#he leaves mid january and while he is trying to get as many things done as he gone | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bimsha · 2 years

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Series : 100 WAYS TO SAY I LOVE YOU

Inspired by: 100 ways to say I love you

Fandom: Tokyo Revengers

Pairing: Haurchiyo Sanzu x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, new year, winter, temple visits, lucky charms

Tw: mentions of rehabilitation

Word count: 1.7k

The faint rustle as the breeze passed through the scattered trees and the soft tinkle of the golden bells hanging upon the entrance, were the only sounds catching your ears. The temple stood in front of you in its solitary glory. Your palms were pressed together as you prayed for good fortune, a better future where you and him could live in peace.

“Y/n” Sanzu’s voice said as you opened your eyes and looked at him. He was standing beside you, his hands on his side, ears tinted red as the cold January air bustled around. “Want to go there?” He gestured towards the series of ponds behind the temple. They were famous among the visitors.

Any other day, this place would be bustling with children running from one pond to the other, pointing at the koi fishes dipping under the round lotus leaves. Couples holding hands as they burned incense inhaling the fragrant aroma. Families buying lucky charms from the nearest stalls to hang upon their houses for good fortune. But it was late January, after the New Year many didn’t visit this place until the next festival time.

“Sure” You said. He reached for your hands unconsciously and hesitated. A flash of reluctance passed through his eyes. You smiled at him reassuringly before lacing your fingers with his. Pressing your cold palms together trying to elicit some warmth.

You two made your way towards the ponds — not frozen despite the coldness in the surrounding. The lotus leaves covered the surface of the pond, giving them only a glimpse of the bright Koi fishes swimming under them. “They are so beautiful” You said, not knowing what else to do to break this ominous silence between them.

It had been like that the past few days. Sanzu had just returned from the rehabilitation centre. After months of therapy and various programmes he was allowed out of that place as a healed, respected citizen. But many of his former friends had gone through their own ways, and most of the people in his life still looked at him with hatred and disgust igniting in their eyes. It would take a while for them to forget everything and allow him to live and heal. You blamed no one. You knew after the things he had done, it was hard for them to give him a second chance.

Sanzu’s grasp on your hand tightened, “Why did you wait?” He asked, breaking your thoughts. It seemed like a question burning upon his mind since the moment he saw you waiting outside the centre, ready to take him home.

You shrugged, “I said I will.” You waited for two whole years and even skipped the new year celebrations this year because you wanted to celebrate it with him. “I promised you”

Sanzu gave you a tight-lipped smile as if he could not believe it. “You did, but I thought you might’ve moved on” His eyes were clouded with unresolved emotions as he watched the fish, swimming around in seamless freedom. “You didn’t have to wait for someone like me, you know?”

“Why should I? You promised you’d be a clean man and walk out that centre sober.” It was upon your request he decided to get help. You wanted a life with him, you really did but you knew as the man he was, he wouldn’t be able to lead his own life. He just needed the push and to save your relationship, he agreed. “And now look at you Haru, you look different but still the same, the good things I mean”

He allowed himself to smile this time, “Thank you for everything”

You grinned, squeezing his hand as you leaned against his tall, strong body. “Anytime, Haru. Anytime”

You two finally decided it was the time to leave. But before that, both of you stopped by a small stall that sold lucky charms. The seller — a man in his mid-thirties looked as if he was about to pass out from boredom of the slow day, looked upon them with a smile and gestured at the wooden board consisting of charms in different colours and designs. “This one’s a charm for couples” He said, flashing them a look. “It’s really effective”

You two shared a glance with a smile, “Well” Sanzu said, dropping a few coins to the open palm of the seller. “We’ll take two”

After that, you two decided to walk along the slippery path leading to the main street. The previous night snowfall had left patches of white across the road. Some of it melted as trickles of water turned into muddy puddles in front of them.

Sanzu was examining the lucky charm, “Do you believe in this stuff?”

You shrugged, “Don’t know. Might as well take our chances”

Sanzu raised his brow, “Really?”

You grinned, throwing your hands in the air in excited glee, “Well, here’s for a happy future” Your voice resonating through the empty road only disturbed by the faint sound of the car tires and horns down the city.

Sanzu nudged you with an exaggerated eye roll, “You made your point-” You ungracefully cut him off by almost slipping off the road and tumbling face first into a puddle. Sanzu reached out of pure reflex and grabbed your elbow before you could take the fall.

“Jesus, Y/n. Watch your step” He said, bewildered and baffled, worried that you might’ve gotten hurt.

“Bless your quick reflexes” You said as he let go of your elbow. Sanzu huffed reaching down to flick your forehead. You jut out your bottom lip in mock annoyance.

“Still the same clumsy Y/n, aren’t you?”

“I’ve gotten better” You defended, crossing your arms. Sanzu raised his brow, “No, really” You said again, “It’s just this road is slippery”

“Sure” He said, dragging off the last syllable a bit too loud. “Come here” He extended his hand and wrapped it around your waist, pulling you close. You could feel his warm body against yours chasing away the coldness of the winter. “Now hold on tight until we go down this road”

“Yes, sir” You grinned, wrapping your own arm around him, feeling the familiarity seep in. This is how you two used to be back then. Sweet and affectionate. Speaking with unrestrained freedom. He had his faults and he was willing to correct them for you. He didn’t want to let you go. So, he complied and decided to make his life right.

You pressed your face to the side of his jacket, inhaling his comforting scent. Everyone deserved a second chance. And this man, who was willing to go any lengths just to protect the love you had in between each other deserved it more than the most.

So you held onto him tight. Listening to his voice nagging you about your clumsy nature, knowing there was no need for I love you’s. It was all the more in that worry, that dedication and those sapphire eyes, looking at you as if you’re the center of his universe.

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i-make-questionable-choices · 3 years

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And Then There Were Two

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Blood, Injury, Character Death (alluded to).

Word Count: 1,655

Summary: Regardless of how hard Dean tries to keep everyone safe, some things are still out of his control.

A/N:I have been sitting on this one since fucking January, it was complete, it was edited and for whatever reason my brain was like: don't post it. So here I am finally overcoming that bullshit to tell you that one: I am alive. And two: this is going to be the start of a crap load of angsty oneshots because this is the first square on my Bad Things Happen Bingo card: Amputation. As always, please leave kudos or a comment if you enjoyed!

“Y/N!”

Being weightless was strange, your stomach lurched as your body was whipped backwards. It was almost like being on a rollercoaster when the seatbelt wasn’t super snug and you kinda got jostled around a bit.

Except this time wasn’t just a tiny bit scary. This time was terrifying.

You hit the rocks with a sickening crunch, and there was no doubt in your mind that you had broken most of your ribs. You could almost declare yourself lucky - the angle at which you had hit the wall had saved your head from being crushed like an empty soda can; and you simply tumbled down to the ground - almost.

The rocks in this area were prone to crumbling, and a net had long been installed on the cliff face to keep any of the loose cracks formed by erosion from breaking off completely and served as just an extra second for anything below.

When you had collided with the wall, however, the weight of your body sliding against the rocks had severed the net.

And the boulders came crashing down.

“No!”

Deans second cry of anguish was accompanied by the agonized screech of the burning wendigo; Sam had managed to get close enough with the blow torch in that brief moment of chaos to set the monster alight.

It was as though hell were raining down on you, the dust from rock hitting rock eluding your eyes as you tried to heave yourself up and out of the way, only for a softball sized chunk to hit you in the back and send you sprawling since more.

And then you couldn’t move.

The pain was unbelievable.

A screech ripped through you, loud enough to be heard as the final boulder hit the ground with a deafening crash. Loud enough to make Deans heart freeze in his chest.

Loud enough to make Sam’s drop into his stomach.

Their safety disregarded, the pair rushed towards where they had last seen you, shoving what rocks they could to the side with hysterical strength.

If Sams heart had dropped to his stomach before, he didn’t know where it was when he saw you.

The back of your shirt was tattered, soiled with blood and grime from the rocks where it had scraped across. One particularly large gash where the small chunk of rock had hit you.

As he took in the limpness of your form, he barely noticed Dean come to his side, trying to take in what neither of their minds wanted to accept that they were seeing.

Your arm, from the middle of your forearm and down, was pinned under one of the largest boulders from the collapse.

Already there was blood trickling towards you, small snakes leaving the shelter of the rock to pool against your face.

Dean threw himself against the rock, unable to grasp that even with the two of them, the rock that pinned you was simply too large to be moved.

Sam was too shaken to stop his brother, tentatively, he brushed your hair out of your eyes, relieved to feel the faint fluttering of your breath against his skin, and to see your eyes closed, you were, at the very least, not in pain.

He looked up at his brother.

Dean had collapsed against the boulder, in the faint moonlight, Sam could see tears budding in the corners of his eyes, mimicking those he felt himself.

“Dean-”

He stopped himself, loathing the way his voice cracked, hating the resignation to the inevitable.

“I know.”

Sam wondered if he hated that even more; Dean would always protest when any plan of theirs put one of you in harms way. He would always insist that there could be more options, even if that might drag things out so long as you and Sam were safe.

They both new there were no alternatives here.

Dean crouched beside you, shrugging off his jacket, then his flannel, the former of which he covered you with and the later of which he began to wrap around your arm. Accepting the stick from his brother he looped into the fabric, finishing off the tourniquet.

Neither brother bothered to check the time to ensure it didn’t stay on to long. There was no point.

Hesitantly, Sam retraced his steps to where he had dropped his knife. It had fallen from his hand as he ran towards you. When he had first gotten it he had appreciated the sedation at the end. Not to much to make it stick itself in a monster and not want to pry out, but enough to bite through the bones.

He hated that now, even though he knew he should be grateful, it was their only way of getting you out from that boulder.

Dean had hardly moved when he returned, still crouched over you, but one hand now cradled your cheek while the other rested underneath your head as if to protect you from the hard ground.

Sam could hardly keep his voice from cracking when he addressed his brother.

“You’re gonna have-”

“Don’t.”

Deans voice was so final, so flat, that Sam sagged from the power of but one word.

Without Sam having to finish, Dean moved his hands to steady you, one resting on the back of your shoulder, the other one your mid-back. The spurt of blood at the first saw of the knife was sickening, and Dean had to turn away lest he throw up. His heart seized in his chest as you tensed under him, and he steeled himself to hold you down to keep your thrashing at bay.

Your eyes shot open first, darting about before they fixed on his face, then on Sam’s blade that was sawing through your upper arm. As your body lurched, Dean prepared himself for a scream, only to have you vomit what little snack you had eaten before the hunt, and they pass out once more.

The sound Sams blade made as it sawed through your bone was spine chilling and part of Dean was relieved when it was over, the other part was even more inclined to vomit.    Barely seconds later, your body shifted as the knife severed the last of your skin and what was left of you arm slumped towards the ground.

Sam, who had discarded his own flannel alongside Dean, reached it over and wrapped it around and over the stump; he too could feel a sickness rising his stomach, the reality of what he did hitting him like a freight train.

As Dean scooped you up, gently maneuvering you over his shoulder, he met Sams eyes for the first time since the rock slide. Just like himself, Sam had silent tears racing down his cheeks, despair visible in the depths of his eyes. Dean longed to reach out and hug him, but more pressing matters were at hand.

The pace they made as they rushed towards the Impala was astounding. The hike out had taken them almost and hour and a half. It only took them half the time to make it back to the car. The whole time Sam had has his phone out, searching for a signal to call 911, Dean had tuned him out 4 minutes ago when he had started talking to the dispatcher.

They were to meet the ambulance on the way to the hospital. Fortunately the road out to Deadman’s Cliff was quiet and Dean didn’t have to worry about how fast he went as he pushed the Impala to her limits.

Sam, who was riding in the back keeping, albeit pointless, pressure on your arm, and checking that your were, in fact, still alive, had had to brace himself against the roof and seats a few times as Dean burned around corners much faster then they were meant to be taken. Sam would later wonder how they hadn’t crashed in those moments.

Only when they heard the wailing of the ambulance, nearly an hour from where they had began their drive, did Dean ease up on the gas. Fortunately for them, the ambulance was about ten kilometers down road, so they had just enough time to make a safe stop without the car flipping over.

It seemed unreal as the paramedics leapt from the ambulance, the bright lights of the interior felt fake as he watched them unload the gurney for Sam to set you on, they strapped you in, protecting your neck with a cervical collar before pushing you in. He hardly could process time as he watched Sam climb into the ambulance the doors shutting as Sam turned back to look as him and then the ambulance sped away, leaving a broken man standing in the middle of the highway.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, it could have be seconds, or minutes, maybe even hours; but eventually Dean snapped back into reality. He could no longer hear the wail of the ambulance, or see the bright lights even on the vast expanse of plains. He could feel the tear stains on his cheeks though, could feel the aching in his heart, and the terror in his mind. As he made his way to the Impala, he could feel a strange numbness seep through him.

He and Sam had done all they could to help you, but you had still gone almost and hour without basic wound care, resulting in a high chance of infection. The blood loss and the shock wouldn’t help you fight it off; and you had gone two whole hours without any professional help. Even then, the paramedic’s were still limited in what they could do to help you. And with a sinking feeling, Dean realized that your death could be coming far too soon.

It was too much, with so many feelings left unsaid, and so many more coursing through him, Dean Winchester sat behind the wheel, and wept.

Supernatural Tags: (open)

Dean/Jensen Tags: (open)

@akshi8278

Bad Things Happen Bingo Tags: (open)

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phynali · 3 years

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so not to ruminate on things that vex me, but the past 2 or so months have been kinda shit, and i’m trucking along and there absolutely are high points and good things and joys that balance some of this out, but i need to vent out some of the negative emotions somewhere to get ‘em out. so i guess i’m doing that here because -

we’re in lockdown#6 where i live (state of victoria) and it’s hard, this yo-yo of restrictions and swinging in and out of one lockdown after another.

for those who understandably won’t know, what we call lockdown here means not just restaurant and commercial closures and mandatory working from home unless you’re in an industry where that’s impossible -- it also means no guests (0) inside you’re home unless you’re both living alone and single or else romantic partners, it means not leaving your home at all except for one of 4-5 necessary reasons, not being outside for more than 2hrs per day even to exercise, and not going more than 5km from your home unless required for work/medical/etc required reasons.

it’s intense. we spent (i think) 128 days in this degree of lockdown in 2020, never mind how many we spent in other forms of restrictions and working from home. and we’ve been back in it four (4) times in 2021 already. in-out-in-out-in-out -

it’s taking a toll on the mental health of every person i know. we get weekly emails with wellbeing and resilience tips from my job -- not just “be productive or else” capitalism but heartfelt ones from wellbeing officers with copies of articles like this one on languishing from the NYT, acknowledging we’re all struggling and directing us to the plethora of wellbeing resources our workplace is trying to provide, not only to us but reminding us they offer it to our families too.

i’m one of the lucky ones. i’m really not trying to wallow here or to pretend otherwise. i appreciate that i can work from home, even though i can’t focus when i do and it this interacts with my adhd to fuck my productivity. even if i’m so behind and delayed it feels like i’ve lost 12-18 months worth of work and it will have long-term ramifications on my career -- even so, i still i have a job. i still get paid. and i even kept my job, a bit by the skin of my teeth but i did, when my sector downsized last year. yes, the way my employer went about lay offs left a bad taste in everyone’s mouth (my own included), but i made it through.

and my sector, while affected, is by no means the worst of the collateral damage.

the yo-yo of lockdowns is taking a very very real toll on industries like hospitality, tourism, commerce. and the economy does have indirect effects on health and mental health as well. my friend, a waitress, was on her way to work the evening shift at a restaurant when she got the call about the latest lockdown. she had to turn around and go home because the announcement came just hours before the lockdown was imposed, and every place suddenly had to close by 8pm. bye bye evening shift. so much of the government support for these industries has dried up, has been inadequate.

lockdowns save lives. i don’t begrudge my state for imposing one except that yes -- i’m resentful we’re here again with only six cases. i can be both accepting and grateful and also pissed and tired and more all at once.

even more than the latest lockdown, i’m pissed about the yo-yo. that we went into lockdown in june, came out in july, went back in in july, came back out in july, are going back in now, in the first week of august. three lockdown/re-openings in 10 weeks, as if this rollercoaster doesn’t completely incapacitate our ability to plan or prepare for anything more than a week out, more than a day out -- in this case, more than a few hours out. 4pm the lockdown was announced, with an 8pm start time. as if that doesn’t have more insidious consequences on individuals and industries than a more clearly articulated and consistent approach. as if all the restaurants that got to open up this week didn’t purchase large food orders for this weekend that will spoil because they were given 4 hours notice to close their doors.

that’s the part i hate, right now more than the lockdowns themselves. consumer sentiment was at a high in april, optimism was everywhere. people felt good, and like we had a plan forward. now -- well, now my job is sending me emails about how normal and okay it is that i might be ‘languishing’ because aren’t we all?

and i absolutely do begrudge my federal government, and i’m angry with them, and this is part of why:

youtube

but i also accept, to some extent, that these decisions have all been made in difficult circumstances, and i’m not really about to pretend i could do any better.

