ash,  GRIMM & EViL by GRiMM Doza,  RUDEBWOY by CJ Fly,  Rocket to Nebula by Killah Priest,  EVERYTHING by Kota the Friend,  NO Blade of Grass by V Don,  Eternal Atake by Lil Uzi Vert,  I’m My Brother’s Keeper by Yella Beezy & Trapboy Freddy,  Carhartt Champions by Tree Mason,  Viral Viral! by Dunbar,  Rowhouse Whispers by Ray West & Zilla Rocca,  Magneto Was Right #4 by Raz Fresco,  DUMP LIFE by Tha God Fahim, Jay NiCE & Left Lane Didon,  Burn One, Tap In, Zone Out by Dot Demo,  FNTG: From Niggaz to Godz by Squeegie O,   PANAGNL4E, Vol. 2 by Los and Nutty,  Death 2 All Haterz 2 by Rigz & Symph,  Thank You For Using GTL by Drakeo & JoogSzn,  Adjust to the Game by Larry June,  Martyr’s Prayer by Elcamino & 38 Spesh,  BETTER by Deante’ Hitchcock,  Attack of the Future Shocked, Flesh Covered, Meatbags of the 85 by $ilkMoney,  No Cosign Just Cocaine 3 by Ty Farris,  Hear No Equal by Chuuwee,  MSYKM by Tsu Surf,  Your Birthday’s Cancelled by Iron Wigs,  Spring Clean by Curren$y & Fuse,  Arctic Plus Degrees (The Sun Don’t Chill Allah) by Planet Asia & DirtyDiggs,  Psychological Cheat Sheet by Vic Spencer, Glass 2.0 by Meyhem Lauren & Harry Fraud,  Trust the Chain by Planet Asia & 38 Spesh, Director’s Cut (Scene Two) by Ransom & Nicholas Craven, and Son Of A Gun by Key Glock.

[teacherintransition]

When was the Last Time Everything was Purely Joyous?

August 31 was the two year anniversary of my son’s wedding; it was the last massive gathering of all parts of our family joined in celebration…

… then, the world went ever so incredibly mad.

I’ve been writing this series of articles for sixteen months; and for the most part the topics have dealt with the struggles of adjusting to retirement after thirty years of teaching. On occasion, I’ve written about anecdotal nonsense for fun, but several things I’ve avoided discussing are politics and Covid-19. These matters are quite delicate in our collective psyche and can create a sense of hostility that I try to avoid with people and within my mind. These topics have a place in this week’s article, but only on the periphery creating a setting for the observations. This was not planned as my last two articles have been stream of consciousness pieces with humorous undertones. The birth of this article stemmed from a phone conversation I had late last night with my brother, Brian, swinging under the tree with my bulldog Chunky by my side. What a setting for the muse to help me see the significance of August, 31.

Brendan Joel Rich married Michaela Ackerman on August 31, 2019 near Lake Conroe. The venue was beautiful and every detail accounted for in the planning. Both Brendan and Michaela were dedicated, successful public servants: Brendan a empathetic coach and Michaela, a compassionate RN. Lifelong friends and family made up both of their wedding parties. The service was beautiful… Annie, my wife’s mother, somewhat frail but truly focused was escorted to her seat of honor on the arm of her first grandson, my oldest son Joshua Keith Rich. Annie was soon to turn ninety two and had never missed any event of importance that involved her grandchildren: Josh, Kyle, Erik, Rachel and Brendan. The pride she radiated at being escorted by her thirty five year old grandson and seeing the smile of Brendan and Erik brought a flow of tears from those congregated for this wedding. It was a magical event…storybook…it couldn’t have been more emotional… more perfect.

The food was marvelous and the open bar delighted any epicurean. The music was loud and like Dick Clark used to remark on American Bandstand, you could definitely dance to it. Brendan’s older brother Josh and his oldest friend, Josh Keith gave sublime speeches that drew out sentiment deep from all of our hearts. My nephew Matt Rich was with his fiancé and their little boy Asher. This young man was “Saturday Night Fever, Grease, and Fame” rolled into an eighteen month old body and stole the show. As expected a trove of pictures were taken of the various branches and new additions to our family. Everyone was dressed immaculately and the photos were magnificent. One in particular had my wife and sons joined with the newly wed Mrs. Michaela Rich, Annie, Joshua’s fiancé, Brian and his wife Mishelle, his sons Cory and Matt with Rachel and Asher. It was an image of pure joy. After the photo, I texted the phone photo from my phone to the only cousin of the Rich family I can tolerate: Heather Rich-Matteson…she was my crazy doppelgänger. She replied that it looked like we were having a blast and wished she were there. I wished she was there too. For in that brief fleeting moment, everything was, dare I say it, …perfect.

