#I think the fever rises by .5 or 1 degrees

[pixelatedraindrops]

A silly little idea I came up with (or actually I’ve had it for a while) when I was talking to Kazin, and as always, she drew it out for me… xD

The idea is that if Yuma goes into (or is forced) into a Mystery Labyrinth while he’s sick; in the Labyrinth, the illness temporarily disappears since they are in an alternative dimension. So while healthy, he can solve the mystery with no obstacles.

However…when he leaves the Mystery Labyrinth? His condition worsens. Depending on how long he was in there, or how much energy he used, it’s all transferred to his body outside, and…yeah he practically collapses.

LATER…

Shinigami knows exactly what she did.

What a little jerk x’D

[jmreyes9]

 DIGGING DANDELIONS AROUND MY DOMICILE (HOME) FROM 

      DAWN TO DUSK ON FIVE NICE DAYS 

By Jesse Reyes

“I was a dandelion puff...Some saw the beauty in me and stooped quietly to admire my innocence.  Others saw the potential of what I could do for them, so they uprooted me, seeking to shape me around their needs.  They blew at my head, scattering my hair from the roots, changing me to suit them.  Yet still others saw me as something that was unworthy and needed to be erased.”  -  Nicole Bailey-Williams.

DANDELION STORY - Three Filipinos from Batangas (a Philippine province) arrived in the Immigration area of the Los Angeles International Airport, to reside in the U.S.   The immigration officer twisted his tongue in pronouncing their last names.  Exasperated, he decided to change all their names to Dandelion.  Their original names, and their English translations in parentheses, were: Dimalanta (doesn’t wither), Dimasupil (can’t be suppressed) and Dimalipol (can’t be diminished—this is my own translation!).  It’s phenomenal that these are all characteristics of the dandelion!  It is doubtful if this story is really true or not.

I spent five days of pulling dandelions and other weeds around my home.  After the third day, my entire body was sore, the muscles in my back aching—these muscles that had been dormant for several months—or years, perhaps?  I really needed a whole body massage but I was deathly fearful of being exposed to the corona virus during this covid-19 pandemic, being a senior, with diabetes and hypertension and male—major risk factors that would invite the dreaded virus.  After five days, I was ready to be admitted to the hospital because of loss of energy and total body aches.  I didn’t have a fever so i didn’t think it was due to covid-19.

You see, after several days of 90-degree weather, there was a lull of 70-degree days.  It had rained the two previous days, making the soil soft and amenable to weed-pulling!  

So waking up at 6:30 in the morning, before the sun had had a chance to rise, I went to work, bringing my tools (a spade, a hoe, a rake, a branch cutter, a small stool I could sit on and leaf bags) which I threw into my wheelbarrow and began my “projects” in earnest.  I had read somewhere that in order to do the job right, you have to have the right tools.  This cliche had stuck in my mind.

Why a hoe, you’re probably asking.  Well, the dandelions and other weeds, especially the crabgrass had grown so big and tall and widespread that I needed to dig deep to uproot them as they had sent their network of roots three or four inches down into the depths of the earth (like a network of terrorists with underground activity).

The hoe reminded me of Edwin Markham’s poem “The Man With the Hoe”, the first four lines of which go:

            Bowed by the weight of centuries he leans

            Upon his hoe and gazes on the ground,

            The emptiness of ages in his face,

            And on his back the burden of the world.

Digging dandelions and other weeds is similar, to me at least, to reading mammograms (I must have read hundreds, if not thousands, of mammograms during my thirty plus years of radiology practice).  Both are very tedious undertakings and tiring (especially to the eyes).  The big difference is that there is no stress in pulling weeds, while reading mammograms is so stressful—it’s like a sharp sword hangs above you ready to fall on your neck once you make a mistake.  If you miss a cancer in the breast, it haunts you forever, not to mention facing a lawsuit.  Missing a weed or two is not worrisome.  Nobody is watching to tap your hand if you miss pulling a small weed.