at the same time, australia’s vaccine rollout is among the slowest and lowest at least within OECD countries. i know that’s partly because we’ve managed the keep cases low and therefore we are prioritized less when it comes to who needs the vaccines most (and thus who is earlier in line to be able to purchase) among other geo-political reasons i won’t get into, but it still very much sucks. our timeline and ability to move forward and ability to stop having lockdowns requires a mostly-vaccinated population, and that’s not something we’ll have anytime soon.

and i am a visa-holder here and my family is back in canada and with our current border restrictions leaving to visit is honestly is not an option because i wouldn’t be able to return, to work. i’m managing that distance okay most of the time despite my homesickness and frustration but my partner’s parents are older and his mother’s health just isn’t amazing and it’s weighing on him a lot.

a phd student i work with just had a parent die in another country while stuck here, had to drop everything to return, is devastated by not being by their parent’s side when it happened because it came on sudden, and now won’t be able to come back into australia after, will have to finish their thesis remotely from abroad. stories like that are becoming commonplace in certain circles, here. this student is not the first or only person i know who has been in that exact situation in the past year.

it’s enraging, and upsetting, and instills a sense of helplessness because -- there’s nothing that can really be done about it. there’s no good answer, but it’s scary to think of what could happen. i know it scares my husband. if his mother’s health suddenly dips -- does he drop everything and leave? how can he not? would i go with him or hold the fort here? what ramifications does that have either way?

right now, we’re in the first stages of getting permanent residency, my job is putting in the nomination, and this is one of those awesome high-points i mentioned. it’s a very much needed sense of security in my career and my future in this country. but while a PR application is pending and under review, you can’t leave the country, even in pre-covid times. it takes months to get the application fully nominated, accepted, then submitted, and months on months to process.

in january 2020 we had agreed that for xmas 2020 we’d return home to canada. obviously the world changed and we quickly determined that wouldn’t be the case. we pushed that plan back to july-aug 2021, then to october 2021, xmas 2021. my partner’s sister asked him last week if we started making plans, booking things for xmas, was calling to check that we’d had our second jabs. he had to explain the situation to her, that we aren’t even eligible for our first vaccine yet, that we aren’t holding out any real hope of visiting, not this year, not until mid-next.

anyway - i’m just. languishing, i guess, if that’s the word for it after all. i know it’s not the same as depression -- i’ve had episodes of that, been treated for it in different ways. this is and feels different, even if there are obvious similarities. whatever to call it, it sucks, and i hate it. and i hate the other lows and anxieties and crap i’ve been dealing with in the past few months as well that didn’t make it into this post about covid. crap with work, with friends, with goddamn car rentals of all stupid things. crap that’s making me anxious and crap that just needs processing. crap that is, ultimately, massively exacerbated because lockdowns turn us into little rats gnawing on the bars of our cages.

and i guess i just needed to talk about it somewhere, to organize my thoughts and free up some headspace (emotion space?) currently being used to hold these thoughts and feelings in place. i kind of hate posting personal crap like this and always get the urge to delete but i also have a hard time organising my thoughts if i don’t write them out with this intent to post. sort of want to go outside and scream at god, sort of want to phone up a friend and yell at him for an hour for being an exhausting ass, sort of want to be alone for a day to curl up under a blanket with a movie that’ll make me cry because raging at the universe is always so much easier when i’m alone and unobserved. but i guess since those aren’t especially kind or feasible i’ll post this instead.

anyway - if you read to the end of this for any reason, i’m not trying to be maudlin, and there’s really no need to respond. it’s just a feelings dump, sucking some of the poison out, not really much different than journalling but i’ve always been better at that online than on paper.

#ugh #personal post #just organising thoughts and bitching about present circumstances #because i'm tired of 2021's bullshit and needed to vent a bit #gpoy

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knives-out20 · 3 years

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The Impact Of The Intergalactic - David Bowie Opinion Essay - by Beck S.

This is an essay I wrote about the span of David Bowie's career. I wrote it for a summer school course I took last year (August 2021) for a course called History of Rock & Roll.

My teacher gave nice feedback after he marked it, talking about how it was an "Excellent paper. It charts Bowie's progress throughout his career well, and includes significant detail. I could really feel the passion you have about him throughout. In fact, there is *too much* detail! The paper was supposed to be 3 pages max, double-spaced. Still, this is a good problem to have; better too much than too little."

So...enjoy!!

From his early works like Hunky Dory, to Black Tie White Noise in the 1990’s and stretching over to Blackstar as his final album, David Bowie has rarely had a bad album or song- in my opinion. His career has had ups and downs, his musical creations ranging in the way he would pitch his voice and what instruments he would use, the people he would produce with, and the wild things he would say. Charting David Bowie’s development over time is in fact an interesting journey.

Early on in his dreamy career, Bowie would have done nearly anything- or in fact, anyone- to grow in the music world. Hopping from band to band (like The Velvet Underground), producer to producer, doing whatever he could do to get ‘in’ in the industry. His early albums weren’t taken very highly in their times- especially with the ‘man-dress’ he wore on the British release of his The Man Who Sold The World album. Although, this dress was only the start of the androgynous appearance he would soon be known for, over the course of his 5-decade-spanning career.

The 1970’s were strange, to say the least. He married Angela Bowie at the start of the decade, then welcomed their son Duncan Zowie Haywood Jones a year later. Bowie went on to be hopped up on cocaine. David donned the look of one of his famous personas, The Thin White Duke. The same persona with slicked-back ginger hair, a white button-up under a black waistcoat and paired with black dress pants. The same Duke who called Adolf Hitler one of the first ‘rock stars’ and gave off a lot of faschist energy. He said many statements he’d later apologize for and grow as a better man from, which is good- it’s better than standing by then, or even backing himself up and supporting them. David Bowie called that period the darkest days of his life, and blamed the crazy statements on his horrid addiction and deteriorating mental state. The late 1970’s were more favorable, seeing as it gave the world what was dubbed the Berlin Trilogy alongside Brian Eno and David’s personal friend, Iggy Pop. Made up of three of his albums: Low and Heroes (both in 1977) and Lodger (1978). He moved from Los Angeles to Switzerland, then to Berlin as a further decision to escape his addiction (the reason he moved away from LA in the first place). It was in Berlin, of course, where he wrote his famous song Heroes, about two lovers, one from East Berlin and one from West.

Speaking of Berlin, David Bowie performed near the west of the Berlin Wall in 1987; he played so loud that crowds gathered on the east to listen. At this time, Bowie had no idea he would be the beginning of the city’s soon-coming unifying. After his death in 2016, the German government thanked him for bringing the wall down and unifying a divided Germany.

Music isn’t all he is known for, though it is a majority. He also starred in movies from time to time. Being the titular man in The Man Who Fell To Earth in 1976, Jareth the moody goblin king in Jim Henson’s 1986 Labyrinth film (what is most likely his most famous role), Monte the barman in the 1991 movie The Linguini Incident, cameoing as himself in Zoolander (2001), Nikola Tesla in the 2006 movie The Prestige, and even Lord Royal Highness in Spongebob Squarepants’ Atlantis Squarepantis in 2007, among a few others. David Bowie dabbled in the art of acting, and was not that bad at it. He was good enough to gain a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, too. Sometimes it bends my mind that my first introduction to my all-time favourite musician was in a Spongebob Squarepants movie, back before I knew who he was, but David Bowie was never one to shy away from foreshadowing. At least one song from many of his albums would hint at the direction he’d go in for his next release. For example, his track Queen Bitch on Hunky Dory foreshadowed his soon-coming Ziggy Stardust. And the Diamond Dogs track 1984 actually hinted at the Philadelphian soul of Young Americans, which is a more famous song of his, which he went on to perform on The Cher Show with its host.

The 1990’s were certainly an experimental time for David Bowie. But to my knowledge, I think the 1990’s was a time for everyone. He married supermodel Iman some days after performing at the Freddie Mercury Tribute Concert, and released the album I named earlier, Black Tie White Noise. It is known to have had a prominent use of electronic instruments, as was his other 1990’s album, Earthling. The early 1990’s greeted David’s first real band since the Spiders From Mars, dubbed Tin Machine. They recorded three guitar-driven albums which received mixed reviews from the masses, but Bowie looks back at this period- as do I- with a certain fondness; “a glorious disaster” he called it, when talking to journalist Mick Brown. Tin Machine is a period I don’t listen to often, compared to his solo stuff, but I don’t press the skip button when it comes on.

Alas, the starman’s career drew to a close as the 2000s rolled in. David Bowie greeted the 2000’s with the birth of his and Iman’s daughter, the beautiful Alexandria Zahra Jones. After suffering a- strange, as it were- heart attack symptoms mid-song during a concert in 2004, he took a hiatus from his career. I say strange because given what I know, he was trying his best to stay healthy at the time. According to my special Rolling Stone edition magazine about David Bowie (released at the start of this year), he was on tour and performing in a really hot arena. But Bowie was sober, and had quit smoking. He was taking medication to lower his cholesterol, and worked out with a trainer. Bowie looked great, and yet he felt a pain in his shoulder and chest, along with a shortness for breath. A bodyguard rushed onstage to usher Bowie off of it, cutting the concert short. He only performed live once or twice after that point, but was set on never going live ever again. And he kept his word on that, unfortunately but also fortunately. Unfortunately, because David Bowie live would have been quite the experience- I wouldn’t know, personally. But fortunately, because I do not believe anyone needs a repeat of the 2004 Reality scare.

I am actually not too fond of speaking of his final years. Nobody really likes to speak of the last years of their idols’ life before their death, so it’s no surprise. Blackstar was David Bowie’s 25th and final album, recorded entirely in secret in New York alongside his long-time producer, Tony Visconti. The album's central theme lyrically is mortality, and seeing as Bowie was undergoing chemotherapy for his cancer at the time, I see it as his way of coping with his incoming death. His producer Tony Visconti called him a ‘canny bastard’, when he realized Bowie was essentially writing a farewell album. Every song on the album is what is considered a swan song, a swan song in question being a phrase for a final gesture of some sort before retirement or death. In this case, death. Over the course of recording the album, David Bowie’s chemotherapy had actually been working and he had an eerie optimism while recording. But by the time they shot the two music videos Blackstar and Lazarus, where he showed off the definite passage of time and cruelty of chemotherapy through sparse and gray hair with sagging skin, he knew his condition was terminal and that this would be a battle he would lose. Blackstar wasn’t the first album to have been made by a musician succumbing to a fatal illness, but in my opinion it is in fact the most beautiful. It’s jazzy, and elegant, showing how at peace he had become with dying.

Blackstar the album was released on January 8th, 2016. Also known as David Bowie’s 69th birthday. Two days later, David Bowie died at his Lafayette Street home on January 10th after living with liver cancer for up to 18 months. Beforehand, he had let it be known he did not want a funeral nor a burial, but rather that his body be cremated and the ashes to be scattered in Bali by his loved ones. His wish was received, and planet Earth was very much bluer and quieter without his colour and wonderful noise.

As I said earlier on, David Bowie’s career came with ups and downs. His mysteriously close relationship with Mick Jagger, his cross with famous underage groupie Lori Maddox, the births of his two talented children, his faschist bender in the 70’s, and final bang of Blackstar in his final year on earth. Through the highs and lows, his career and his music meant a lot to the quote-unquote misfits and freaks of the world, myself included. David Bowie turned and faced the strange, shouted “you’re not alone!” To those who felt the loneliest, he surely spent his career helping those who needed to be themselves, feel more freer and braver in doing so, no matter what they may be when they are themselves. He never went boring, he never went stale, he sang what he wanted and dressed how he pleased, and kept to his word on how much more to life there is when you’re just that; yourself. A year after David Bowie’s untimely passing, his son Duncan Jones accepted an award for British album of the year that was won by Blackstar at the 37th annual Brit Awards. When he accepted it, he made a speech about his father that I will leave here, and never forget. Seeing as it perfectly encapsulates David Bowie’ legacy, and the true meaning of his extraordinary career.

“I lost my dad last year, but I also became a dad. And, uhm, I was spending a lot of time- after getting over the shock- of trying to work out what would I want my son to know about his granddad? And I think it would be the same thing that most of my dad's fans have taken over the last 50 years. That he’s always been there supporting people who think they’re a little bit weird or a little bit strange, a little bit different, and he’s always been there for them. So...this award is for all the kooks, and all the people who make the kooks. Thanks, Brits, and thanks to his fans.” - Duncan Z. H. Jones (February 22 2017, at The O2 Arena in London.)

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prettyoddfever · 4 years

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Panic! at the Disco’s old book club:

Someone asked me about the book club before and I was like ha no I do not remember many specific titles… BUT it turns out that procrastination is a very wonderful life skill and I just found a file in my old hard drive with a ton of super random book club notes I made in case I wanted to catch up on everything “later” (because that always works out so well). disclaimer first: I didn’t actually participate in the book club because discussing academic stuff outside of school was not super appealing... I also made other excuses like the titles were depressing or everyone seemed so close that it felt weird to just jump in (they had a lot of inside jokes about lampshades and Spencer being an octopus and stuff? idk). so basically I was lazy and got a lot of my updates from Stephanie & Kim, who often tried to recruit people & spread the word. all I did was lurk on the book club, so I’m probably the worst person to try to explain anything… but here’s everything I saved and/or recalled after reading my notes:

so I remember some kids talking about a book club at the very start of January 2006, but the first legit info I saved was from Ryan’s different posts in mid-January:

We've been wanting to do something with our fans for a while now that would allow us to get to talk to you more, and in a way that isn't us just answering questions about the band. I'm curious to see how you all think and what you feel and what you like, don't like, would like, and so forth. So we came up with the idea of having sort of a "book club" in hopes that we can all get to know each other a little better, and at the same time read some literature that is new to us. I chose the first book, 'The Heart is Deceitful Above All Things' because it's been recommended to me countless times by countless people, and thought it would be a good one to start this off with. So the point here is to discuss what you thought of the first chapter, 'Disappearances' whether it's something in the story, Leroy's writing style, if it's theme related, whatever it is. I'm going to go ahead and let you all start, and I'll respond. - Ryan

We know all of you have been waiting on the edge of your seat for us to announce what book we're going to do first, and lucky for you, the moment has arrived. You should go pick up "The Heart Is Deceitful Above All Things" by JT LeRoy. I just started reading it the other day, it's definitely cool so far, but pretty intense. In a week or so, I'll post something about the first chapter, and we'll continue to discuss a new chapter each week, or something like that. If you have any suggestions for future books, leave them in the comments. - Ryan

(hi, update from me: I just found some other notes that made it clear that the second post above was actually done in late December... I just didn’t see/save it until January).

I feel like it’s a common story these days that Ryan was leading this book club through the years or contributing to all sorts of discussions and that just did not happen. Yes, Ryan started the club and picked the first book. There was even this article in Blender where Brendon says they got the idea after “fans said they were turned on to Chuck Palahniuk from references in our songs.” But then the band got too busy and things kind of died down for a while by early spring. And I do not remember the other guys being directly involved with the club in any way (and Pete had absolutely nothing to do with it beyond being one of the people who recommended the first book to Ryan).

UPDATE/CLARIFICATION: For the record – Ryan might have participated for the first book. I can’t say that he didn’t for sure. (My school semester was ending in January, so analyzing the book club wasn’t my main focus. Plus, the band was doing SO much else in early 2006 that it was probably the least exciting thing to go back to examine. Also, I don’t feel like the little that I'm remembering about the book club at that time is reliable or hasn’t been influenced by other people. Maybe I just want to remember Ryan participating? I didn’t like a girl who complained that Ryan had never even participated, so maybe that factors in. My point is that I’m not certain about the first book, but that is absolutely the only book he could have possibly participated for).

By March fans were pretty much just discussing books in general. Ryan never picked a second book or checked back in, so fans started doing their own thing. There was a big lull with the book club for a while. I stopped paying much attention here so I’m not clear on how the fans picked the second book (I just know they did & it wasn’t Ryan). The fan who took over at first was named Sylvia... I remember that I respected her because she had direct access to Ryan and didn’t abuse it, brag, or even acknowledge overly-excited fans who wanted more info on him. Lauren also ran the book club and was the only one profiled in AP magazine because I think Sylvia had stepped back more at that point. But the fans were technically running the club in Ryan’s place so it was still considered the official Panic! at the Disco book club. This is the only book club they ever linked to from their site or mentioned on any band-related blog.

so just to be clear: Ryan Ross had nothing to do with the book club after the first book.

By fall 2006 the club had their act together and was picking their next books by voting between choices. The book club was spread across myspace, several sites (the early 2006 forums sucked), and an AIM chat. By late 2006 the club was primarily on the new/better boards. I know some of the titles to vote on were eventually nominated by people in other bands. They also talked about a ton of other books besides the assigned one... the genres were all over the map too (it was kind of cool to see the same fans having rational discussions about Twilight and Dickens).