The world will humble you.

In a few months, the year 2020 began and the family pictures of countless families would undergo tragic pain and loss. In late February, our world began to turn upside down and would continue to tumble for the foreseeable future. My cousin Heather, forty four years old, a fantastic mother, a loving wife passed away unexpectedly as we were heading to, ironically enough, the wedding of a family friend. I don’t intend to mark every horrible loss that took place in the interim from Brendan and Michaela’s wedding and the current moment; suffice it to say there are loved ones missing from those pictures. Annie is no longer with us, my beautiful nephew Matt is gone, Heather is gone, Donnel has passed away and numerous other friends, colleagues, nieces, brothers and on and on have succumbed to the virulent plague wreaking havoc in our world. Every family has a similar story to tell and on it goes.

The world will go on.

There have been many dark moments since that day. Perspective is a pliable, subjective instrument that can alter moments of peace into turmoil and moments of turmoil into visions of hope. Nothing is static… time goes forward and you go with it or get left. Brendan and Michaela celebrated and good wishes were sent. Everyone made acutely and painfully aware over the last two years that life and joy are fleeting things. It’s all a matter of perspective…and sitting there, talking with my brother, I chose to change my perspective. My brother lost his son in February earlier this year…he lost a part of his soul. Science teaches us that there is a balance that occurs in natural things. What balanced such a overwhelming loss? Brian knows that his brother and his brother’s family will be there for him in any way to fill the gap. He knows that his immediate family is strong beyond measure. His daughter, Lauren leads and lends strength to her dad. His son Cory embarked on a soul searching journey to bring healing not just for himself but for others. Matthew gave him a parting gift; a beautiful granddaughter name Lynnox who looks like Matt. His coworkers held him up and perhaps in ways he never knew before, he wasn’t alone.

My wife Kim, her sister Nancy and brother Frank lost their true north in June of ‘20 when Annie passed quietly in her sleep. Kim had Annie for fifty three years, Nancy for sixty eight years and Frank for seventy years. That is an incredibly long time to have your mother… a mother who exuded love at every turn. For awhile, they were lost like I had never seen them. The wound healed and emotional scar tissue took its place. There would be no vacuum here; these three somewhat aged group of siblings formed bonds that can never be broken. They love each other more that I thought possible and it’s beautiful. Siddhatta Gotama Buddha teaches us the “First Noble Rule” is that in this life we will experience loss and pain…this is the unavoidable rule. Luckily for us, the Buddha moved on to the “Second Noble Rule.” This rule teaches us that we are to joyfully participate in this world of loss and pain. “Joyfully?“ This will require some serious perspective and realize that all things are in a constant state of flux. In this state of flux or as William Cullen Bryant called it a “Flood of Years,” the memories are in constant connection with new experiences.

So, how do I celebrate a joyous anniversary amidst incalculable loss? We joyfully acknowledge our new found strength; our newly discovered bonds with family and friends and we acknowledge that the world can take from you but in balance…will give in good measure. My youngest son has overcome obstacles and fallen in love with a lovely girl. My nephew Cory embarked on a journey of healing. My brother has a new granddaughter as mentioned earlier and my wife and I have a new grandson…Greyson. Nancy, my sister in law, is enjoying the pure pleasure of being a “Nana” for the first time. Lauren is off to California; Brendan and Michaela just bought their first home. Things are good two years later; but we know that won’t last. We joyfully know that, together, we can endure tragedy and know the healing flood will refresh us. Hang on … it’s a helluva ride.

[petri808]

Red Strings Cannot Be Broken

@yatoriweek2020​ Soulmates prompt. Gomen, gomen, it’s totally rushed and I since I suck at action scenes, fair warning it’s minimized as much as possible lol and I can’t help but think angst when I write this ship ;-; Aged up, Hiyori is 19. Total idk canon divergence.

Just as Yato, Bishamon and their Shinki’s reach the scene, Father cackles and drives a katana through Hiyori’s corporeal body. “You’re all such gullible idiots! She was always your weakness son. Three years we’ve done this dance and I was always one step ahead.”