I remember always holding a magnifying glass when reading mammograms to look for a cluster of suspicious micro calcifications (tiny, pleomorphic or irregular calcifications) or a suspicious area of architectural distortion (irregular area of breast tissue).  I remember finding a 5 mm. (about 1/5 of an inch) breast cancer, the smallest early cancer that I have diagnosed and which many would have probably missed.

I have now come to love digging weeds around my home in my retirement years.  The sound of the snapping of the dandelion’s deep roots is music to my ears now.  I do listen to real music sometimes, though, from my iPhone when Siri (my trusted personal assistant) plays me some love ballads by Engelbert Humperdinck.  The boredom of pulling weeds vanishes into thin air when this classy British balladeer (he’ll get upset if you call him a crooner!) sings “Release Me” (the song that took him all around the world, according to him).

This hobby of pulling weeds have some added benefits, aside from beautifying the landscape around my summer (as well as spring, fall and winter!) home.  I get sunshine from the early morning sun, a little exercise, and enjoying the fresh air (not as fresh as the air in the mountains, living in suburban Chicago, yet fresh air nonetheless).  I also get some ideas for future write-ups like this one you're perusing right now,  while digging dandelions (and other weeds) around my domicile (home sweet home)—one day starting from dawn and finishing at dusk!

In Matthew 13:24-30, Jesus taught the parable of the wheat and the tares. Tares are weeds that resemble wheat.  In the parable, a wheat field had deliberately been polluted by an enemy who sowed the seeds of the weeds intermixed with the wheat.

The servants suggested that they gather the tares (weeds) up.  But the master said not to do this because they might uproot the wheat when they pulled the tares.  He said to them “Let them grow together until the harvest, and at the time of the harvest I will say to the reapers, “First gather together the tares and bind them in bundles to burn them, but gather the wheat into my barn 

Written in Chicago, IL in 2020. Posted in FB and in my blog 11/27/22.  Reposteed in FB in 2023. Published in Cyberlink 9/20/20 edited by  Edna Domingo. Other writings and poems of Jesse Reyes can be found in his blog: anadventurecalledlife.com.

[charcuteriecrab]

Please Don't Leave Me (Part 5)

A Resident Evil Fic Request

For @leonisdumbasallhell

Rating: M

Contains: blood, strong language, description of injuries, bodily fluids

Tags: Married Chreon, Infection, Major Character Injury

Word Count: 2130

Part 5/? Part 1 <- Previous | Next ->

Chris pulled up a chair to Leon’s bed exactly 43 minutes ago, Rebecca having left to finish testing Leon’s blood. She told him she was hopeful that she would be able to create a more effective vaccine to help Leon but Chris didn’t want to have too high of expectations.

His husband was dying, that much was clear.

Leon seemed to have stabilized since Rebecca left, with his fever sitting around 102.6. It was still terrible, but not nearly as bad as it had been, as it could have been if they hadn’t acted when they did. Chris didn’t know too much about the human body, but he did know that 103 degrees was the temperature people should go to the hospital for. Once the human body reached 104 and higher, very bad things happen as it tries to kill off the virus, temperature hurtling hotter than the internal organs could handle.

His husband lay unconscious still, his chest rising and falling mostly evenly, but it shook and stuttered far too often for Chris to trust he wouldn’t stop breathing entirely. His skin seemed paler somehow, his damp hair dull and lifeless as it hung in his face, partially blocking Leon’s expression, but he could still make out the pained features. He looked so lifeless. Fear gripped Chris’s gut as he studied Leon’s face, an unchecked worry he couldn’t express. He wouldn’t cry. He wouldn’ t. If he started, he would never stop, and Leon needed him. Chris couldn’t break down. Not now.

Rebecca had cleaned up the vomit and redid Leon’s IV. He apparently ripped it out when he threw up. Chris internally slapped himself for not being there to help him. He should have called Rebecca sooner, he should have had a bucket ready to go. He knew Leon was going to be nauseous, why didn’t he prepare? The smell of vomit was long gone, but the room still felt sickly and damp and Chris wanted to take Leon far away from the accursed room and hold him tight.