Other random things: they branched into a creative writing club later that fall… I remember thinking their “missions” were some kind of religious thing at first lol but I guess they were just prompts. a couple members won signed & personalized copies of Chuck Palahniuk books. the club also made a present for Ryan once (around the same time everyone was mailing the guys stuff and there were way too many projects to join) but he didn’t get it & I thought that was sad. pretty sure they also did another separate present for the whole band with like writing & art & that kind of stuff but I’m not sure what came of that. ummm I think they also annotated books to mail to soldiers (but I’m not 100% sure so don’t take that as fact) and then did like a book exchange and penpal thing with each other? and then sometimes they interviewed authors of the books they read (like heychris haha).

my favorite thing that sort of came out of the book club was when Stephanie knit the band scarves in fall 2006! the guys ended up picking the one they wanted and Bden wore his a lot during the NRWC season... and oh wow I managed to sidetrack even this topic to how adorable he was in 2006.

ANYWAYS the books were broken down into sections that seemed like they were discussed for about a week. and then halfway into the book there would be a discussion opened where you could just talk about the whole thing in case you were done. I’m remembering now how I almost joined when they picked the 7th Harry Potter book... but I went to a midnight book party and was done & crying by noon and absolutely could not patiently discuss it piece by piece because FRED. I bet most members were in the same boat, so idk how they managed.

here’s a rough idea of when I think each book happened:

January 2006: The Heart is Deceitful Above All Things by JT Leroy (picked by Ryan)

Spring 2006: A Long Way Down by Nick Hornby

September 2006: A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess

November 2006: The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

December 2006: Stranger Than Fiction by Chuck Palahniuk

February 2007: On The Road by Jack Kerouac*

March 2007: the choices were between Life of Pi, Flowers for Algernon, Catcher in the Rye, and Post Office (suggested by Andrew from Jack’s Mannequin… and I put that a book was suggested by All Time Low but I’m not sure which title that note was referring to, sorry). the book club picked post office by charles bukowski

May 2007: in april they had voted between the rules of attraction, ordinary men, angels and demons, and rosemary’s baby… I think some of those titles were suggested by other bands but I only put that Scott from The City Drive suggested the winner: the rules of attraction by bret easton ellis

June 2007: A Life Deliberate by Christopher Gutierrez / heychris

August 2007: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

September 2007: The Cool Kids by Ramsey Dean (summary of my notes: this was a self-published book you could read for free online and the author joined in on the discussions. Shane Drake was supposed to be directing the movie and there were t-shirts for sale and everything but idk if anything ever came of that. I heard this book wasn’t that great).

October 2007: Sharp Objects by Gillian Flynn

December 2007: House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski

March 2008: Candy: A Novel of Love and Addiction by Luke Davies

there was a bit of a gap here… things seemed to be dying down a bit. I know they discussed "I Wanna Be Your Joey Ramone" by Stephanie Kuehnert at the start of August. this seems to be the title most easily remembered because it was towards the end & was discussed for so long.

I’m fairly sure they picked Stardust by Neil Gaiman before the band split but that’s where my lurking ends... I think the club might have continued for a bit after the split, though. idk

* I put an asterisk next to On the Road by Jack Kerouac because this one was technically suggested by Ryan after the mods reached out to him to ask for a recommendation! I had totally forgotten it was a book club title since I’d already read it at the time (and then went back to reread it in 2008 on my own to understand Northern Downpour). Anyways, Ryan suggested it to the mods... and here's one quote from On the Road:

“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles...”

So yes, Ryan did kind of end up suggesting another title, but he did not comment on any posts or join the book club again. I have no idea where the story started that Ryan was contributing to discussions in this book club or picking the books or in direct contact with fans in any way. I’m sorry, but that is a completely fictional (albeit super cute) alternate reality. He was so busy with the band... I cannot emphasize that enough. He did start everything! And then fans appreciated it enough to keep the official book club going after that.

Trust me, if Ryan Ross had been personally discussing something with fans I would’ve been signed up in a flash instead of periodically lurking. The book club also wouldn’t have needed to spread the word everywhere to try to get more than a handful of kids involved in discussions. The club was a really wonderful thing for Ryan to start, though, and that intent says a lot about him! It also led to what looked like a really tight-knit small community.

Anyways, I’m glad I found this file and it was fun to remember so many random associations again... so the moral of this story is that your older self will thank you for putting things off until later lol.

UPDATE:

I know this all conflicts with what some other people have said (to the point where I feel like I’m in an alternate reality & am legit questioning my sanity) so I’m definitely not saying anyone else is wrong! (update: now I am). I’m just sharing what I know in case this can add to the discussion. I saved this post as a draft today and then reached out to the girl who ran the book club for Ryan because I never feel like I’m a particularly credible source... so I asked the book club mod if I could quote what she remembered. Forgive my tearing skills, but here’s a scan of the old AP magazine interview with Lauren:

Lauren was the awesome mod who ran Panic! at the Disco’s official book club over the years. she also ran this book blog of her own that she’s still doing! so I emailed Lauren and here’s what she had to say:

“Ryan didn't have much to do with the book club beyond creating it. Ryan started the official one on their actual message boards, and I've never heard or seen any other book clubs associated with him or the band. He's the only band member that was ever part of the book club though. I don't remember him really being involved too much in the discussions. Ryan chose the first book and then we kind of just kept it going because there wasn't a second choice and people loved the idea of the book club… honestly, if Ryan was involved in the first book - asking questions/replying - I don't remember. He could have, but he wasn't involved in that way past the first book though.”

so that sounds pretty similar to what I said above. hopefully this helps! anything else I post about the book club will be in this tag.

update: Sylvia was the mod for part of 2006 before Lauren took over, and here’s what she recently said.

THE MAIN POST

#early06

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mrvdocks · 4 years

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Plus One

Steve Harrington has had an eventful life. He's slain monsters, saved the princess, and earned his dignity back. But that was in the past.

It's seven years later, 1994, and he's still finding himself. His friends have been up to other things though, getting married and inviting him to those weddings.

It's the last thing he wants to do, but his roommate decides to make him go through all four weddings in hopes of finding someone.

And so it begins.

(chapter one)

It’s been seven years since the gang has had any incident or warnings or dreams about monsters. Things have died down in Hawkins. So much so that it’s starting to feel normal again, or whatever normal is for everyone else.

Steve feels like an outsider, though. Everyone he knows is getting married. Nancy and Jonathan, Robin and Kali, Hopper and Joyce, hell even Tommy and Carol tied the knot in Vegas. All of these, weddings he’s been invited to. Except for the latter, they sent him a postcard with a phallic drawing in the back.

He was used to moping, even if Robin had threatened to make him listen to disco to cheer him up. You thought it was funny though, it showed he had some emotion after all.

It’s not that he couldn’t continue his womanizing streak. It’s just that after feeling that connection with Nancy, he didn’t want to see different people in the morning. He wanted the one.

It didn’t help that his parents would call all the time now. Asking him things like if he’d found a girlfriend yet, or a steady job, or be constantly reminded that the clock was ticking. He was painfully aware.

He’d just come back from his stint as a bartender in some dingy club in lower Manhattan to the somewhat comfortable apartment he shared with you and Robin. Well, that is, until Robin decided to move in with Kali. Robin had taking a liking to you, you weren’t as girly and deluded as the other applicants they were going through and you certainly weren’t as bothersome.

Envelopes and bills spilled on the black mat you’d picked out, warding off visitors or unwanted guests with a foul word written on it. He gathered them, going through them as he opened the door. Nothing but bills and subscriptions.

What a joy to be an adult.

He let the things fall onto the taped up coffee table on its last legs and collapsed onto the faded green couch.

He heard the pitter-patter of your feet running into the living room. “Oh honey, you’re home.”

He snorted. “Haha, funny.”

“What? No ‘Hey how’s your day?’ or ‘Good Morning’?”

“Good Morning.” He mumbled face down.

You smirk, settling onto the arm of the couch. “How bad was it?”

“Oh god, so bad.” He lifts his head up, eyes rolling for dramatic effect.

“I’ve never had to clean vomit before in my life and now I feel so bad for what you have to go through.”

“Ugh, ok there’s a difference between cleaning up after drunk assholes and poorly malnutrition-ed dogs.”

He groans, stuffing his face back down. “My back is killing me.”

“Oh, I’m sorry Grandpa, do you want me to rub your back or maybe your feet?”

His head lifts up again to narrow his eyes at you. “You’re only four years younger than me, this is your future! But also, yes please.”

You roll your eyes in amusement. “I’m never going to be like this at your age.”

He chortles. “Oh yeah?”

“Mhmm. Unlike you, I have a life. I’m active!”

“I’m not sure sitting with a pack of popcorn and watching sci-fi tv counts as being active.”

You gasp and rip the pillow from underneath him to hit him with it. “You’re the one who cried when Scully and Mulder -”

“Ahhhhh! No! Shut up!” He plugs his ears with his fingers.

You erupt with laughter, falling off of the arm and onto the floor.

You share a fun moment together before he groans again about his back. You think to resolve this with the expensive purchase you’ve been hiding. You rush into your room, if it could even be called that, grab the basin, fill it with water and back into the living room.

“Here, kick off your shoes.” You kneel down, turning on the machine and placing his feet into the water.

His tone changes the moment he feels the warmer kick in. He throws his head back in content and comfort. You take his shoes and place them near the doorway.

“Did you see this?” You ask, the gold of a letter catching your eye. He hums in response.

You use the keys to rip it open, the hard cardstock nearly giving you a paper cut. You’re greeted with a beautiful invitation, all black with gold lettering and cursive writing.

“You are cordially invited to share in a celebration of the union of Dustin Henderson and Suzie Smith.”

Steve’s eyes fly open as he turns his head to face you. “Let me see that.”

You pass it to him, getting comfortable in the little space and trying to remember where you’ve heard their names before.

Steve chuckles to himself, scanning the whole invite. “He did it. He really did it.”

“Dustin...is he the one you’re always talking about?”

“Yeah,” he smiles to himself, thinking of how much time has passed. “Kind of like the little brother I never had. Wow, I haven’t seen him since he was 15.”

You’ve never seen Steve so happy before. He doesn’t talk much about his life back in Hawkins and neither did Robin. You could only assume it was as boring like your own hometown and thus the reason for their leave.

“Isn’t this the fourth wedding you’ve been invited to?”

He sighs. “Yeah but, I don’t even know if I’m going to any of them.”

Your brows furrow. “Why not? You said it yourself this is like your brother.”

He lets the invitation fall onto his lap. “Because - I, I’m not as interesting as they probably think I am.”

“Pfft. So what? You want to entertain some people to spruce your ego or something?”

“No,” he crosses his arms. “It’s just everyone’s getting married, my cousin just had like his third kid, oh and this guy at the bar was showing me his grandkid and crying like crazy.”

“So? Everyone’s different, things don’t always have to match up. You don’t have anything to prove.”

He squeezes his eyes closed and runs his hand through his hair.

“How about this? We go and we just try and set you up with someone. Doesn’t matter who. It’s four weddings, there’s bound to be some marriage material in there.”

He side smiles, contemplating. “Alright.”

“Good,” you clap. “You need this. Plus there’s something wrong with the plumbing and we have to leave while they fix it.”

He groans.

January 13, 1994

Nancy & Jonathan’s Wedding

Portland, Maine

One Day Before

The airplane ride wasn’t too bad. Actually no, that was a lie. There was mostly turbulence and you spent most of the four hours freaking out and thinking that there was something going horribly wrong. Steve wouldn’t stop laughing at you though, faking that your seatbelt had come undone too many times. You shut him out by grabbing a blanket and trying to lull yourself to sleep without thinking about how you were suspended in mid-air on a death trap.

It didn’t work as well as you’d hoped, being able to hear Steve’s poor flirting with the flight attendant. You rolled your eyes, but you had to give him some credit. He was starting early.

Steve shook you awake shortly after touchdown, poking at you. “Alright good, you’re in one piece. Can’t afford to claim you as extra baggage.”

You faked a laugh and pinched him, earning a yelp from him and eyes from other passengers.

One confusing cab ride later, you both had arrived at a pleasant looking hotel. It looked over the ocean, which smelled and felt so incredible. It was cloudy now, the sun hiding away and making the hotel the sole focus of your attention.

You struggled to get your suitcase up the stairs, eventually giving up and letting Steve carry it while you carried the other bags.

“Geez, what’s in here, rocks?”

“Hey! I didn’t know what to bring exactly so I brought a little of everything.”

“You look like you packed for two weeks, we’re only going to be here for two days!”

“I work hard to look good, Steve. Which is less than I can say about this number.” You gestured to his wardrobe consisting of a worn henley, frayed at the end of the sleeves, a denim jacket and brown boots you stole from him from time to time.

He looks up and down. “I think I look good.”

You ignore him, continuing up the infernal stairs, mentally making a note to join Robin on her retreats.

You two are trying to catch your breath at the desk when you meet the attendant.

“Byers wedding.” You huff out.

When you’re handed the keys, you steer Steve into an elevator, not even bothering to look at the massive set of stairs even if they were decorated beautifully.

“Hurry.” He whispers, dragging the suitcases.

“I’m trying! You’re the one who packed all these jackets.”

“It’s cold, do you want us to freeze?”

“No, but we could’ve done with two!”

You both finally arrive to your room confused.

“Wait, why did she give you only one key?” Steve asks, hand on his hip like a mother.

“I don’t know, you’re the one that booked it.” You shrugged, sticking the keys in and opening the door.

“I clearly said two people in one roo - I see my mistake.”

A single king bed stares back at you both, tidied up with a towel teddy bear in the middle of it.

You glance at Steve, meeting his eyes before glancing back to the room. You both stay silent.

“I’ll take the floor.” You both say in unison.

“No, no, you can take the bed. Since you say you always need your beauty sleep.” He gestures to your face.

You snort. “Me? No, Grandpa, I think you need it more than I do. Wouldn’t want you breaking your back at the wedding and outshining the bride.”

He mimics you in a high pitched voice, prompting you to laugh.

“Listen we can figure it all out once we get everything unpacked, okay?” You wave him off.

He shrugs. “Fine by me.”

The tv plays in the background while you brush your teeth. Steve settles in the huge bed, patting down his pillow.

Once you’re done, you wet your fingers and rush into the room and flick your hand at Steve. You get him right in the face.

“Hey! I’m trying to sleep here.”

“You’re no fun.”

“Yeah well, we can have as much fun as we want tomor- what’re you doing?”

His train of thought is interrupted by you slipping into the bed.

“What? You really thought I was going to sleep on the floor?”

He chuckles nervously. “No.”

It amuses you. “Relax.”

He slinks back into bed, one arm under his pillow and the other atop his forehead. You grab one of the extra pillows and wrap your arms around it, your right leg climbing on top of it.

A few minutes pass and the pillow is too uncomfortable and sweaty so you discard it onto the floor somewhere. You huff.

You glance at Steve who’s snoring lightly.

“Steve.” You whisper.

Nothing.

“Steve!” You whisper a little louder.

He hums in response.

“Are you asleep?”

“I was.” He whispers back.

“Can I..hug you?”

That gets his attention. His arm leaves his face, now looking at you through sleepy eyes.

“What?”

“Can I hug you? I can’t sleep without the pillow making me sweaty.”

“Uhh, what about Danny?”

“We broke up. A while ago.”

His mouth drops into an O shape.

You shake your head, dismissing the thought. “Nevermind.”

Steve hops onto his elbows, “No! No, it’s okay. Really.”

You turn back, trying to see if he’s serious. When that sorry look is apparent, you nod.

“How do you - oh okay.”

You get close to his right side, swinging your leg over his waist and wrapping your right arm over his chest. He can smell your shampoo.

“Cuddling doesn’t have to be sexual by the way.” You murmur into his chest.

He almost asks you to explain that but when he hears your soft snoring, he forgets.

#steve harrington x reader #joe keery x reader #stranger things imagine #steve harrington imagine #based on the plus one movie 🥰

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mkkhaikyuu · 4 years

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Autumn Skies: Chapter 2

Previous | Chapter 2 | Next | Masterlist

Autumn Skies - Chapter 2

The Beginning (Part 2)

Warnings: some swearing, anime and manga spoilers, possible nsfw

Genre: angst, fluff, romance and comedy, smau

Word count: 2.9k words

•°O°• Flashback continues •°O°•

The days grew shorter as November started to roll in around the corner. Leaves of scarlet and gold fluttered to the school grounds and made crunching sounds beneath your feet as you ran off towards the gym. You should have already been at practice about an hour ago, but the meeting you had with the school’s guidance counselor went on longer than you had expected.

The entrance to the gym comes into view, and you paused right outside, bent forward and clutching at your knees, panting. As soon as you managed to calm the racing of your heart and get some air back into your lungs, you walked in. The team momentarily paused their drills to look over and shout greetings to you to which you merely responded with a nod.

You have never been late to practice before so this rare occurrence had some of the boys wondering what held you up. After all, as the manager, you always made it a point to set the best example for the team. You didn’t even have the time to change into your gym clothes. You apologized profusely to coach Nekomata, knowing how crucial these practice sessions were going to be for the upcoming tournament. Fortunately, he let you off the hook easily, or so you thought.