The young woman stumbles backwards and collapses, holding onto her stomach. A reddish stain forming, seeping through the fabric and growing in diameter every second that passes by.

“So now what are ya gonna do?” the grinning sorcerer questions. “For betraying me, I will take away everything you love!”

“You sonofabitch!” The stray god screams and makes a move to rush forward.

“There’s no hope for her, see.” The man points the sword back at the dying girl with a menacing smiles. “Poor girl, if only she hadn’t met you.”

“Yato,” Bishamon yells as she takes off towards Father. “You get to Hiyori!”

A battle ensues between the goddess of war and the sorcerer as Yato rushes to the young girls side. He picks her up, cradling her body in tears. “Hiyori, don’t die on me, please!” But it really was too late, for her breathing had ceased and he could find no pulse. “Fuck!!!”

“Yato what are we gonna do?!” Yukine shakes him. “W-We can’t let her just die!” The poor boy was still in agony over his time of betraying the stray god and now the guilt of losing Hiyori was slowly taking hold. Nora stays quiet, hugging to the boy to keep him from doing anything rash.  

“There’s only one thing I can think of…” the man mumbles. As the fight around them escalates, the pair watch a puffkine appear above the body.

Reading off his master, Yukine’s eyes widen. “I-Is that a good idea?!”

“I don’t know.” Her soul didn’t appear as an ayakashi, so that was a promising sign. Yato places her body back on the ground and stands before the floating spirit. There was no way to know for sure what would happen and no time to think it through. Performing his spell, he turns her into a regalia, but instead of giving her his family name of ne, keeps the human name Hiyori and makes her vessel name Majoki.

They watch as the woman they knew as Hiyori manifests, standing before them. “W-Where am I?” She questions the trio. “Who are you?”

Yato grabs hold of her by the arms to keep her from turning around and seeing her body too soon. He smiles. “I know this must be confusing right now, but I just want to tell you before it’s too late…” he leans his forehead against hers and closes his eyes. “I love you Hiyori. Soon I pray, it’ll all make sense again, but just remember I love you.” He whispers something the others two couldn’t hear, then pulls away and kisses her hand before releasing them.

He then turns to his Shinki. “Nora, make her see,” is all he quietly says, indicating to the girl to break the seal of the Gods greatest secret.

“But Yato, that might destroy her.”

“I pray it won’t. Please keep her safe for me Nora.” He places a final kiss on Hiyori’s confused cheek. “Come Sekki, we must finish Father right here and now before he does any more damage.”

Yukine transforms into a sword and the pair rush off to assist Bishamon. The boy asks Yato what he’d told Hiyori before they’d left and the God simply answered with, ‘remember me.’ But there was no time to question further. They needed to focus for Father was as skilled as any of them and a powerful sorcerer that could conjure and control ayakashi to attack them. This would be a fight to the death, either theirs or his.

Nora pulls Hiyori away behind some trees, and away from the current fighting. She hesitates for a moment unsure of exactly how to accomplish her task. As Chiki, she could wield the liberation spell that broke the secret, but without it, she would have to trigger it. The strange part was, normally telling a Shinki their true name would do just that, but Yato had given the woman back her real name and it didn’t do anything. Hiyori just appeared to have no memories of her past life.

“Do you have any idea who I am?” Nora questions, but receives a ‘no’. “How about Yato, the one who just spoke to you?” Again, the woman pauses, then shakes her head slowly no. “Yukine? The boy?” Nothing.

“That man… that man said he loves me. He sounds sincere, but I don’t remember anything. Were we in a relationship?”

“Sort of. You’ve been together for I think 3 years now. Inseparable, and you loved him too.”

“I did?”

Nora nods her head. “You… you died trying to save him.”

Hiyori’s eyes widen at those words. She was dead?! “I’m dead?!” Her hands fly up to her head, palms flattened against the sides as a suddenly whirling sound rustles in her brain. The noise grew, a myriad of voices, images hurtling through her mind so quickly, she couldn’t process what was happening to her. “No, no, no!”

The young girl grabs hold of the woman’s arms to keep her steady as she starts to shake uncontrollably. “Your name really is Hiyori. Hiyori Iki. You saved the god Yato once from getting hit by a bus and it turned you into a hanyou. After that you two became inseparable. You were with him when you found Yukine.”

“I don’t understand any of this!” Tears pour down the woman’s face. She was utterly confused at what this girl was telling her and yet somehow knew it was all true. How did she know it was true?!