Chris sighed, barely keeping back a sob. God, he was a horrible husband. He reached for Leon’s hand, now not as warm as before, and rubbed it, squeezing every so often. He told himself it was to comfort Leon, but it was more of a reassurance that his husband was alive for Chris. 

He sighed again. He needed to keep a level head.

There was a knock on the doorframe and Chris turned to look, his head snapping quickly. It was one of his subordinates. His name was Fran; he was a young man in his mid-twenties with short chestnut-colored hair, eager to please, but had skill, and he was an asset to their team. Chris sighed at the sight of him, knowing he probably had bad news to give him.

The man nodded. “Captain. Motion’s been detected northeast of the safe house.”

In an instant, Chris’s mind started going over potential dangers that could mean. Sure, it could have been anything, just a harmless deer, or a wandering bear, but in this line of work, you never assumed. What if Leon was supposed to be a trap? The trap failed if he was meant to turn and kill them all. If Chris had set a trap that failed, he would try to achieve the desired result some other way, especially if ordered to do so. Maybe someone was coming after them to finish them off.

Chris focused on Fran again and the man’s expression turned focused. “I want you to set up a perimeter.”

“Sir?”

He turned back to Leon, frowning, a deep protective tug pulling on his heart. “I have a feeling someone is trying to finish what they started.” He stood up, nodding to Fran. “You, Eli, and Ally start making rounds around the perimeter of the house. Inform me if you see or hear anything , even if you may think it isn’t dangerous. I will join you soon.”

Fran nodded, his expression turning steely. “Yes, sir.” He then left the room, and Chris watched as his form shrunk until he turned the corner out of sight. He hoped he wouldn’t lose his team this time. They were good people.

“Chris?” Rebecca’s fuzzy voice called from the communicator. “I figured out what the virus is. It’s something new.”

Chris’s gut clenched. ‘New’ always meant bad things when you were talking about BOWs.

“It’s the T-virus mixed with the DNA of the grass ‘sorghum x drummondii’. It’s a hybrid and can cause cyanide poisoning in humans and other animals sometimes,” the woman continued. “I think that’s why Leon didn’t turn right away. He’s immune to the T-virus base, but he isn’t immune to this new virus. I’ve taken to calling it the S-Virus, after sorghum.”

Chris fought the urge to sigh. The number of BOWs in the world just keeps multiplying. No matter how hard they tried, they could never keep it from getting into the wrong hands. “Can you make a vaccine for this ‘S-virus’?” he said, looking down at Leon’s slack face.

“With some time, yes. I can use the other vaccine as a base.”

Chris exhaled, rubbing his temples. “There’s been motion detected outside. I suspect hostiles, most likely BOWs. I’ve ordered a perimeter that I will be joining shortly. We will try to give you as much time as we can.”

“You’re leaving Leon alone?”

Chris swallowed painfully, guilt settling in his gut. He didn’t want to leave him. God, he didn’t even want to leave this room until Leon was up and well. But if he didn’t, the others might die and leave the safehouse undefended, leaving Leon undefended. He couldn’t let that happen.

“I don’t think I have much choice.”

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

The first thing Leon’s heat-addled mind registered was booming footsteps that rumbled through his body and the rustling of clothing. The sounds set off alarms in his head and he forced himself to open his eyes, struggling against the weight of his body. Since when was it so hard to move?

His eyes fluttered open, slower than he would have liked, and he scanned the room, head lolling against his pillow. His ribs screamed at him at the movement and his forehead throbbed, vision turning hazy. A man was moving around the room, grabbing things and attaching them to his vest. It was Chris, he realized. “...Chris? What’re you doing?” he said hoarsely, groaning as the back of his throat rumbled painfully.

“Leon?” In an instant, Chris was at his side and Leon blinked, suddenly staring into Chris's pinched gaze. “How are you feeling?”