Over the past several weeks, the team has been really busy preparing for Tokyo’s Spring Interhigh Qualifiers which would take place in mid-November, and most of your weekends since then ended up being spent at the school gym. The boys were determined to snatch the chance to play at the national tournament in January next year and so, practice sessions have been longer and more grueling than usual. You and Kuroo haven’t had a proper conversation in a while – what with the both of you being so busy with things besides preparations for the tournament. He devoted his free time to Hana, while you… you had bigger things to do.

You halfheartedly watched as the team went over their drills. You deliberately tried not to look in Kuroo’s direction unless you had to. He was supervising the team’s training a little ways away to the side, occasionally yelling at Lev to get his blocking right.

Your thoughts went back to the conversation you had with the guidance counselor earlier and sighed wearily. You decided to distract yourself with your own work instead, finalizing some things you needed to get done for the tournament. It seemed to have worked for a little bit, at least.

“Alright, let’s call it a day!” Kuroo suddenly called out, clapping his hands together to get the team’s attention. You check the time and was surprised to see that it was almost 8 pm.

You all gathered around coach Nekomata as he remarks on the team’s performance and gave reminders for tomorrow’s practice. Your thoughts, however, were somewhere else, drowning out the coach’s voice. You don’t notice when he suddenly turns to look at you and asks “Y/n, is the paperwork for the tournament done?”

A few seconds passed, your mind processing his words as you look back at him blankly. Finally coming back to yourself, you blinked and answered, “Oh! Not yet, but I should be able to hand over the last bit of requirements to the coordinators tomorrow.” The old coach hummed and bobbed his head in satisfaction.

“Good to know. But the deadline is still two weeks away, so there’s no need for you to rush,” he smiled softly at you, something you noted was very uncharacteristic of him. “Is that why you were late today?”

The boys eye you curiously and you feel yourself shrink from all the unwanted attention. “W-well, no but –” you spluttered, then stopped to bow instead.

“I’m really sorry, it won’t happen again.”

Now you’ve done it – earning the coach’s ire. You cursed under your breath, expecting to receive a good scolding from the coach for the first time – and in front of the whole team, no less. Your thoughts came to a halt, and you stood back up when you heard him hum instead.

“No need to apologize, y/n,” he said. “We appreciate the things you do for the team but don’t overwork yourself. If you need time for yourself, you can say so.”

Without missing a beat, he then proceeded to dismiss the team.

The boys had begun to disperse around you but your feet kept you glued to your spot. What was the coach trying to say? Were you too obvious? You don’t remember making any mistakes while on your duties except for your tardiness earlier. Were you not acting like yourself and was it affecting your performance?

“Hey, y/n.”

You looked over to see Kuroo approaching, your walls going up on instinct. He had taken your bag from the bench and you held out your hand to take the bag from him, muttering “Thanks,” under your breath, refusing to meet his eyes. Kenma soon appeared behind him.

“You hungry? We’re all going out to grab dinner. You should come with us,” he said, thumb pointing to the gym doors.

“Oh. I think I’ll pass,” you answered, a forced smile making its way to your face. Kuroo frowned.

“What? Come on, it’s already way past dinnertime and it’s dangerous for you to be walking home by yourself. Just come with us.”

Outside, the rest of the team had already gathered and were calling out to the three of you. Suddenly, Kuroo’s lips curved into a smirk, and before you realize what he’s doing, he had already taken your bag back from you and swung it on his shoulder. You tried to protest but he only laughed at you.

“Let’s go,” he finally said as he started walking out of the gym.

You feel your heart flutter in your chest, warmth creeping into your face and the back of your neck, as the corners of your mouth threatened to erupt into a dopey smile – the complete opposite of the jumble of thoughts that have found its way into your head. Kenma’s face scrunched slightly in concern as he looks at you staring at Kuroo’s retreating form.

“If you want, we can go home now,” Kenma offered quietly beside you. You shake your head, mentally cursing yourself for the moment of weakness.

“He has my bag,” you told him resignedly.

You watched as a soft frown graced Kenma’s face under the dim light. Those who didn’t know him wouldn’t notice all the subtle shifts in his expressions, but you knew him well enough to know that under that layer of indifference, he was deeply concerned for his friends. You feel a little sorry for him, being caught in between and having to deal with you and your feelings for his other best friend.

“Thanks, Kenma, but I’ll be fine. Now, come on,” you gave the setter a reassuring smile and pulled him along.

•°O°•

You sat on the train, leaning your head back against the cool glass with your eyes closed. Your calm external demeanor was a far cry from the turmoil that was going on in your head. In your head, you had already body slammed yourself twenty times for your own stupidity – for reading the signs wrong and causing your own heartbreak.

Kuroo and Kenma sat across from you, talking about the game Kenma was playing. You ignored them.

Dinner with the team at a nearby yakiniku restaurant didn’t go so bad. The boys were too hungry, mouths too full to hold a proper conversation – except for Kenma whose appetite was as small as ever. You could tell the poor setter wanted to run away when Kuroo won’t stop shoving food his way, telling him he needed to eat more. You hadn’t felt like eating either, taking it upon yourself to grill the meat instead, and putting the cooked ones onto the boys’ plates. Kuroo had noticed and called you out on it, asking you why you weren’t eating, and without even waiting for an answer, he started filling up your plate with a variety of the food that was served. Time slowed down in that moment as the realization hit you.

With a sense of urgency, you thought back on all the moments you’ve had with Kuroo – the ones that had made you fall for him – sifting through your memory as if your life depended on it, and realized that you had inevitably led yourself on. You thought he did things like that because he liked you. Had all those actions just been out of pure concern for a friend? Seriously, was he just being kind? A memory flashed through your mind, one from the last training camp. The tall, blonde first year with the glasses from Karasuno had asked Kuroo why he was giving them blocking advice, knowing they were rival teams. Kuroo’s words rang loud and clear in your mind.

“I’ve always been this kind,” he had said.

OH.

You were a fool for deciding to put meaning behind his innocent actions – seeing feelings that weren’t actually there. You set yourself up for false hope and you had no one to blame but yourself. But then why did it seem like he was flirting with you every chance he could get? And when you flirted back, why did he seem to enjoy it? You weren’t a stranger to his teasing and provocative nature, but you were sure the two of you had already gone beyond friendly territory. Unless…you read the signs wrong and jumped to conclusions again?

“By the way, Y/n, why were you late to practice?”

You opened your eyes, slightly annoyed at being interrupted from your thoughts and by the person you’re moping about no less.

“There was just something I needed to do, is all,” you muttered, eyes closing again.

“What was it?”

“Nothing important.”

“Then why were you late if it wasn’t important?”

“Can you stop?” you snapped, tone coming out harsher than you had intended. This time, you sat up straight, arms crossed over your chest, glaring at him. Why was he asking so many questions? Why does he even care?

He looked genuinely stunned, like he hadn’t expected you to react like that. You froze, limbs going slack as you looked back at him with an expression that was just as shocked. Your mind finally caught up to your words, but it was too late to take them back.

Warily, Kuroo asked, “Are you okay, y/n?”

Fuck.

His tone was so gentle, eyes so sincere, that you automatically found yourself cursing under your breath, drowning in guilt.

“I’m sorry. There’s just a lot going on in my mind right now and – I really didn’t mean to snap at you like that!” you spluttered.

Kenma stays quiet, pretending to focus on his game and pressing buttons randomly. In truth, he had actually paused his game in case the situation escalated, and he had to intervene, not wanting to lose his progress.

Kuroo opened his mouth to say something but stopped to fish out his phone that was vibrating in his pocket, then raised it to his ear.

“Hana?” he spoke in a quiet voice, mindful not to disturb others even though there were barely any passengers besides the three of you.

“I’m on the train with y/n and Kenma.”

“Yeah, babe. I’ll call you back later, okay?”

“Love you too, bye.”

By the time Kuroo turned his attention back to you, you had already arrived at your stop. The three of you got off and walked to your respective homes as the weight of the unfinished conversation you had with Kuroo hung heavily in the air.

•°O°•Fast forward•°O°•

You rolled your shoulders and stretched, sighing as the tension dissipated from your aching body. The tournament would take place tomorrow and you’d just finished baking a cake for Kuroo’s birthday. That’s right, the tournament was happening on the same day as his birthday. You could have easily bought a cake from the bakeshop but you decided you wanted it to be more special for him – and you also hoped it would double as a peace offering for that one time you snapped at him even though you had apologized for it already.

Now that you’ve finished putting the kitchen back in order, it was time to settle down for the night. You sneaked under the covers of your bed and fell asleep.

•°O°•

That morning, Nekoma lost to Fukurodani. Your team had almost won but Bokuto’s strength managed to overwhelm your defense, and Fukurodani ended up taking both sets.

Tokyo was a big city so there would normally be two teams representing it at the nationals. However, since Tokyo will be the host in next year’s Spring High National Tournament, a third slot was available to represent the city. The first two slots were already claimed by Itachiyama and Fukurodani. Now you can only hope that your team could claim the last one. They had one last game later in the afternoon against Nohebi.

Coming back from the washroom after having lunch, you meet familiar faces in the hallway.

“Hey, hey, hey! If it isn’t Nekoma’s manager!”

Bokuto ran up to you, lifting you up and spinning you around. You laughed at his antics, his boisterous energy effectively dissolving the nerves that were just threatening to swallow you up. After he gently set you down, you said hi to Akaashi, congratulating them for winning the game that morning. In the middle of your catching up with each other, something caught Bokuto’s attention and you watched as he called out to Kuroo and Hana passing by.

“Hey! Kuroo, bro! You’d better win against Nohebi later!” he laughed.

The couple went over to you, hand in hand.

“Ooh! Who is she? Your girlfriend?” Bokuto asks.

“Yeah, this is Hana.” Kuroo introduced Hana and your two friends from Fukurodani to each other.

“Oh, nice to meet you, Hana!” Bokuto said, before going back to Kuroo.

“But I thought y/n was your girlfriend,” Bokuto said with a laugh, “guess I was wrong!”

Akaashi frowned at that, making a mental note to hit Bokuto’s head later. Meanwhile, Kuroo laughed like a hyena and you forced a laugh yourself, avoiding Hana’s eyes.

“We’re just friends, Bokuto. I don’t know what gave you the impression that we were together,” Kuroo said. You nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, we’re just friends,” you confirmed.

“But I swear you two look and act like a couple someti-“ Akaashi cut off what Bokuto was about to say, as he swiftly came up with an excuse to leave.

Dragging Bokuto away from the scene, Akaashi yelled, “Good luck on your game later! Let’s see each other at the nationals!”

“But Akaashiii! OH, this means I’m free to ask y/n out!” was the last thing you heard Bokuto say before the two turned the corner and disappeared from view.

“So, anyway, I have to go see coach,” you managed to say before you too scurried away from the scene, not wanting to deal with the tension that had developed.

•°O°•

Later that afternoon, Nekoma manages to win against Nohebi. It was a close fight – Nohebi being a cunning team that had dirty tricks up their sleeves – but your first years exceeded your expectations as they proved themselves on the court.

Legs shaking, you rose from the bench, processing the fact that your team won. You did it. You guys were heading to nationals. Everything slowed down around you. You wanted to run to someone – to Kuroo. You wanted to jump into his arms, pull his body to yours and whisper sweet praises into his ears. But you could only watch as Hana and Kuroo ran up to each other, locking themselves in a tight embrace before their lips come together for a kiss.

A bitter smile pulls at your lips, and you turned away from the scene, having seen enough of it to haunt your memory for the days to come. You willed yourself to breathe through the tears that were starting to blur your vision and the tightness that was coiling at your throat. Making sure no one was watching, you discreetly wiped the tears away before they fell down your cheeks.

While waiting for the awarding ceremony, you went out to the gym entrance to meet your friend, Amari. She lived in an apartment nearby so you had asked her if she could keep the cake you baked fresh until after the team was done playing. You baked an extra cake for her, too.

After the ceremony, you were supposed to go out with the team for dinner to celebrate – the coaches’ treat. But you weren’t sure you’d be able to sit through dinner with Kuroo and Hana after what you saw earlier. So as the team was heading off to the bus, you told coach Nekomata that you weren’t coming because you needed to go somewhere.

“Where do you need to go? We could drop you off if it’s along the way,” he said.

“Oh, you don’t have to. I can just walk there, but thanks, coach.”

“Hmm. Alright. Take care of yourself, y/n.”

“Y/n, you’re not coming?” Kuroo had gotten off the bus, “but it’s my birthday and we won!”

He playfully pouted at you so you pinched his side.

“Like I’d forget?” you pulled out the box of cake from the paper bag you hid it in. ”Here, take this. I baked this for you. Happy birthday, Kuroo!”

You smiled up at him before turning to wave to the other boys inside the bus who were protesting your departure. You didn’t wait to see or listen to Kuroo’s reaction.

“Kuroo! Don’t let her leave!” you heard Yamamoto and Lev cry out, pressing their faces against the window. You started walking away, shaking your head at how loud the boys were screaming your name and begging you to join the team dinner.

Previous | Chapter 2 | Next | Masterlist

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a/n: This chapter was really hard to write because of how I set up chapter 1 lol. I’m not too happy with it but I hope it turned out okay. The next chapters will finally be set in the present so it probably won’t be as lengthy as this. And some things you might be confused by will be explained in the next chapters.

Disclaimer: Kuroo Tetsurou, Haikyu!! and other Haikyu!! characters belong to Haruichi Furudate.

#kuroo #kuroo x reader #Kuroo Tetsurou #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo tetsurō #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyu #haikyuu au #kuroo smau #kuroo au #kuroo hc #kuroo x reader smau

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lostmoonbunny · 3 years

Text

Greetings from a Panini World

Yes, I did call this a "panini". I'm hesitant to use the word "pandemic" as I feel many of us have a knee jerk reaction to hide from everything once hearing or seeing that word. However that's the current stat of events. The year? 2021 Where I am located its very much so post quarantine and society has attempted to "return to normal" but its impossible. Between the anti- maskers, anti-vaxxers, and everything else it truly is impossible. "What do you mean?" you ask, well allow me to take you on a journey of a human that has gone through this "history in the making" and share what its been like since January 2020 to September 2021 from the eyes of someone that lived it. -I will preface this with saying, there will be gaps, I have trouble with object permanence, concept of time, and I have memory issues due to past concussions so bear with me as we stumble through the memories of my experiences.

So here we go... Let's travel back to January 2020.

2020..Ahhh the big year of "Clear vision".. HA! No, not today. What I remember was being concerned about this horrible virus but didn't think it would make its way to where I lived.. ( I would be unsurprisingly corrected shortly after this.) I worked, had my birthday, and it was quickly February. The virus was quickly spreading and making its way downtown walking fast faces past.. oops..sorry I got sidetracked, it was making its way down throughout the nation. We celebrated my partner's birthday, and soon after the month was over. February always flies by. March...ahh March, this is where everything started changing for me. Many states were shutting down around us fairly quickly too. ( I have opinions about how the US should've shut down sooner, but we're not here for politics...but yes it should've happened sooner.) My partner, younger brother and I made a last minute trip to the next state for a day trip. Which was fun don't get me wrong but the places we went to shut down for the state's quarantine the next day. My state would follow barely a week later. I was furloughed. That..that was an experience. All of us received the same message as it was a group message. It stated that we were all effectively unemployed ( so we could apply for benefits if we chose to) and that if and when we reopen that they hoped we could come back. I immediately messaged my boss and the boss that messaged us all and double checked learning that I was on the "short list" for rehires. That made me fee a bit better but I was still sad. My partner was considered "an Essential worker" so they worked through the entire lockdown. I swear Animal Crossing New Horizons is one of the only things that got me through that.. from this all the days blended together till June. Not don't get me wrong, plenty of things happened on a personal growth side that was beneficial like I started going to therapy, got even closer to my cousin that lives on the west coast, I played with my cats and dogs more, I caught up on sleep, all sorts of things but the way it had to happen sucked. Also in this time period, my favorite uncle contracts the virus and is put in the ICU on a ventilator. I don't remember how long he was in there but he made it. He is now healthy and survived the virus. So lets fast forward to June. My place of work reopened under specific guidelines. Now I don't know if I've ever mentioned this but I live in the southeast. The southeast, in summer is AWFUL. Its hot, its humid, and then if it DOES rain that humidity just goes up and it gets worse. To give you an idea while the temperature might say its 84 degrees F but the real feel might be 95F. I don't know why they don't just say 95F but that's how it is the southeast... So imagine if you will mid June, being reopened with special rules, masks required for everyone 5 years old and older, and no buildings but restrooms open to the public. The amount of rude, hateful, uncaring people almost made me lose my complete faith in humanity, and its not very high to begin with. Also for context, I work in retail. I feel that says enough there. These rules extend till the end of the year and into part of 2021. While all of this is happening the US is having their presidential elections and everyone has crawled out of the woodwork that you had hoped would stay there. At this point I'm hoping for the best because we really need a paradigm shift in society. We need to truly need to change as a society and in many way, catch up to the rest of the world. I finally gave in a got to tiktok and realize that it is very much a time devourer. I've realized that I feel as if the term "Cassflux" fits how I feel about my gender best, and fully accepted my journey on the path of being a witch.