It was a good sign to Nora that Hiyori wasn’t transforming into an ayakashi yet, but as the woman’s mind fought to unlock the secrets of her life, the pain appeared to be excruciating and the risks of being consumed were great. When she herself had learned the truth about her life, for some strange reason it never affected her and that was why she could wield liberation. Yukine too surprisingly had come through the process without completely breaking down.

“Over time, you and Yato grew closer and closer, and you helped him a lot. I believe it’s because of you that he’s completely changed for the better. You and Yukine are his family. Father, the guy they’re fighting now, he’s trying to destroy it all and he killed you because he knew your death could kill Yato too. But the only way to bring you back in a way, was to turn you into a regalia. That gives a lost spirit purpose again.”

Hiyori wanted to scream and run away. This was madness. A god, spirits, bringing back people from the dead?!! She could hear the battle raging just out of her sightline. And this girl. “Who are you then?”

“I’m Nora, one of Yato’s regalia like you. He calls me his little sister. We used to work for Father in the old days but we’ve both been betrayed by him. Yato realized it sooner than I did, but that man was only using us to wage his war with the Gods of Heaven.”

Great now Gods of Heaven as in plural. Hiyori’s head was spinning, and she felt like throwing up. “I love you Hiyori. Soon I pray, it’ll all make sense again.” Is what the man had said and even though her brain was not comprehending everything going on, her heart was telling her to remember it all... To remember... Hiyori gasps, “Remember me…”

A sharp pain shoots through her head, so she cradles it in her hands from the sudden spike. ‘Remember me…’ Hiyori cries out once and her vision goes black.

Hiyori Iki, 19 years old. Born to Sayuri and Takamasa Iki, brother of Masaomi, and born on June 28th. Everything about her life flashes as images in her minds eye. How she’d met Yato at the age of 16 through a near-death experience. Becoming a hanyou, The Far Side, the Gods, everything was rushing back in the blink of an eye.

As quickly as it began, it ended, and a final memory paused like on a movie screen. It was an image of Kofuku holding up the matching making tablets… ‘I— remember…’ Her feelings for Yato had started long before the god of poverty had interceded, but perhaps, that goddesses intervention truly sealed their bond eternally in a red string of fate? ‘That’s right…’ she’s starting to put the connections together. Learning who she really was should have driven her insane. It hurt, but…

Hiyori’s eyes open and finds herself lying on the ground with Nora kneeling beside her.

“Oh, thank the Kami’s you’re back,” the girl breathed out a sigh of relief. “I didn’t know what was going on, you just suddenly collapsed again.”

“Thank you, Nora,” she sits ups slowly. “I-I remember who am.”

A strange, invigorating energy was thrumming inside of Hiyori and she wondered if this is what the weapon aspect of a Shinki felt like. But Yukine had never mentioned feeling an odd sensation, and even weirder, she didn’t sense a regular weapon in her soul. The name Yato had given her was not of a normal tool but matched her abilities even while she was still alive.

She turns to Nora, “I need to help Yato. We need to help Yato.”

“There’s nothing we can do unless he calls for us,” the young girl replies. “And he probably wouldn’t want you anywhere near the fighting.”

Hiyori lifts up her hands and focuses on them, reaching deep within her very essence and feeling the energy burning inside of her. Nora watches in fascination and downright amazed surprise when they begin to glow. She’d become the perfect weapon to defeat a sorcerer.

“I don’t care what Yato thinks,” the woman steels her resolve. “He needs my help.”

With Nora following close behind, Hiyori rushes over to where the Gods were fighting. They see others had joined in the battle. Kofuku & Daikoku. Tenjin, Ebisu, and several others that Father had not yet brought to their knees. Amaterasu and Heaven’s army had already suffered devastating losses prior to this event, and this fight with his son, was Father’s last obstacle. The two girls stand at the top of a hill surveying the battle, and when Yato senses them he turns to look.  

That lapse in focus also catches Father’s attention. He breaks away from one attack and rushes towards Yato.

“Call my name now!!” Hiyori screams to the stray God.

He hadn’t planned on letting Hiyori anywhere near this fight, but overwhelming energy flooding off his Shinki was something he’d never heard of or felt in his life. Without another second of hesitation, he screams, “Majoki!!”

The flash of light from the vessels transformation was not only blinding but sent out a wave of energy that sent Father flying backwards from the shockwave. Even the other Gods stopped what they were doing in confusion. No new weapon manifested in Yato’s hand, only a red tasseled cord wrapped loosely around his neck.