He ignored the question, hearing people talking through Chris’s communicator, but couldn’t discern the words. Something was wrong. They sounded stressed. “...s’happening?”

His husband quickly glanced out the window, eyes jumping around. He looked on edge and Leon could see his hands were shaking slightly. “The safehouse is being attacked. We think they’re infected.”

Leon’s eyes widened and he tried to get up, groaning. “Chris—”

Chris pushed him back against the bed, and Leon gasped for air at the slight exertion. “I need you to stay here.” 

He breathed quickly, unable to fully extend his lungs and he winced. “But—”

“Please.” He leaned his forehead against Leon’s. “I need to know you’ll be safe." He swallowed, throat thick with emotion.

Leon paused, dread pooling in his gut. He couldn’t just sit by while everyone else fought to keep him safe, but hearing Chris ask him like that—eyes glassy and red—he couldn’t cause Chris any more worry. He exhaled, giving in to the man’s pleading gaze.

“Alright,” he wheezed, furrowing his brow. “Be safe.”

Chris nodded, a small smile showing. “I will.”

His husband left the room in a rush, his footsteps fading away and Leon took a moment to breathe. He felt horrible . He could barely lift his arms, his limbs feeling like weights at his side. When he tried to move his eyes, his vision swam and he felt like he was falling backward. Fuck .

He could tell it was turning morning if dawn hadn’t broken yet, the window not completely blackened. The sky was brightening the longer he stared and he was beginning to wonder how long he had been unconscious. He could feel time slipping by, his body growing hotter and hotter until sweat began to pour down his face. He whined, breathing in and out heavily, struggling to suck in fully. His own groans reverberated in his skull, sending pain shooting through his eyes.

He could hear distant yelling, followed by frantic gunfire, the bullets piercing his mind. Leon’s heart fluttered in his chest and he tried to focus on the sounds. What was happening? More gunshots went off, closer this time, and Leon’s pulse began to skyrocket. He could hear the soft beeping from the monitor speed up. He had to do something to help.

The window. He could try and snipe someone. He knew that they had stored their guns in the room for easy access. What he didn't know was whether or not Chris left any of said guns in the room before leaving, but he had to try. People could be dying. Chris could be dying.

Leon tried to push himself up, but his arms shook and his nerves burned so hard he went numb. He bit his lip to hold back a cry and he growled before collapsing back against the bed. 

He could do this. He had to do this, for Chris. When he became a Redfield, he promised himself he would try his best to keep Chris alive. A fever wasn't going to stop him.

Gritting his teeth, Leon rolled his body onto his side, ribs screaming for a moment until all his pain faded, adrenaline pulsing through his veins and sending a numb feeling through his bones. He ignored it and pulled out his IV before rolling further, falling to the floor with a thump, the sheet that was previously covering him catching on the bed. A burst of pain shot through his entire body and he couldn't move for a moment. Once his head stopped throbbing as badly, he opened his eyes, nearly letting out a laugh when he saw the open weapons case at the other wall, a sniper rifle as well as a few other long-range guns waiting to be used. Fuck yeah. Chris must have left them behind to carry more close-range weapons.

He pushed down his giddiness, steeling himself. Now was the hard part. He got onto his knees, placing a hand on the bed to steady himself as he got his feet under him, limbs shaking like a leaf before steadying just as something snapped in his chest. He groaned, curling in on himself. Fuck, fuck, fuck. That hurt . He gasped for air, tasting blood on his tongue, but managed to stay standing.

Leon pushed away the pain and stumbled towards the weapons case, ramming into the wall, the impact sending a jolt through his bad arm and he bit the inside of his cheek. He moaned, vision whitening. He could feel his consciousness fading away, his mind going fuzzy.

No, no, no. He couldn't pass out now. Not yet.

He heard yelling from the window and snapped his eyes open. That sounded like Chris. He seemed angry, growling out words Leon couldn’t understand. Leon quickly grabbed the gun and stumbled to the window, pushing it open. He looked out and scanned for Chris spotting him. He was arguing with someone, someone not infected, but who had a large knife in hand, angling it toward his husband. 