Lets move in to October, October I ( and my partner) travel to Texas (cautiously) for my cousin's socially distant wedding and our anniversary. That was amazing and the slight escape from reality was truly needed. On our way back we made a stop in NOLA and it was a fun visit, but I realized my baby witch self hadn't veiled or warded myself nearly enough and it got all of "spidey senses" all out of wack. knowing now what I should've done, I do want to go back. The rest of the year went by both incredibly slow and yet in a flash. The US elected a new president, I was working as hard a possible to avoid the virus as much as possible and my partner had gotten a new job with a different company that was making them more happy. So this brings us to 2021. This is the year that I feel that I am truly coming into my own despite living in the middle of a global Panda Express. January brings my turning a landmark age and celebrating it with a new hair style, new outlook on life, progress made in therapy, more self acceptance, and just overall more happiness. The world is still the same, better, but also worse. The vaccine is being produced, distributed, and made accessible. February brings another birthday with my partner's birthday. March rolls around and we jokingly celebrate our work's closing a year prior and then continue to work. The vaccine is made available to retail and food workers so I go and get the first round of the "Dolly Parton" vaccine with my co workers. (If you were wondering its Moderna) We go and receive the second dose later at the correct time. April and May kind of blend together for me because that the ramp up for the busy season at work. June & July are busy but everything is moving forwards. I finally take a step more into the current era of technology and upgrade my phone and computer. ( After several years of going back and forth of not wanting current gen tech or not, because that stuff be expensive!) I reconnect with an old friend and we have a much healthier friendship.

August....hecking August.. We are short staffed at work, busy as heck! My partner is also hecking busy by being called in for almost every problem. The world is deffo changing. The US is in a state of nah nah a boo boo with vaccinating vs not, virus outbreaks having an uptick, universities starting back, Texas deciding that the government gets a say in a woman's reproductive rights... sorry I'll try to not get political. My ( like many others) using tiktok as a means of escape from this reality.. I'm so beyond mentally exhausted by everything that I just want to be somewhere that I can breathe a bit more easy... Its deffo not the southeastern US. September: I. am. exhausted. Working a bunch. Dealing with people doubting the virus, the usual Karens and Richards, counting down my days to vacation. My partner is beyond exhaustion. They've worked more in the past six weeks that they have in two years. The 20th year of 9/11 comes and goes. Not to sound like a country song, but remembering where I was at the moment the planes hit is something that has stuck with me...despite my concussions. I was in my English class and its was between classes and they had the tvs on. So many parents were coming and calling their kids out the school got to the point they weren't going to let kids leave.. ( if the parents complained enough they did.. I was a poorer kid in a more affluent school) My parents weren't going to take me out of school so I finished the day out in a state of confusion, not understanding the gravitas of what was going on, and not understanding was the emotions I was feeling watching the crashes were. I don't claim to even comprehend the emotions of this date to people who lost loved ones in the crashes, or in the oncoming days of the country going to war, I just know how it felt as a child to see something so major happening. I feel its like the kids now living through this panic at the disco. [[If you read this and you lost someone due to either of these horrific events please know that I in no way am invalidating or belittling your feelings or experiences. I merely am trying to describe all of how I feel throughout 2020- roughly current day 2021 and these are the things I was thinking and feeling on this particular day.]]

The days start to blend again as I attempt to countdown the days till my short vacation. Once that starts I get to finally relax as does my partner. The amount of sleep my partner has gotten is incredible and they deserve it dang it! This brings us to today, The last day of September 2021. This are changing at work and I'm not wholly sure of how I feel but I know it will be an interesting discussion for me to have with my therapist coming up. That's all I've got for now.. Hopefully I'll pop back in sooner to give more perspective on what its like living through all of this chaos. Just keep moving forward.

#lostmoonbunny #globalpanini #livingthroughaglobalcrisis #itsachaoticworld #life update #my life #grow #hopeful #becoming me #very tired

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broadstbroskis · 4 years

Text

more than friends | travis konecny

“Stop doing that.” You try and shove blindly at the hand that’s stroking gently down your side. “I’m trying to sleep.”

Travis chuckles, and slowly, you blink your eyes open to see him lying next to you, already dressed in his suit and ready for a team travel day. “I’m trying to say goodbye to you!”

“It’s too early.” You mumble pathetically. His bed is comfy and warm and you really don’t want to leave it yet, but you know you don’t really have a right to stay in it when he leaves- after all, you guys aren’t together, even if sometimes when you start to examine this friends-with-benefits-thing you’ve got going you might think you want more.

You try to shut those thoughts down quickly.

Travis laughs again. “It’s almost 11am!” Which he’s right, really isn’t that early...except for how late the two of you were up last night.

“Ugh, already?”

Another laugh and then he’s kissing your forehead. “I know. Lock up when you leave okay? I left you a key on the counter.”

“Mm, kay.” You’re already rolling back into the warm pillow, accepting the soft kiss he presses into your forehead and half asleep when he says bye one last time.

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

A few days later, you’re walking to lunch with your best friend, Kelsey, when your phone rings. Choosing to ignore the look your friend is currently shooting you, you slide to answer the call and can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. “Hey!”

“Hey-Patty, stop it!” For a second, Travis sounds far away from the phone, but then he’s back. “How are you?”

“I’m good!” You laugh, amused at their antics. “What’s going on there?”

“Just Patty being a dick.” Travis’ voice lifts at the end, like he wants to make sure his best friend can hear him.

“I standby my statement!” You can hear Nolan Patrick call back, so he (unsurprisingly) must not be far. “You just can’t handle the truth!”

“Finish setting up the xbox!” Travis calls back.

“Then stop fucking talking to me!”

You giggle at the two of them and then again as Travis mutters a few choice names at his best friend, before turning back to you. “What are you up to today?”

“Kels and I are doing some holiday stuff. Shopping. Lunch.” You shrug. “Maybe find some Christmas-y stuff to do if we have time.”

“Nice. Where’s lunch at?”

“I’m taking her to that burger place we tried last week.” Truly the best burger you’d ever had. The two of you were still raving about it days afterwards, dying for the chance to go back.

Travis gasps dramatically. “You’re going back without me?”

“We won’t have time to go together until like, January!” You protest, kind of laughing. “Between your schedule and mine!”

“Fine!” He sighs dramatically. “Put it on the calendar then; we’re going back in first thing in January!”

“Deal.” You laugh. “And I’ll eat two burgers for you today!”

“You think you’ll be able to get a second burger down?” You can practically hear his eyebrows raise; the disbelief is so clear.

“Well probably not,” You admit. The burgers are huge. “But it’s the thought that counts, right?’

Travis laughs. “Exactly.” After a moment’s pause, he continues. “Well, I’ll let you go. Have fun with Kels today. We’ll talk after the game tonight.”

“Sounds good,” You smile. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

“That was for Nols.” You tease. “Good luck finding some peace and quiet.” You can hear Nolan’s laughter in the back just barely over Travis’ loud protest. “But for the game too, I guess.” And then you two make your goodbyes.

“Wow,” Kelsey remarks, the instant the call ends.

“What?” You say, looking over at her.

“For a guy you’re “not dating”,” She puts actual air quotes around the words you’ve thrown out about Travis many times now, to show the skepticism she’s expressed just as often about your relationship. “That call sure felt pretty relationship-y.”

“We’re just friends!” You insist.

“Who go out to dinner together?”

“They have great burgers, you’ll see!”

“Who make plans to go out together?”

“Because we’re both super busy-”

“That what- you won’t be able to see each other?” She arches a brow at you. “You’ll see him in bed when he gets home.”

You blush. “That’s-”

Kelsey actually stops walking to stare at you. “He’s going to call you tonight after his game to talk to you before bed. You know who calls at the end of their work day while they’re away on a business trip? Boyfriends!”

“I don’t think he wants that.” You shrug. “We’re good like this. Friends is good.”

Kelsey groans. “You guys are way more than friends. You’re like already three years into a relationship.”

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

One morning shortly after that incident with Kelsey that you’re refusing to think about, you’re woken up to the smell of fresh coffee. Travis is standing with two full mugs, but standing nonetheless, and even worse, he’s already dressed. “Do you have something against sleeping in on days off?”

He hands you one of the mugs and you inhale the scent before taking a sip. “Let’s go Christmas shopping.”

You look down at the mug in your hand. “So this is a bribe?”

Travis nods. “And there’s more where that came from!” More coffee is very enticing but it’s his next statement that gets you. “We’ll go for breakfast first, too?”

“Done!” You throw the blankets down and stand, mentally assessing the current state of your clean clothes at his place. “Let me go steal a flannel and brush my teeth and I’ll be ready to go.”

And so it’s only two hours later that the two of your are walking through Philly, searching for gifts for his parents. “Well, what do you think they’ll like?”

Travis shrugs. “Dunno.”

You shake your head. “Such a man.”

He stops walking. “That felt like it was supposed to hurt, YN and I’m not sure I like it.”

You stop with him and laugh. “And what if it was? You shouldn’t have left your shopping for two days before Christmas!”

He reaches for your hand, tangling your fingers and tucking both your hands in his pocket for warmth, forcing the two of you to stay close while you walk. “Lucky I’ve got someone to help me find something then, yeah?”

“Yeah yeah,” You laugh again. “Let’s just go in a few places. See if something hits us.”

He kisses your cheek mid-stride. “Thank you.”

A few stores later and you’ve managed to make some good strides finding gifts. Most of his family’s been covered and all that’s left is his mom. You two have already been to four different stores- a clothes store, two home decorating stores, and a cute little tea shop- and he still hasn’t found anything he liked. The next stop had been a jewelry store, and once Travis had made faces at five of your suggestions, you’d moved away from his and the sales woman’s discussion about bracelets to browse on your own.

“This one would look great on you.” Another sales woman approaches the case you’re standing in front of.

“Hmm?” To be honest, you were kind of focused on the sapphire necklace further down the case, but you politely turn your attention to her at her words.

“This one.” She pulls a diamond ring out of the case and holds it out to you. “I think it’d be well suited to you.”

“Um-” You’re in actual shock, can’t bring yourself to say anything. Does she...she actually thinks…

“Go ahead and try it on.” She winks at you. “We’ll see if he catches the hint.”

“Heh.” You say awkwardly, unsure exactly what your face is doing. It doesn’t feel like it’s doing something great, that’s for sure. There’s no fricking way Travis didn’t hear this, not with how this lady is practically shouting it across the store.

Is she even shouting? Or is that just your heartbeat pounding in your ears, making everything seem so much louder?

Either way, it seems like time moves in slow motion as she reaches across the counter for your left hand and slips the ring onto your finger at the exact same moment that Travis slips up next to you with a new bag in hand. “YN, are you read-”

If time had slowed when the sales lady was slipping the ring on you, it stops altogether in the moment after, when Travis realizes exactly what’s on your finger and your eyes meet. His eyes are wide, darkening by the second, but then he locks down all the emotion as he moves his gaze down to the ring and you’re stuck. There’s too much and too little air, it’s too hot and too cold, you’re frozen in place and dying to run.

“It’s beautiful!” The sales woman gushes, as if she didn’t just cause this huge panic between both of you. “That is a perfect ring for you, don’t you think?”

You rip your gaze over to her in even more of a panic, so you know she’s looking at Travis when she says that, but he’s still looking at the ring when he responds. “Yeah, it is.”

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

“So.” Kelsey bounces on the opposite end of the couch. “Are we going to talk about how you’ve been wallowing on the couch in misery since you came back home from Christmas?”

“No.” You grumble.

“Ok.” She says, patting the ankle closest to her. “Let me rephrase. Let’s talk about how you’ve been wallowing on the couch in misery since you came back home from Christmas.”

If you wanted to get technical, it was before you came back from Christmas- you’ve been pretty miserable since you and Travis parted after the jewelry store incident occurred two days before Christmas. You’d said a very awkward goodbye after leaving the store and neither of you had made contact since.

No phone calls. No texts. No snapchats. Nothing.

You’d made a concerted effort to be happy over Christmas while back with your family but the second you’d come home to Philly again, the facade had dropped. That it had taken her this long before confronting you about this seemed like a holiday miracle in and of itself.

“I guess.” You shrug. “I guess I didn’t think I was this attached.”

Kelsey stares at you flatly. “How could you think that?”

“‘I don’t know! I mean, I knew I liked him. I just didn’t think it’d hurt this much to know he didn’t like me!”

Kelsey has never looked so unimpressed with you. “You’re a dumbass.”

“Hey!” You protest. “I am upset! You should be supporting me.”

She ignores you. “You’re both dumbasses. I’ll support you when you two get your shit together and smarten up.”

You frown. “Can you at least support me by running out and getting wine? We’re out.”

“Fine, but this ends tonight.” She stands, grabbing her jacket off the chair. “Tomorrow you get dressed like a real human and we’re going out in public.”

You make a face but can tell by her tone that she’s serious. But it’s either this or no wine. “Deal.”

She’s only gone a minute or two when there’s a knock at the door again and you huff, throwing your blankets down to go throw the door open for her. “What’d you forget?”

“Uhh.” Travis stands there hesitantly, still holding his fist up, like he’s ready to knock again.

“You’re not Kelsey.” Is the only thing you can think so say.

“Uh no.” He shakes his head. “No, I’m not.” He pauses. “Can, uh, can I come in?” He rubs the back of his head hesitantly.

It’s awkward when you move aside to let him in. He’s so familiar in the space, knowing exactly where to hang his coat and put his keys, but the silence between you two is suffocating. Normally you two are laughing, joking around, even just making light conversation about how your days were if nothing else. But there’s rarely silence and certainly nothing so uncomfortable as this, and suddenly you can’t take it.

“So about-” You start, just as he says. “I wanted-”

It works to cut the tension, at least a bit, as you both laugh a little. “You want first?” He offers and you think for a second, before nodding.

“So that was weird. The other day.” Gentle. Easy. Not a bad place to start, right?

Travis nods slowly. “It was.” And there it is. You brace yourself for what’s next- that you guys are great friends and that it’s time to back off things for a while. “But I think what was weirder was that it didn’t actually seem that weird?” Your jaw drops and Travis breaks into a grin. “Alright good.”

“What?”

He takes a step closer to you. “I’ve been thinking for the last week about how not weird it was to see an engagement ring on you and panicking about how I wasn’t panicking about it until I realized every milestone we’ve hit before that. You have a key to my place. My parents asked about you when they called on Christmas this year. You’re my go to person for everything and I really hope that I’m yours.” For the first time, he looks a little nervous, but he steamrolls on anyway. “And I love you and I want to be with you, and only you, and even though I haven’t actually been with anyone other than you since last year, I figure we should make this official, and someday I’m going to make it really official and put that ring back on your finger, but-”

You cut him off before he can go anymore. “I love you.”

It’s incredible to see his face light up, the smile growing and lighting up the entire thing. “I love you.” He repeats and before you get the chance to say it again, he’s entirely in your space, kissing you.

#travis konecny #travis konecny imagine #hockey imagines #nhl imagines #hockey fanfiction #nhl fanfiction #my hockey fics

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dustedmagazine · 3 years

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Ian Mathers’ 2020: We’re stuck inside our own machines

I’ve had a song I loved in high school and haven’t thought much about since stuck in my head. The song “Apparitions” by the Matthew Good Band is a fine example of the alt rock of the late 90s; if you grew up then but somewhere down in the states (or elsewhere) instead of my southern Ontario you may well have your regional equivalents, and like this one they may not resonate terribly strongly outside of their time and place. It popped back into my head after a long time recently and of course 2020 has changed it a little. A song that as a teen I felt keenly as about loneliness (albeit also about how technology can feed into that) of course now plays on my nerves as another small piece of art about the way that most of us (those scared and/or responsible anyway) have only that relatively narrow, technologically mediated connection to the people we love. All of us, artists and listeners alike, are trying to fit our feelings and art and selves down these little connections, with some success.

On a personal level, 2020 wound up being stressful in ways we couldn’t have predicted even after the pandemic hit. In circumstances that could have seen governments on this continent support those unable to work (and those who shouldn’t have to), support those workers who are truly essential, support workers and renters and even landlords and small businesses, instead we got a near-total abeyance of those governments using the resources we provide them with to save any of us. On a personal level my wife and I were lucky enough to be able to work from home (not that it didn’t come with its own forms of stress, and now that I’m off until January I have several work/stress-related illnesses to recover from) but still saw friends and loved ones lose good, used-to-be-sustainable livings overnight, saw family businesses succumb to a near-total absence of effective government support after months of trying to keep above water, etc.

It is probably no surprise that this is not a situation conducive to listening to music, let alone writing about it; I have deliberately and happily kept busy on behind the scenes stuff at Dusted that I could still manage but looking, at the end of the year, at the amount I managed to actually create is demoralizing if not at all shocking. I’m not sure I think next year will be ‘better’ in many important ways, although at our job there is a growing feeling among coworkers that next year has to have some work/life balance because 2020 was, maybe more than anything else, unsustainable.