Whatever miko abilities Hiyori had in life were now amplified ten-fold as a Shinki. Her connection to Yato and their love for one another transcended death because of their tied fate and as his regalia turned her into his strongest weapon against this kind of foe. How do you fight a sorcerer? With sorcery.

“Whoa what the hell powers does she have now?!” Yato hears Yukine asking him in his mind. “Even I can feel her!”

“Y-Yeah, even I’m surprised,” the God answers back. It all felt a little strange because it was so different than any other Shinki he’s ever had. Hiyori’s powers didn’t flow from a tool… Yato became the tool.

“Bind his powers Yato. He is nothing without his magic.”

“But how?! That’s a Shinki’s ability not a Gods.”

“You shall wield us,” she responds in his mind with no hesitation. “All you need to do is strike Father once and I will send the power through Sekki. Once he’s wounded my magic will seep through to affect the spell. Then you all attack for he will be a mere human.”

“We can do this Yato,” Yukine responds as well. “As a team.”

“No,” the God breathes out with a smirk, “as a family. Hiki!!!” He pulls his third vessel into the fray.

“Yato what are you thinking, three of us will sap a lot of your energy,” Nora scolds the God.

“Well then we better make this quick!”

“Guys!” He screams at the other Gods. “Let’s back him into a corner fast! I got a plan!”

After being thrown back, Father scrambled to his feet ready to take on the next challenger. With Yato’s call of collaboration, God after God along with their Shinki’s levy a multitude of attacks at the sorcerer forcing him into a defensive. There’s just too many things coming at him to counter. He tries to call ayakashi’s to his aid, but they are either killed off quickly or Hiyori and Nora combine their energies to control the spirits.

Finally, the constant barrage is taking a huge toll on the sorcerer and everyone can sense it. The male is using a significant amount of energy to fight back, and it’s rapidly depleting. A solid blow from Bishamon sends him hurtling into the trunk of a tree. He hits his back hard against it and falls straight down. Then, before he can get to his feet, Yato sweeps in with two solid strikes by Chiki and Sekki, cutting a deep gash over the sorcerers torso.

Father screams in searing pain as he feels the burn of Hiyori’s magic soak into his flesh. “No! No! No! this cannot be!!” It travels outward from the wound until it encompasses his entire body, binding his magic, and sapping any ability beyond a physical confrontation. He sinks to the ground, clutching to his chest and abdomen, in agony. “That bitch!”

“Oi,” Yato narrows his eyes and puts the blade of Sekki to the man’s throat, “don’t call her a bitch just because she out classed you.” It was starting to dawn on the stray God that his meeting Hiyori truly had a purpose.

The man grits his teeth as adrenaline from pain and anger fires through his nerves. “Fuck you!!”

“Tch. You thought you knew me, us so well that you thought you could manipulate things. But you never did old man. Your hate ends now.”

At that moment, the war goddess grabs the fallen sorcerer by the fabric of his yukata and yanks him to his feet. “Heaven has rendered their full judgement upon you. Amaterasu will make your death a painful one I’m sure.” With the help of some of Heaven’s soldiers, the mortally wounded sorcerer is flown away to receive his divine punishment.

Yato releases his Shinki’s and collapses from exhaustion. Thank the Kami’s it was over because he wasn’t sure how much longer he would have lasted. There would be a lot of explaining to do but it could wait. First things first.

“Yukine, Nora, could you two wait for me at Kofuku’s?” the stray god requests of his regalia. “I need to talk to Hiyori.”

“Don’t do anything else crazy!” Yukine shakes his finger, scolding the man.

“Come on,” Nora pushes at her friend. “I doubt she’d let him.”

Once the pair is leaving, he turns back to the woman sitting patiently beside him. “Hiyori…” he felt guilty that he wasn’t able to save her life, and now wasn’t sure what to say. “I’m sorry I failed you.”

“I don’t blame you,” she takes his hand. “It was my fault for getting in the way.”

“But Father was right, if only you’d never met me… o-or if I’d cut your ties sooner, you’d still be alive.”

“Yato, listen to me.” She cups his cheeks in her hands and holds his gaze. “Do not blame yourself for any of this. I made my choices and you honored my wish. Am I sad that my family won’t be able to see me anymore, of course? They’ll be heart broken, but we both know this was the only way to make my final wish come true because no matter what,” her voice softens into a smile, “I love you too.”