No—

Chris didn't have a weapon. He didn't have a way to defend himself and the wall of the house was getting too close for him to dodge effectively.

Fumbling with the rifle he had grabbed, he aimed it for Chris's attacker's head, straight between the eyes, taking a breath before pulling the trigger.

The gunshot echoed in Leon's eardrums, his lungs stuttering and he couldn't breathe . He lost control of his body, his muscles falling limp and he slumped to the floor, leaning against the wall. 

The gun clattered before skidding into the middle of the room. Leon wheezed, the room swaying and he tried to steady himself, but his hands wouldn’t move. Looking down, he saw his veins darker than he remembered, stretching across every surface of his skin. Tears pricked his eyes, the pain quickly fading away along with all his other senses. 

‘I’m sorry,’ he thought, letting out a choked sob.

He was floating, body weightless. He felt disconnected from himself, ears ringing louder and louder before fading away slowly, the world going black and white, his mind eagerly careening into blessed darkness.

‘Please forgive me, Chris.’

[redrobinhoods]

Sticks and Stones | Chapter 4, one real thing

AO3 Link | 1,900 words (approx) | Chapter 1, Chapter 3, Chapter 5

A/N: This was going to be the second to last chapter and now it isn't. A little kinder slice of life is planned for the next chapter before the end of the fic. Still have some events mentioned in other fics I want to fit in here.

Chapter Summary: Stone checks in on Fox- and Senator Chuchi- while he is recovering.

Two days, later, Fox was back. While it would take a little longer for him to be cleared for return to active duty, he was to resume his other work in the meantime. Stone could hear the slight commotion in the main offices when Fox entered, a few minutes after he himself had settled into his chair with a cup of caf, but he waited a few minutes to allow Fox to settle in as well before going to check on him.

When Stone opened the door to Fox’s office, he found Senator Chuchi already inside. He had expected that. What he hadn’t expected was for her to be signing a pile of flimsiwork with a near exact replica of Fox’s signature.

“Commander Stone!” She chirped at him as he entered.

“Senator Chuchi.” He greeted, looking past her to where Fox was slumped over, propped up on his elbow, reading through a datapad. He looked exhausted.

“Please, Commander Stone. Would you call me Riyo?”

Stone felt like his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. She couldn’t have just asked him that. ‘Riyo’ was Fox’s name for her, not his. “Why?”

“You’ve been a dear comfort to me as of the past few months. Much too dear for you to formally address me in moments like this.” She smiled up at him before turning back to the flimsiplast before her. Stone watched over her shoulder as her fingers directed the writing instrument in her hand into another near perfect replica of Fox’s signature. “Commander?” She prodded when she didn’t get a response, and that was when it clicked for Stone.

“If I can call you Riyo, you can just call me Stone, ma’am.”

“Okay, Stone.”

“Okay, Riyo.” It felt forbidden, but so, technically, was Riyo’s love for his brother.

She looked back at him with a smile before returning to the flimsi before her.

The moment gone, Stone turned his gaze back to Fox. “Are you okay?”

“I’m great.” Fox rasped. “Why do you ask?”

“You look like some being tied you to the back of their speeder and drove circles in a swamp for a few hours with you dragging behind like a shiny in the heat.” Stone made his way around the desk to Fox’s side, taking off a glove as he did so that he could press the back of his hand to Fox’s cheek. “I’m surprised you don’t have a fever.”

“Let me guess, I’ve got more colors in my face than a varactyl feather?”

“Something like that.” Stone chuckled. “Keep your helmet on if you talk to Thire later. He doesn’t need to worry about you right now.”

“Is Commander Thire okay?” Riyo asked with worry in her voice.

“In confidence, Sen- Riyo, the Chancellor has been very demanding as of late. It’s wearing him down.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” She pressed, and Stone could understand why Fox adored her so. He couldn’t imagine most senators would so genuinely want to help a clone.

Fox solemnly shook his head. “We’ll take care of him, Ri.”