That’s not to say I didn’t spend a lot of time and emotion on music this year, and if nothing else constant sleep deprivation, stress, and panic meant I was probably open to being deeply moved by all sorts of art even more than normally (it’s gotten to the point where I can’t even read a sad or moving twitter thread out loud to my wife without getting teary, which is kind of… nice?). Funnily enough the band that did the most to keep me sane didn’t really put out anything in 2020. Personal favorite, Low, instead started, in early April, getting on Instagram with something they called on whim “It’s Friday I’m in Low.” With one brief break they have now done by my count at least 35 shows (catalogued here, by the way), every Friday at about 4 my time.

Admittedly it’s easier for Low to pull this off than some bands, since the 2/3 of the trio that sing are a married couple (they’ve had a couple of socially-distanced backyard shows with bassist Steve Garrington, but he’s mostly been isolating elsewhere). These shows have seen the band’s Alan Sparhawk take a mid-set break to do follow-up phone interviews with the acts featured in the COVID-curtailed touring bands series Vansplainingthat they started on YouTube, or just to give a tour round their vegetable garden and talk tips. It’s seen Alan and Mimi Parker draw on their impressive, 25+ year body of work (averaging 4-5 songs a set, I don’t think they’ve repeated themselves yet) and talk a bit between songs about pandemics, politics, song choices, and whether Alan should grab his bike helmet this time.

They’re not the only musicians out there speaking love and sanity (and playing music) into the strange digital interzone filled with hate and disinformation where we’ve all been forced to gather while locked down, but they were and the most consistent and steady signal being emitted each week. No matter how tired I was from work or what new symptoms I’d developed or what horrific thing I read into the news, even if I had to take an emergency nap while it was actually airing, every Friday the show was there. Once things do return to something more like normal, it’s one of the few things I’ll unambiguously miss about this weird-ass year.

So if that makes an argument for Low as my band of the year (admittedly again… it’s not like Double Negative has aged poorly, either), that does a disservice to those 2020 records I did connect with; even if there are still literally dozens I have to go through, many of which I expect to love, my top picks this year (if as unrankable by me as always) hit me as hard as any top pick in recent years did. So here I present a quick and informal top 5, which the rest of my top 20 following in alphabetical order. Here’s hoping for more time and space in 2021 for music, and even more than that, for more support for those who need it from those who could have been providing it all this time. (The Matthew Good Band, incidentally, always did best with their ballads. “Strange Days” is another I’ve had in my head these days; the image of moving “backwards, into a wall of fire” has stuck with me since the 90s and it’s never felt more grimly appropriate.)

Greet Death — New Hell

New Hell by Greet Death

This one is, in some sense, cheating; it came out November 2019. But that just means it’s the latest winner of my personal Torres Prize for Ian Being Late to the Party (so named because becoming slightly obsessed with Torres’ Sprinter just after I sent in my 2015 list was the first time I noticed that one of my favorite records of each year tends to get picked up by me just after I call it quits on the year, no matter how long I try to wait). This very doom and gloom slowcore/metal/(whatever, just know it’s heavy) trio at first felt very much like my beloved Cloakroom (whose Time Well has also won a Torres Prize) but sure enough nuances revealed themselves. Back in February it felt almost a little too negative, but then the rest of 2020 happened. And the extended burns of “You’re Gonna Hate What You’ve Done” and the title track remain searing.

Holy Fuck — Deleter

youtube

Probably the record I’ve been trying to write about the longest in 2020, and the one I’m most disappointed in myself that I just couldn’t get the requisite paragraphs together. It’s a wonderful effort from the consistently great Toronto resolutely human-created (and —mediated) dance music quartet, one that both feels like a summation of everything they do well, and with the addition of some outside voices (including strong turns from the singers of both Hot Chip and Liars) a step forward at the same time.

Spanish Love Songs — Brave Faces Everyone

Brave Faces Everyone by Spanish Love Songs

As the year got worse, this roar of defiance only got more crucial for me to hear every so often; I was a big enough fan of it, even after writing it up for Dusted, that when they solicited fan footage for a subsequent music video you may just be able to get a glimpse of me in it. (I’m the one in a “No Tories” t-shirt.) My punk rock-loving twin brother was the one who introduced me to Spanish Love Songs and we were supposed to spend an evening in June screaming along to them live in a packed, sweaty room. I need that in my life again.

Julianna Barwick — Healing Is a Miracle

Healing Is A Miracle by Julianna Barwick

It’s a sign of what 2020 has been like here that even just this album title leaves bruises, and while I privately worried Barwick would have a hard time following up 2016’s sublime Will (probably my favorite record that year), it seems that continuing to take whatever downtime she needs to keep focusing and refining her particular muse has once again yielded amazing results. Anyone who thinks they know what a Barwick track sounds like should really check out, say, “Flowers”, but much of this record absolutely sounds like Barwick, just even better than before. She also boasted my wife and I's favorite streaming concert of 2020, an absolutely gorgeous rendition of this album with Mary Lattimore showing up.

Phoebe Bridgers — Punisher

Punisher by Phoebe Bridgers

I joked on Twitter recently that I have far too nice a dad (and far too good a relationship with him) to be as obsessed as I am with Phoebe Bridgers’ “Kyoto”, but here we are. Like most of her generation, Bridgers’ social media presence ranges from shit-posting to inscrutable, but even though things are often just as hard to figure out in her beautiful songs (as they often are in life), there’s an emotional clarity to them that can just grab you deep down. Couple that with seriously impressive songcraft and the progress from her already astounding debut Stranger in the Alps and more than anyone else in 2020 I’m excited to see just where the hell Phoebe Bridgers is going to go, because it feels like she’s talented and hardworking enough to go just about anywhere and drag a lot of our hearts with her.

Other Favorites

Aidan Baker & Gareth Davis — Invisible Cities II

Anastasia Minster — Father

Deftones — Ohms

Hum — Inlet

Kelly Lee Owens — Inner Song

Mesarthim — The Degenerate Era

Perfume Genius — Set My Heart On Fire Immediately

Protomartyr — Ultimate Success Today

Rachel Kiel — Dream Logic

The Ridiculous Trio — The Ridiculous Trio Plays the Stooges

Sam Amidon — Sam Amidon

Shabason, Krgovich & Harris — Philadelphia

Stars Like Fleas — DWARS Session: Live on Radio VPRO

Well Yells — We Mirror the Dead

Yves Tumour — Heaven to a Tortured Mind

Five Reissues/Compilations/etc.

Aix Em Klemm — Aix Em Klemm

Bardo Pond — Adrop/Circuit VIII

Charles Curtis — Performances & Recordings 1998-2018

Coil — Musick to Play in the Dark

Hot Chip — LateNightTales

Ian Mathers

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nate-santos · 3 years

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Friend or Dough || Nate & Orion

TIMING: Early January LOCATION: Fondante’s Inferno PARTIES: @3starsquinn @nate-santos SUMMARY: Rio comes to get some late night sweets CONTENT WARNINGS: Just sweet fun!

It was long past dark by the time that Orion finally left the Scribrary. A glance at his phone as he hiked through the woods to get to the closest parking lot where he could pull the car up told him that it was just past two in the morning. He weighed his options. He could drive back to the house and try to scrounge up some food. This late in the night, that wasn’t exactly ideal. But the late hour didn’t leave many options either. He was more than familiar with the Fondante’s Inferno than any normal, sane person probably should be. One perk of living with his nightmare of a family came with a seemingly endless allowance that allowed him to divulge in any sweet tooth craving he had. Now, he didn’t even want to know how much money he had dropped at the bakery since he had moved out on his own. He had a bad habit of dropping in at late hours and ordering in bulk to keep at the Scribrary as his own personal self serve buffet.

By the time he got to the bakery, it was inching closer and closer to that three in the morning deadline, and Orion rushed into the shop in a hurry, out of breath and already offering apologies. “Hey! I’m sorry. So sorry. I don’t mean to keep you any later than you’re already here. I was hoping to get here before you closed.” He tried perusing the leftover goods as he rested his palms on his knees and tried to catch his breath. There wasn’t much that wasn’t good at this bakery, ran by a guy around the same age and wildly more successful than himself clearly. Luckily, the guy seemed incredibly nice. “How’s it going tonight? Busy day?” At almost three in the morning, it wasn’t any surprise that Rio found himself as the only remaining customer in the place. But he always recommended the place to others and hoped that during normal hours the place stayed busy.

Late nights didn’t bother Nate. Sure, it was his shop and he could set the hours, but late at night, the town seemed to become a more peaceful place. Plus he never wanted to alienate the previous owners’ regulars, even if he never seemed to have what they were looking for. The usual “after bar” crowd had just finished filtering out and Nate looked at the clock. Three was coming on quick and he hadn’t seen his most regular regular yet. His brow furrowed and he set about sweeping up and cashing out the register, happy to be alone for a bit. Easing his way back into the storefront had been harder than anticipated. More than one of his usual customers had apparently shifted in his subconscious to be more monstrous than friendly and it was difficult to focus when the old woman you’ve known your whole life was staring at you with glowing red eyes.

Like a tornado, someone rushed into the shop, breathlessly looking over the day’s last fresh pastries. Nate spun on his heel at the sound of the door, nearly tripping over the dustpan he’d just dropped, only to feel relief wash over him like a tidal wave. “Orion! Hey!” He propped the broom against the counter as the rush of adrenaline eased its way through his body. “You know you never have to apologize for keeping me late, you’re my best customer,” he laughed, prepping a few boxes for whatever the guy picked out tonight. “Not so busy, mostly just pick ups and stuff. But not too shabby.” It was more than a relief to say that Orion looked entirely and perfectly normal. Regular human, no scary teeth or hands or scales to be seen. “What’s keeping you out so late?” He asked, already putting a few of the older pastries in a box.

Nate was always a friendly face, and someone that Orion was especially happy to give business too. It was only a plus, or to go too far into a pun, the cherry on top, that the food was incredible. The two had found a sort of easy groove with each other. Rio showed up at odd hours and bought way too many baked goods at once and Nate was incredibly friendly about it and even seemed to specifically make things that he knew Rio liked. The latter of which had not gone unnoticed by Rio, who was especially thankful. “Oh I’m sure that’s not true. I’m sure there are plenty of other good customers that show up during like… normal people hours.” Rio laughed nervously, never quite sure how to properly accept compliments. “Besides, you make it very easy to want to come back.” Deflecting with his own compliments was usually the best line of defense that Rio had. “Oh you know. The usual.” Rio shrugged, trying to think of exactly what the usual was. He hated lying, even to people he didn’t necessarily know very well. “I get caught up in an assignment or studying and end up staying too late.” That was about as truthful as he could be to someone that didn’t know about the Scribrary. “Wanted to make sure I stopped by before you closed though. Wouldn’t want to miss out on whatever you came up with today.”

Nate chuckled as Rio perused the goods. “Sure, but boring people come at normal hours and what fun is that?” It was a joke, but Nate wished it was true. What he wouldn’t give for all his customers to actually be normal again. His smile flickered for only a moment before he was back to his jovial self. Something about Rio always brought this side of him back to the forefront. It was like the accident never happened and he could joke and have small talk without the fear that now always lingered in the back of his mind. “Speaking of,” Nate said with a glimmer in his eye before racing to the back mid sentence. “I’ve got something for you to try!” He called, rummaging through boxes to find the new recipe he’d been playing with. Carrying it gingerly back out to the front as if it were some precious heirloom, Nate presented the tarts to his patron. “Chocolate blueberry tarts with a hint of lime. I know it sounds weird, but seriously.” Nate made the chef kiss motion with his hands. “Maybe these will help get you through the late night study sessions.” He could tell there was probably more to it than just studying late, but Nate didn’t like to pry. If people wanted to let him into their lives, they would. It never did any good to try to force your way in, especially when it’s really none of your business.

Unwrapping one of the tarts, Nate held it up for a little cheers. It was customary at this point for them to try some of his new creations together and while they weren’t all winners, they were usually still pretty darn good if he said so himself. Nate was a little apprehensive about this batch, given that he’d been low on yeast and had to dip into his bread delivery box to make the crust, but it couldn’t actually be sentient, right? That was just a marketing gimmick. “Cheers! To late nights and delicious sweets!”

Orion laughed with Nate, ignoring that there probably wasn’t anyone in town more boring than Rio himself. Sure, terrifying and arguably exciting things seemed to happen around him. But those all seemed adjacent to the hermit that Rio actually was. At least that’s how he wanted to be. Between the hunter heritage, the supernatural library and the part where he may or may not have murdered his parents he felt like he should be a lot more interesting than he actually was. “Well I can’t say that I’m not super boring. My book bag is filled with like twenty pounds of random history books and autobiographies. But I appreciate the compliment anyways.” Nate got sidetracked quickly, rushing into the back. Through the doors, Rio could hear him search until he pushed back out into the main area holding a tray of what looked to be some kind of tart or pastry. Rio’s face brightened, but he didn’t react until Nate actually named the sweets. “Oh my god. Did you say blueberry? You’re a god send.” Rio clapped excitedly, swinging the book bag off of his back and dropping it onto the floor with a heavy thud. Nate had always been open to asking Rio’s feedback on some of the new creations. When it came to sweets, Rio was practically a raccoon. He would eat just about anything Nate offered, and he usually ended up liking it. Though Nate must have picked up on how much Rio loved pairing blueberry in his pastries. “My two favorite things!” Rio raised a tart in the air before biting into it. The odd trio of flavors may have sounded strange, but the combination blended perfectly and Rio released a happy sigh after two more bites to finish the thing off. “Holy crap that’s so good. Thank you for sharing this!” Rio licked his lips of any leftover chocolate before speaking again, “The bread tasted a little different this time. Good, just different. Is it something new?”

Nate had always felt like Rio was a kindred spirit, and tonight was no different. “I don’t think that’s so boring,” he replied before taking a bite of his own tart. Nate loved his historical books, even if it seemed a bit lame at times. Biographies were some of the most interesting stories out there. “You know the saying, Stranger than Fiction?” He smiled, taking another bite. Man, he hit it out of the park with these. Nate closed his eyes for a moment, letting the flavors sink in. Baking was one of the few things that brought him complete and utter peace and this flipping tart was no different. He’d really have to make more of an effort to find his secret bread admirer, ‘cause this batch of yeast had done wonders for the recipe. “You really like it?” He asked through a mouthful of blueberries. He could always trust Rio to give him an honest review, but it seemed more and more likely that the kid was gonna enjoy anything he gave him. “I tried a new type of yeast,” he answered, his face falling a bit. “Can you really tell?” Sudden insecurity gripped him, pausing his glut fest mid bite. No...something else was gripping him...Nate’s eyes traveled down to the half eaten tart in his hand that seemed to now be grabbing his hand back. “U-uh...O-Orion?”

“I think you’re one of the few then.” Orion laughed, thinking on how many people would find something like reading biographies incredibly boring. Even if they knew the subject was supernatural. Luckily, Rio had found quite a few friends that appreciated his lackluster hobbies. Even if they themselves didn’t find it super interesting, they never held that against Rio. In fact, it came in handy sometimes. “Real life is definitely a lot weird than anything a fictional book could sell me.” Rio agreed, unsure how much Nate actually knew about how weird real life actually was. But now wasn’t the time to fall too deeply into that. Right now, he wanted to focus exclusively on enjoying these ridiculously good sweets that Nate had brought out to try. “Of course. It’s hard not to like something you make.” Rio admitted, savoring another bite before he tried to answer Nate’s question. Admittedly, Rio didn’t know if the enhanced senses included taste. But he knew that he had always been pretty good at picking out individual flavors. Plus, he actually tasted the flavoring in la croix. Apparently that wasn’t normal. “Oh uh- yeah it’s nothing bad. I’m just sensitive to-” Rio’s bad excuse for an explanation was cut off when Nate said his name again. Rio met his confused look and glanced down at his hand, the tart that was on it seemed to be… moving. And sticking onto the man’s arm. On instinct, Rio flung his own tart onto the ground and slid away from it. “Um. What is that?! Nate drop the tart!”

Talk about stranger than fiction. Nate’s eyes went wide as dinner plates as he begun trying to flick the tart off his hand, his heart racing. “I can’t! I can’t get it off?!” All thoughts of how pleased he’d been to hear how much Rio had enjoyed his baking had dissipated, thrown out the window by tiny dough hands. “Get it off me!!” Nate flung his hand as hard as he could and the little tart thankfully flew off, landing with a dull smoosh on the counter. Apparently this act had betrayed their very existence as the half eaten tart was joined by the four untouched pastries. Gracelessly, they each sprouted a foot or a hand or an arm, limping around the counter with surprising speed. “What the heck- I’ve made a monster!!” Nate grabbed for a weapon, coming up with only a flour covered rolling pin. Better than nothing. He slammed it at the tiny monsters, wondering if Rio even saw these things too or if it was another of his hallucinations.