“I’ll let you know if we can’t get more lysinate.” Stone gave her what he hoped was an understanding smile. “It helps the headaches to a degree.”

“Is lysinate the strongest drug you have?”

Stone avoided a direct answer to her question. “It takes the edge off. And we need to be deployable at a moment’s notice. I think Fox is on the strongest drug I’ve ever seen at the moment.”

“His prescription isn’t classified as a strong painkiller.” Riyo protested.

“It is for clones.” Fox shrugged. “Just a flesh wound.”

“I saw your guts, Fox. We both did.” Stone scoffed. “That’s not a just flesh wound.”

“Well, both of my intestines are apparently still in one piece so I would classify this as a flesh wound. It’s my injury, Stone. I get to decide how bad it is.”

“That’s not how it works, Fox.” Riyo laughed before turning her head in Stone’s direction. “Has he always been like this?”

“As long as I’ve known him. I feel sorry for his batchmates back on Kamino, having to live with him all the time.” Though Fox began to protest, Stone continued. “The first memory I have of Fox was listening to him and Wolffe argue from halfway across the training center. I never had a good opinion of him until Geonosis. Nothing brings us clones together like almost dying. I suppose that may have been intentional.”

“Stone fought at my side on Geonosis.” Fox explained. “Our regiments were placed side by side in the battle. He helped me drag Thire out of there, actually.”

“He was hurt?” Riyo asked.

“It’s why he and Thorn ended up running security; they were the most injured of the Corrie Guard officers who survived.” Stone sighed. “It feels like it was longer than three years ago.”

Riyo nodded her agreement. “Feels like the war has been going on forever.”

“It’s going to end soon.” Fox said. “Something’s about to happen, I can feel it.”

“We can only hope it’s the end.” Stone clasped Fox’s shoulder for a moment before stepping away. “I should get back to work.”

Riyo rose from her chair and stepped towards Stone. She held out her arms, waiting for Stone to initiate the hug by stepping towards her before she wrapped her arms around him. “It was good to see you.”

“You too.” Stone murmured out of instinct. This was a new form of intimacy for him. It took the albeit short walk back to his office for him to realize what form of intimacy it was. Friendship. Stone had never had friends before, only lovers and brothers. The feeling would take some time to adjust to.

---

Stone tossed his helmet onto his bed when he returned to the barracks that evening. Fox would be spending the night with Riyo, it would just be him and Thire tonight. He could hear the water in the refresher running and decided to join Thire while there was still hot water left.

“Have you successfully melted the skin off your back yet?” Stone laughed when the wave of steam hit him as he opened the door. A hot shower after a long day was the only form of therapy they could get that didn’t come in the form of other beings or drinks. Stone didn’t think about Thire’s lack of answer until he turned around from shutting the door. “Thire?”

For a moment, the man on the floor before him was Thorn, laying in a pool of blood. Then it wasn’t. With the imagined blood gone, he ran to Thire’s side.

“Thire. Thire!” Stone pulled Thire’s head up into his arms as he looked over Thire’s body for injury. Finding none and getting no response he reached down to check for a pulse, letting out a sob of relief when he found it. “What happened to you, kid?” He murmured as he gently set Thire back on the floor so that he could turn off the tap and fetch a towel.

When Thire was wrapped up in his towel, Stone gathered him in his arms and carried him out of the refresher to lay him down on his bed. Thire didn’t stir when Stone set him down on the hard mattress, nor when Stone sat beside him and gently ran his fingers through his hair. It was only after a few minutes had passed that he stirred under Stone’s touch.

“Hey, kid.” Stone continued to run his fingers through Thire’s hair when he saw how his brother unconsciously leaned into it as he came to.

“What happened?” Thire managed.

“I found you on the ground in the ‘fresher. I thought you-.” Stone’s voice broke and he couldn’t finish the thought.

“Like Thorn.”

“Yes.”

Thire’s eyes turned away from Stone’s, up towards the ceiling. “I am so sorry. I never- I couldn’t put you and Fox through that again.”