Orion was hopping back and forth from what foot to another, frantically waving his arms as he tried to figure out what the heck was going on. Nothing about monster bread had ever shown up in any of the Scribe books that he had read. Why hadn’t monster bread shown up? The passing thought that Rio would need to write his own entry only vaguely crossed his mind before he pushed it to the side to move beside Nate after he got the tart detached from his skin. The other tarts were starting to move now too, pieces of the bread morphing and extending into shapes resembling limbs. “What the-” Rio mumbled, trying to think of what could have possibly caused something like that. Nate grabbed a rolling pin and was smacking at the counter now while Rio stood back and stared at the man in a daze. “Be careful!” Rio finally yelled when he broke from the daydream. “How the heck is this happening right now?"

Judging by Rio’s reaction, Nate wasn’t the only one who could see the little creatures. At least that was a small relief, though the moment quickly faded as a tart-monster leapt off the counter, launching itself directly at Orion’s face. “Look out!!” Nate jumped back, slamming his rolling pin down on another tart, catching its little, deformed leg and flattening it. “I don’t know!! I- what are these things??” Panic swelled up inside him and Nate wondered if this is what people meant when they always said “oh yeah, anything can happen here in White Crest,” as if crazy nonsense like this occurred all the time. “I used- a new- yeast!” It was the only variable. When the delivery message said it was sentient, Nate didn’t take that literally. “Ah!” He yelped, jumping back from a one armed little tart that was eliciting what would arguably be an adorable sound as it attempted to tie Nate’s shoelaces together. “How do we make it stop??”

A piece of evil baked bread launched itself at Orion, but before he could move to swat it away a rolling pin swung down and smacked it midair. “Uh- Thanks” Rio stared at the splattered bakery item on the ground, still managing to slowly move as it slowly puffed itself up. “Great question. I wish I had a better answer.” He couldn’t help but think back to the watermelons that had tried to kill him and Skylar. Why was food so hell bent on murdering people in this town? Regardless, he made a mental note that he needed to try to look into an explanation after this. Not that now was the time to be scheduling study sessions. “New yeast. Right.” This was literally monster bread. Jesus Christ. “We uh-” He paused to consider their options. Hitting the things didn’t kill them. If they could piece themselves back together he wasn’t sure cutting them up would either. “Bake them? Like uh- for a long time?” Rio suggested, sliding forward and using his heel to stomp on a piece of bread trying to… trip Nate to death? Rio still wasn’t clear on their motives.

Nate had once been an athletic guy, never on the baseball team but he’d play in the yard with his brother all the time growing up. Never in a million years did he think any of those skills would come in handy regarding keeping him and his friend safe from literal murder bread. Every gremlin they smacked down or flattened seemed to immediately rise again and Nate cursed the gifted yeast. What a sick joke! “Burn them?” Nate’s face fell. Sure, it was probably their best option at stopping the things once and for all, but it hurt his baking heart to think of intentionally burning his newest recipe, especially when it had originally gotten such a glowing review from Rio. He wanted to cry, but was instantly derailed as he tripped over his shoelaces. “Ok - but let it be known I hate that I have to do this,” he whined, kicking his shoes off as quickly as possible. “Preheat that oven and turn it all the way up!” He pointed at the small convection oven behind the counter and began to try and pile all the little monsters up on a baking sheet.

“Noted!” Orion yelled, darting forward and vaulting over the bakery counter. He chalked it up to mostly dumb luck plus a decent amount of his own training that he had jumped and slid across the counter so easily instead of tripping and falling over it instead. Growing up, his body had always been quick to remind him that strength and agility didn’t fix clumsiness. Then again, adrenaline seemed to help his body work without relying too much on the anxiety frying his brain. He made his way to the oven, swatting away a piece of tart, an actual thing he actually had to do right now. This town was exhausting. Rio spun the dial of the oven, turning it as high as it could go. Another tart launching itself at Rio, grabbing onto his clothes and crawling up his shirt. “Ew, ew, ew” Rio repeated to himself as he slapped aimlessly around his body until he finally got hold of the baked good. He pulled it off and tossed it into the oven. It had only just begun heating, but Rio shut the door and made his way back to the counter. Couldn’t a two in the morning bakery run just be normal?

Trying to keep all the struggling tarts on one single surface was proving more difficult than Nate had imagined. Luckily Rio seemed to have gotten to the oven and though it wouldn’t be nearly hot enough just yet, they could at least start chucking some of these monsters in. “Here! Catch!” Nate flung the baking sheet up, attempting to toss the little beasts through the air and towards the oven, his eyes moving from his target only momentarily when he stomped down on a spare piece of dough that had fallen off. Abandoning the sheet, Nate started grabbing the few tarts that were left and started throwing them like it was the bottom of the ninth and his life depended on it. “Ok, last one then slam that door shut and pray this works!!”

As far as life dangers went, Orion didn’t think that creepy living bread made the list. Still, the idea of something he had just taken a bite out of was alive and moving was beyond unsettling. Rio heard Nate call out and he looked over in time to see a pan being flung in his direction. He darted forward, grabbing onto the pan and moving back over to crack the oven open enough for him to dump them inside. Before long, Nate had started chucking the bread in Rio’s direction. Rio grabbed what he could, dropping them in and bending down to scoop up any that he missed. Finally, Nate was done. A quick glance around told them that they had grabbed all of the remaining pieces that could be seen. Rio left the oven closed, resting against it to make sure that it stayed closed. The little monsters didn’t seem particularly strong, but he wasn’t ready to take any chances. He didn’t look at the window into the oven. He didn’t want to see them against the glass, trying to get out. Bread or not, he had no interest in watching something that moved get burnt to a crisp. “So uh… this was pretty weird, right?”

Nate deflated against the counter, wiping off a few crumbs from his face. “Weird is an understatement, I think…” He dropped his head onto the wood, his cheek squishing against the cool surface. “I don’t- I’ve never...have you??” He couldn’t even begin to describe what he’d seen. It didn’t make any rational sense. As the adrenaline poured out of his body, no longer needed to keep him in defense mode, Nate felt himself sink to the floor like a puddle. To say this was the weirdest thing that had ever happened to him might be a lie, but this wasn’t like when he looked at some people around town and they looked like horrific monsters. That was a hallucination, something wrong with his actual brain. These...Rio had seen these too. Nate looked up at his friend. “What would do something like that?? How is that r-real?”

Orion refused to take any pressure off of the oven door. He didn’t think the now crisping pieces of living bread had the strength to open the door, but they were also all stuffed in there together. He had seen enough gross horror movies to know that weird things like that could combine together and grow in size or something else equally awful. His plan was to keep this door closed until the things in there looked like charcoal. Only problem was that he didn’t actually want to look to see what they looked like. “No. Definitely never seen anything like that. That was a first.” He really thought that he had reached some sort of imaginary wall in terms of being surprised by supernatural creatures. Good to know the bar could always be set higher. “So judging by your reaction I’m going to guess that your bread does not do that on the regular?” Surprisingly, Rio found himself almost amused by the situation. For someone who was constantly freaking out about everything, Rio was a bit confused by his own reaction. Though he supposed in the grand scheme of things, the bread wasn’t nearly as deadly as most of the other things that Rio got attacked by. “That honestly makes me feel so much better about how often I eat here. I was about to be a bit worried.”

Nate almost laughed, running his hands through his hard. “No...no randomly coming to life is usually not on my menu.” He scooted up to his knees, peering over the counter at the oven. From here, it didn’t look like there was any movement within, but Nate was glad that Orion seemed to have the same thought about not leaving the oven door unattended. He cracked an exhausted, waning adrenaline smile. “Why, you think I should add it? I think they’ll be a crowd pleaser!” It was impossible not to make light of what had just happened. It was just...entirely ludicrous. Nate half expected himself to be dreaming. “I don’t normally make a habit out of using random ingredients...but…” Nate shoved himself to his feet and started rustling through a drawer, pulling out a neatly folded piece of paper and handing it to Rio.

“CONGRATULATIONS. We heard you like to BAKE. A friend has subscribed you to WEEKLY DELIVERIES of SENTIENT BREAD. Please ENJOY this PAINED SOURDOUGH BREAD STARTER. We look forward to sending you more SENTIENT BREAD. We CONGRATULATE you.”

“I got this about a month ago and...well this is the yeast I used to make those tarts...this is just a joke, right?”

Orion laughed sarcastically, emitting a sigh as he still struggled to capture his breath. This hadn’t been particularly exhausting physically, but the whole ordeal had drained him. It didn’t help that it was the middle of the night. “Yeah I uh- think it’ll get a real rise out of customers.” Rio cringed at his own joke and made a mental note that puns probably weren’t for him. He grabbed onto the piece of paper that Nate offered and read it over multiple times. What the heck was this? And who would send it? And why were there so many capital letters? “So someone sent this to you? I guess… as a joke?” Rio didn’t find it particularly funny personally, but to each their own. Admittedly, the bread hadn’t exactly been dangerous. At least, not that they had seen. Maybe this was all some sort of weird prank? Fae could be particularly mischievous, maybe this was all some elaborate ruse? “I mean, if it is a joke I don’t really get their sense of humor.” Rio laughed nervously and scratched at the back of his head, “But I guess it could be? Maybe you shouldn’t use anymore of it though?” Rio tossed the note onto the countertop and sighed again. What a night.

Nate couldn’t help but snort at the pun. Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe he was just losing his mind, but making jokes right now felt like the right thing to do. He slumped against the counter, his head resting on his hands. “I don’t think it was so funny either...but also I didn’t think sentient bread was a real flipping thing.” His brows furrowed as he glanced behind Rio to see how crispy the critters were getting. “I’m definitely not gonna use any more of it.” He looked up at Rio sadly. “Please promise me you’ll keep eating my desserts...I promise they’re not all animated and trying to kill you.”

By some miracle, the box that Nate had packed for Orion had survived the chaos and was left mostly untouched by the creepy bread. He could see it on the counter Looking through the box, Rio laughs slightly and closes it again, leaving it on the counter. After what felt like an acceptable amount of time, he finally took a step away from the oven, slowly pulling his arm away and ready to press up against it at any moment. But he didn’t have to. There was no resistance against the oven door. Whatever those things had been, Rio didn’t think they were going to be moving anymore. “Don’t worry. It’s going to take a lot more than some living bread for me to give this place up. Your food is too good.” He grinned, but there was a sigh behind it. The late hour was finally catching up to him, the adrenaline finally wearing off. “But if you don’t mind, I think I’ll go ahead and pay for my stuff and head out. It’s pretty late. And I wasn’t expecting… that.”

Nate ran a hand down his face and looked at the oven apprehensively. Rio stepped away and nothing came crashing out, thankfully, but the baker wasn’t ready to turn off the heat just yet. “Oh good,” he breathed with a sigh of relief. “Of course! Of course, actually y’know this one’s on the house. I uh...consider it a promotion for trying my last new delicacy ever.” Nate slid the box closer to Rio and grabbed a broom, setting about clearing up what he could before he left for the night. There was no way he was doing his full closing checklist, not after the attempted murder via baked goods, but he could at least get some crumbs up while he waited for those things to get even a little more crispier. “Seriously,” he led his friend out, flipping his open sign to closed. “Thanks for being here...I can’t imagine dealing with those things by myself. And I swear to never use mysterious baking supplies ever again.” Now he just had to figure out where he put the rest of that tearful pumpkin...

#orion1 #friend or dough #wickedswriting

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memorylang · 3 years

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12 Months’ Pandemic Chronicled | #51 | March 2021

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

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

Evacuating Mongolia (February 2O2O)

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

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

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

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

American Twilight Zone (March 2O2O)

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

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

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

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

Resettling Into Lent (March 2O2O)

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

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

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

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

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

Easter in Action (April–May 2O2O)

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

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

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

Summer in Reno (June–July 2O2O)

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

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

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

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

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

Autumn Languages (August–September 2O2O)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Road to Rejuvenation (January–February 2O2I)

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

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

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

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

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

Social Justice (March 2O2I)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hope and Easter 2O2I (April 2O2I)

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

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

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

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

#Peace Corps #Mongolia #memoir #story #Catholic #God #memoryLang #Easter #Lent #USA #StopAsianHate #BlackLivesMatter #year #Coronavirus #COVID-19 #Nevada #America #WithMe #Reno #social justice

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adenei · 4 years

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Next Steps - Chapter 3

Woo hoo! Finally had a chance to return and continue this story. Full thing is on ao3

It started as a one-shot for a Platonic Rarry moment where Harry goes with Ron to pick out a ring, and they book a trip to Italy. Chapter two was of Ron asking the Granger’s permission for their daughter’s hand in marriage, and then him telling his own parents of his plan. And now, Harry and Ron reveal the news that they’re taking a holiday to Italy to Hermione and Ginny!

This is probably as some of you would call a filler chapter, but sometimes they’re necessary. Oh, and since I turned this into a multi-chap, I had to find a problem and include some angst somehow. Enjoy :)

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Surprises & Suspicions

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny flooed back to Grimmauld place after dinner at the Burrow. Harry and Ron were finally going to surprise the girls with the trip. They were all sitting in the living room, when Harry and Ron gave each other a silent nod.

“So,” Ron cleared his throat. “We have a surprise for you.”

Hermione and Ginny both looked up at Ron in confusion. “Oh?” Hermione asked. “What kind of surprise?”

“Well, we’ve never exactly been on a proper holiday together and thought it might be fun to go somewhere,” Harry told them.

“Ginny’ll be in off season soon, and we’ve all got vacation time that needs to be used up before the end of the year, so we booked a trip to Italy!” Ron said, not bothering to hide the grin on his face.

“Really?” Hermione said excitedly. “Oh, I’ve always wanted to go!”

“That’s so cool!” Ginny agreed. “When is it for? My last match is Thursday!”

“Our portkey is scheduled to leave Saturday at 2:00.” Ron told them.

Ginny squealed with excitement, starting to chatter about packing, but Hermione excitement turned into a furrowed brow and she now had a worried look on her face.

“What’s wrong, Hermione?” Harry asked.

“It’s just that, how will I know if I can get the time off? I just started at the Ministry this summer. What if it looks bad that I’m already taking vacation time? I’ve got so many projects going on right now, too.. I don’t know if this is a good idea-”

“Hermione, I went to talk to the head of your department already. I knew that you’d probably feel this way so I cleared it to make sure you’d be set. There’s nothing to worry about,” Ron attempted to reassure her.

“You talked to my department head?” Hermione looked at him scathingly. Apparently that was the wrong thing for him to do.

“Er, Ginny, maybe we should go..” Harry said awkwardly, and they made a quick escape out of the room.

“I was just trying to be helpful, Hermione. I knew you’d be resistant, but you’ll never get the time back after the first of the year, and I knew you wouldn’t willingly take it on your own!”

“But I only just started! I’m still trying to make a name for myself within the department,” she argued.

“Would you be saying the same thing this time next year? Or would you find some other excuse not to go. C’mon Hermione, we haven’t had proper time to be able to relax. Harry and I are mid-way through training, Ginny’s got a break, surely you can take a week off of your job to take a holiday!”

“I’ve got so much work to do though!” she complained.

“You’ve got all week to get ahead! Plus, don’t you have a partner that you work with?” Ron countered.

“Yes, but Steven likes to work on things together! He won’t be happy knowing I’m taking off a whole week.”

A surge of jealousy shot through Ron. “Really? If the tables were turned and he was the one taking off, how would you feel? The same?”

“Well, no, but-”

“Exactly! He’ll get over it. Hermione, I don’t know what you want me to say. I wanted to surprise you, thought you’d be excited. Especially because I thought ahead and tried to make things easier for you. Bring the work for all I care! Unless-”

“Unless what, Ron?” Hermione asked.

“Unless you don’t want to go at all… I should have known,” Ron turned to leave the room. He should have known she wouldn’t want to. He tried to quash the feelings that it was always him or her work, but it was getting harder to ignore.

“Ron! No, wait! I-” Hermione collapsed back onto the couch realizing how much of a mess she’d just made things.

*******************

Hermione stayed in the sitting room for a while, trying to digest all of the thoughts that were flowing through her mind. She wanted to go to Italy, there was no doubt about that. She also couldn’t deny how thoughtful Ron had been to even schedule the trip. But why not wait a month or so? It was only October.

She knew the answer to that, of course. Ginny had two weeks off before she went back to train. They all knew her holiday schedule would be hard to work around, and then once January came, there wouldn’t be a break in her schedule until at least April. Even still, he should have talked to her about it first. Her work was important. She’d only been working for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement since July, and she had been paired with another new colleague, Steven, who was a transfer from a different department. Right now, they had three open cases they were consulting for with the Department of Magical Creatures, and she wasn’t sure if she could step away for a whole week and trust that the work would be done properly.

Steven was nice, and split the workload evenly with Hermione, which was a vast change from always trying to do everything herself, but he always insisted that they work together on everything. They often took working lunches, and he managed to convince her to stay late at the office a couple of times a week. Hermione appreciated the shared drive and commitment they had to the workload, and felt sorry for him since he must not have anyone to go home to at night, since he willingly spent so much time at the office.

He always seemed so disappointed when Hermione would go to lunch with Harry and Ron on certain days, or when she did leave the office on time at the end of each day. She’d tried to invite him to join them for lunch, but he always declined for some reason. She knew how upset he’d be when she said she’d be taking a full week off. I’ll just make sure all of my work is done ahead of time, Hermione resolved.

She had to take this holiday with Ron. No, not had to, she wanted to. Of course she wanted to! Their careers made it lucky if they were to spend regular evenings together, and it was a rare occasion when they had a full weekend together. Hermione had jumped right into her Ministry job only a week after graduating Hogwarts, and Ron was already established with the Aurors, so they didn’t get a relaxing summer.

Hermione got up then and made her way to their bedroom, where she found Ron laying there, despondent. She walked over and sat next to him. “I’m sorry I reacted the way that I did,” she started. “Of course I want to go. You were right, I’ve got all week to get ahead on my cases, and I’ll talk to my department head to make sure I don’t get any new cases assigned before we leave on Saturday.”

“Does that mean you’re going to go, then?” Ron asked her, his voice lacking any emotion.

“Of course it means I’m going to go! You honestly didn’t think I’d choose work over getting to spend a whole week with you?” Hermione asked him.

“Hermione, did you just hear yourself?” Ron gave her a look.

“I’m not the same as I used to be in Hogwarts. I know there are more important things in life than school and work,” she tried to defend. “Most of the time..”

“Exactly. Most of the time,” Ron said. He lifted his arm up, inviting her to lean into him, which she did with much relief. “I knew you’d put up some sort of resistance, you know.”

“I know. It’s hard to imagine just walking away from work for a full week, and not having to worry about anything. I know Steven will be upset, too..” Hermione trailed off.

“Don’t you think it’s a little odd?” Ron asked. He didn’t like to bring up her colleague because he didn’t want to seem jealous. But that didn’t stop the concern he felt whenever she’d send a note to say she was taking a working lunch at Steven’s request, or when she’d tell him that ‘Steven wants to work a little later tonight to finish this report.’

“What’s a little odd?” Hermione looked at him in question.

“That he’d be upset because you’re taking a vacation.”

“Well, we are the youngest in our department. He’s probably just looking out for me,” Hermione reasoned.

“I don’t think it’s that, Hermione,” Ron said seriously. “Are you ever the one to suggest a working lunch or staying late? I know you don’t mind them, I’m not saying that. I’m just curious.”

Hermione scrunched up her face in consideration. “Well, now that you mention it..”

Ron was silent for a moment, choosing his words carefully. “Just be careful, okay? There’s something about him that doesn’t feel right,” he said as he looked at her in concern.

The Hermione from a few years ago would have immediately argued with him that he was being ridiculous, but the Aurors had strengthened his knack to read people, and his senses were incredibly strong in that respect. “I’m always careful,” Hermione said as she snuggled into him. “I love you,” she said to him as she began thinking of what else he might have planned for their trip.

“I love you, too,” Ron said as he kissed her.

#romione #Ron Weasley #Hermione Granger

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v8pontiacgirl · 3 years

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04July2021

I’m still in shock that issues are likely caused by horrible allergies that are likely caused by mold in my house. Due to memory issues, I decided to make a timeline of the last six years, when this started.

September 2015–moved into the house. I was working full time, going to school full time and experiencing allergy issues, such as a sore throat, headaches, and very dry eyes (to the point that I was no longer able to wear my contacts). I actually kept getting allergic conjunctivitis, so I switched to my glasses full time. I’d been able to wear contacts for about 15 years without issues prior to this.

February 2016–injured my knee and found out I had a discoid lateral meniscus with a tear that was hanging up in my knee joint. It took months to get any kind of relief for my knee because the tear didn’t initially show up on the MRI, and because discoid meniscus issues usually show up earlier in life if they are going to be a problem, I wasn’t taken seriously. During this time, I was having issues working because of pain and inability to walk. Also started having more issues with being harassed at work by coworkers. I began to work less and less until I finally quit in September. I had already finished out school in June. I would have had to transfer to a community college two hours away to continue my degree in the fall, and since my knee was being problematic, I decided to hold off.

October 2016–Had my knee surgery. About a week or two afterwards, I got my first vertigo spell (although I didn’t realize it was vertigo at the time). This would become the first of many instances that I would deal with “flares” that would make functioning very difficult for me.

October 2016-March 2017–Some days were better than others. I went to the doctor and blood work and many tests were done. My thyroid levels fluctuated a little, but ultimately seemed ok eventually. Everything else looked normal, except my white blood cell count was always elevated. I was told I was perfectly healthy. The dizziness? It was POTS (Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome), a chronic illness that I had been diagnosed with in 2005 that honestly had never given me too many issues in the past, as long as I stayed hydrated and ate salty foods. I was given some common POTS meds to help me retain water, but, as medications typically do not agree with me, I had too many side effects and was unable to take them.

April 2017-August 2017–I’d been feeling better for about a month (since March), and I was anxious to be back in school. Culinary school had caught my eye a few months prior, so I signed up for the spring cohort. I was in the evening cohort, and I was realizing that my allergies were being aggravated by *something*, so my mornings from 7am to noon were spent cleaning, and from noon to about 8pm, were spent at school. I was able to complete two terms of culinary school. There was to be about a little over a month break from the middle of August to the end of September before fall term began. I went to California in August after finishing Summer term for a few days to visit friends. After returning, I started to feel like I was going into another “flare”. Gradually, my health got worse and worse.

September 2017-February 2018–by the end of September, when it was time to go back to culinary school, I was bedridden. The vertigo was so bad that I was unable to do anything except remain horizontal. For about six months again, my health was unbearable and I was unable to function.

March-April 2018–I finally began to feel a little better in March and April (also around the time when I started to get outside to do more garden things), and decided that I would try to go back to culinary school for summer term (the cohorts had changed because of a new director, and so there were classes I could take toward my degree). It’s really interesting that my heath was generally better the more I was able to get out of the house.

June 2018-August 2018—I was doing a lot of outdoor garden things in the afternoons and going to school for several hours every morning. I was even hired to help cater a wedding in August. My health seemed mostly under control, with only minor symptoms.

September 2018-December 2018—The end of September, I began my fourth term of culinary school. I also joined the culinary team, so pretty much all of my time was spent at school, even most of December, when the other students went home for break, I stayed at school trying to perfect my dish for competition. I was fatigued, but my health was mostly stable.

January 2019–After a *very* brief break, I was back in school for one whole day of winter term. I was definitely feeling fatigued because I hadn’t really gotten a break (and probably, in hindsight, because my allergies had really worn me down, too), and I was told by the coach that he was kicking me off the team because he was concerned my health problems would hold the team back, and he wanted to win. My health had not been an issue that he had seen at all, but he just thought it was too much of a risk to keep me. If I wouldn’t have disclosed that I had health problems when I tried out for team, I don’t think this would have happened. Anyway, I was pretty angry, especially after all the time I’d put in. Since the coach was also the director of the school, and there had also been an issue with the instructor quitting and a new instructor having to take over at the end of the last term, I decided that this culinary school really wasn’t worth my time or money any longer, so I quit. Immediately after, I bought the rest of the books that I would have needed for school and began to teach myself techniques with sugar and chocolate. I decided I was going to start focusing more seriously on Spoon Life Bakery, my cottage bakery business that I had started in July 2017.

February 2019-March 2020—I was the most busy I’d been in a while. Garden projects, baking projects, and painting projects took up all my time. From August 2019 to the beginning of March 2020, I was more busy than I wanted to be with my short lived restaurant project. The restaurant actually opened in October, but there was a lot of prep work prior. All of this kept me out of the house for most of the day. I was exhausted, but not symptomatic. Basically, during this time period, I was either outside, or at another location for the majority of the time. During the rainy months (December 2019-March 2020), the basement of the house flooded. It had always been musty and damp down there, but it had never flooded like that.

March-May 2020—I closed the restaurant in March, and began to be at home a lot more often. I started going hard with Spoon Life Bakery again, baking out of my home kitchen. I got back into Jiu Jitsu. I was doing ok, but by May, I started to feel like something wasn’t right again.

May-December 2020—My health “flared” a little during this time. It wasn’t as bad overall as it had been, but some days were better than others. Some days the vertigo made me bedridden. It was unpredictable. In May, I had to quit Jiu Jitsu again because I wasn’t feeling well and didn’t have the stamina to keep doing it.

January-May 2021–I’d had enough descent days that I decided to try to try to go back to Jiu Jitsu, or rather, a self defense class based on Jiu Jitsu. This class ran twice a week through March, and I was able to keep up and not miss a class. The basement flooded again, so we moved the dehumidifier into the storage room where the majority of the water was coming in. After self defense was over, I started regular jiu jitsu again in April, but felt much more exhausted than usual. My vertigo was getting worse to the point that it was always present. I took a break from Jiu Jitsu again in May.

May-June 2021—My throat was so sore, that I thought I had tonsillitis. My left ear was plugged. I felt like I was getting sick with some sort of virus, except it went on for weeks without getting better. I saw an ENT in mid June. He thought maybe I had Meniere’s, but didn’t officially diagnose me, since I needed to get a hearing test, which is scheduled for this month, and at the time of writing this has not happened yet. Other than that, he didn’t see anything else that alerted him. Soon after, I began to get very sick with horrible vertigo. I was bedridden again.

July 2021–Until the 2nd, I was in an absolutely horrible flare that had lasted without relief for about two weeks. I was convinced that this was just my life now, and in desperation, I called the doctor. She told me to come in that same day. Normally, I don’t leave the house when I’m feeling my worst. I had to keep laying down at the doctor’s because my vertigo was so bad. The doctor performed her usual tests, and looked in my nose. She informed me that it was very inflamed and swollen and she wasn’t sure how I was able to breathe out of it. I admitted that every morning, my nose is stuffed up pretty badly. She prescribed the Montelukast, that I’m unable to take because of side effects, and told me that she really thinks that allergies are causing my vertigo because the ear nose and throat are all connected. At first, I was discouraged with this diagnosis, because I felt like she was brushing off my symptoms. *Just* allergies?! I couldn’t believe allergies could cause such severe symptoms.

We made a few more stops after visiting the doctor, and when I’d been out of the house for about an hour and a half, I miraculously started feeling a little better. What?? Was the doctor right? I knew my house was probably triggering my allergies, but I didn’t think it was *that* bad.

Getting out of the house for two hours brought me out of one of my worst flairs. I’m now about 99.9% that mold in my house, specifically the basement, is making me sick. I’m going to keep testing this to be sure, but I’m now filled with some hope that I may be able to lead a much less depressing life. Time will tell.

#allergies #chronic illness #mold is bad #allergies are no joke

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vtforpedro · 3 years

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First Line Game

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. tagged by @curiousartemis thank yoooou. oh boy here we go come rain or come shine (Steve/Bucky) Steve doesn’t know when he started sketching Bucky’s eyes. Maybe that time they were sitting in his bedroom and Steve was leaned back against the wall, his sketch pad on his bony knees, and Bucky was at the end of the bed. Arm on the windowsill, looking out into a hazy morning, smog covering the early sunshine. winter wonderland (Mr. Numbers/Mr. Wrench) Numbers doesn’t believe in fate, destiny or chance. He doesn’t believe that some things are just meant to be. Fates colliding, destinies intertwining, or, heaven forbid, God’s will. An odd coincidence here and there and being in the right place at the right time, sure, but not that there is anything in this world that’s ever up to a higher power’s influence. sweetheart like you (Credence Barebone/Percival Graves) Credence knows a lot of people. His work lends itself to meeting new people all the time, all over the world, from photographers to agents to makeup artists to fans. There are always new faces in his life, and Credence doesn’t remember most of them because he has a poor memory, but he does remember the people that stand out the most. emotionally yours (Credence/Graves) The summer of 1919 was one of Credence’s best. It was a mere six months after he’d finally escaped the clutches of his mother. He was finished with Ilvermorny and simply hadn’t gone back home but had gone to live with his friend in Upstate New York. love sick (Credence/Graves) If Credence is grateful for anything, he’s grateful for the summer months. He’s twenty-eight years old and working full time in a MACUSA-owned potions brewery. He brews rare potions and aids in research for experimental potions that one day might cure things such as lycanthropy or eradicate dragon pox, so it’s never seen in the world again. under your spell (Credence/Graves) Graves’ department doesn’t often get called in for magical animal activity, whether a death has been involved or not. There are other departments for it, and it’s unusual to get a request for aid from them. But after a third death Upstate in the Debar Mountain Wild Forest in as many days, for what is suspected human activity, the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures asks the Auror department to step in. While they suspect humans are killing witches and wizards, they have never seen anything like it before, only referring to it as werewolf-like but not done by werewolves. bound to lose, bound to win (Credence/Graves) There is no particular just like any other day in the Auror department in MACUSA. Each day can be drastically different than the one before it, from being stuck inside all day with paperwork and meetings, to planning and carrying out raids, to emergencies that take them out into the field unexpectedly. automaton (Credence/Graves) Percival Graves was born in the year 2287, son of a Congressman and robotics designer. His father, Silas Graves, was well known for his harsh politics in an already harsh political climate, in favor of more control over the people the way it used to be, rather than the free society they lived in now. let it be me (Credence/Graves) Credence has been acting since he was fourteen years old. His mother, once he’d hit a six inch growth spurt, decided his face was good enough to try out for commercials or small roles. can’t escape from you (Credence/Graves) Vampires. Credence has known very little else in his life. He vaguely remembers that his mother used to talk about witches when he was young, younger than seven or eight. He didn’t understand then, didn’t understand where witches were or why his mother despised them. maybe you’ll be there (Credence/Graves) It’s a cold day in Stranraer, grey clouds overhead, promising rain this evening. The smell of brine is strong here, as Graves stands on the edge of a pier, leaning against a wooden post and looking out over the sea. as i went out one morning (Credence/Graves) When Graves had been taken out of that hole in the ground, weak and malnourished, near death, he had thought life would never be the same for him. dear landlord (Credence/Graves) Credence has been living in the same apartment for the last three years now. He has two roommates, a couple, the same two who had been happy to have him come in when he was two years into his degree at NYU. The first six months with them had been fine besides some cleanliness issues, but it had all gone downhill after that. At a slow pace but downhill nonetheless, with random parties or smoking enough weed inside the apartment that he’d eventually had to threaten leaving because his clothes were starting to smell like it. Cleanliness also took a nose dive and when one of them lost their job, rent was harder to make every month. had a dream about you, baby (Credence/Graves) Credence is eight years old when he has the first dream. It’s a strange dream, where he appears on a grassy hillside, nothing but miles and miles of rolling hills and lakes laid out before him. There’s a towering oak tree nearby and he sits in its shade and looks at leaves on the ground. let’s stick together (Credence/Graves) Credence has lived in Manhattan for twenty-seven years and though it is the busiest, most populated city in the country, not much happens anymore these days to surprise him. simple twist of fate (Credence/Graves) Credence has known tough times in his life. Living under Ma’s rule until he was thirteen and called CPS himself one night, taken away and thrust into the foster care system without knowing what that really meant for him. see that my grave is kept clean (Credence/Graves) Graves leads a raid in mid-January. It’s bitter and cold, snow piled up over the property of a large manor. It looks abandoned but they’ve known for some time that it isn’t. a sunday kind of love (Credence/Graves) Credence sits in the sprawling cafeteria in MACUSA with a chicken salad sandwich, a cup of fresh fruit, and a glass of pomegranate juice. His hour-long lunch break has just started and he’s glad to get away from Mister Ibex’s office. He likes his boss just fine, but the closer it gets to Quidditch season, the more irate he gets about everyone doing their jobs wrong - except you, Credence, he always adds kindly - and he uses his lunch breaks to escape. nevertheless (i’m in love with you) (Credence/Graves) It’s a week before Halloween in Ilvermorny and the castle already has a colony of live bats living on the ceiling in the Great Hall. Their droppings are thankfully charmed to disappear through a barrier a few feet below them but Percy Graves finds them irritating when they start to fly around in cloud-like formations. ain’t no man righteous, no not one (Credence/Graves) Credence gets the message from a Patronus while he’s sitting in bed, reading a book, to come downstairs because there’s work for him. He watches the raven disappear from the end of his bed and sighs, in relief and resignation both. --- alright!!! so I’ve learned I have a bad habit of starting with one simple line of ~feeling or description~ that’ll be explained in the following paragraphs. but I doubt it’ll change my writing haha it was nice walking through these fics tho. they weren’t posted all that long ago but it gave me The Nostalgia™ kind of glad it wasn’t all just credence/graves tbh but it makes me laugh there’s no bilbs and his dratted dwarf considering I have more fics posted for them than anyone else! but I’m at 79 fics and working on my 80th fic to publish so, oh my god. never thought I’d post this much when I first started writing fic! I feel like I should celebrate or something my fave one has to be the second one, a Mr. Numbers/Mr. Wrench fic from Fargo season one c: hey you. if you’ve read this far, guess what? you’re officially tagged and I want to see your fics’ first lines pls and thank you c:

#vtforpedro writes #tag game #long post #going from what i know is a super fluffy fic to mcd to fluffy again gives me whiplash

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