“It’s okay, kid. I’m just glad to have you back with me.” Stone reached down with his free hand and clasped Thire’s hand in his, running his thumb in small circles on the back of Thire’s hand. “What happened to you?”

“I must’ve passed out.” Thire’s gaze turned back to Stone. “Maybe the water was too hot and my blood pressure dropped too quickly?”

“Guess you’ll have to stop taking hot showers then.”

Thire’s face broke into a tired smile. “Never.” They sat in silence for a minute before Thire spoke again. “Stone, could you grab my clothes?”

“Yeah.” Stone rose from Thire’s side to reach up for the clothes that dangled from the storage cubby above the bed. “Do you want help?”

“Stone, if I can’t get my greys on then I should probably retire.”

Stone laughed with him as he stepped back to put a fresh pair of his own blacks on. When he turned back around, Thire had managed to get the pants of his blacks on and throw the towel onto the ground. “Do you want a shirt?”

Thire shook his head. “Too constricting. Stone?”

“Thire?”

“Could you hold-.” Thire stopped, biting his lip. He didn’t want to appear weak. Even in just Stone’s presence, the pressure that the Kaminoans had placed on them to be perfect could be felt.

“Of course, Thire.” Stone crossed the room back to Thire’s bed, playfully pushing Thire over so that he could lay down beside him. “Come ‘ere.” He pulled Thire back over to him, wrapping an arm around his waist and tucking Thire’s head under his chin. “Fox thinks that the war is ending soon. When it does, we’ll have a new chancellor, maybe even one you won’t be allergic to. Everything is going to be alright, Thire.”

“I know, Stone. I know.”

---

When Stone woke the next morning, he found Thire’s head still laying on his arm as his younger brother dozed. Despite the numbness in his forearm, Stone stayed still, watching the rise and fall of Thire’s chest. Though Thire was only a month younger than him and he hadn’t been through the stressors that those made to be commanders had, he looked older than Fox did already with his brow furrowed even in sleep. The end of the war had to come soon. But sooner than the end of the war was the time they had to report in by.

“Thire.” Stone murmured.

His brother’s eyes opened on the first mention of his name and he sat up so that Stone could roll out of bed. When Stone came back from the refresher, Thire had already assembled his armor and was reading over a datapad. When he caught Stone’s gaze, Thire turned off the datapad and tossed it back into one of the drawers under his bed. “Do you mind if I borrow Jek and Rys today?”

“Go for it. They’re your batchmates.”

“They’re your men.”

Stone shrugged before bending over to pull his boots on. “I know how close you three are. Besides, I’m not going to have enough work to go around today.”

“Thanks, Stone, for everything.” When Stone couldn’t think of a response, Thire waited patiently for him to finish assembling his armor before falling into step at his side as they stepped back into the barracks.

[heauxplesslydevoted]

As The Dust Settles (Chapter 1)

Pairing: Thomas Mendez x MC (Marissa Day)

Summary: Settling into their first year of marriage, Thomas and Marissa are prepared for everything life throws their way...or so they think.

Tags: @princess-geek @chetachisblog @dorishi-desu@hatescapsicum@annekebbphotography @drakewalkerfantasy@seriouslyices @zambazeus @loilko @blackcoffee85@randomchoicesblog @fortunatelywaywardsandwich@canknot@lapisreviewsstuff @akacalliope @senseofduties@badchoicesposts @ao719

As always, enjoy! And let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged.

~~

Six months into this married life, and Thomas and Marissa still find it to be extremely blissful. After swearing off of love after the death of his first wife, falling for Marissa Day was a complete surprise, but it’s something that Thomas is grateful for every single day. She’s a breath of fresh air in their stuffy little town, his solace, his source of comfort. And Marissa feels the same way about him. Thomas is the complete opposite of her ex in every way and sometimes, she wants to punch herself just to make sure she’s not dreaming and she didn’t conjure him up in her imagination.

They settled into an easy routine after getting married, thankfully able to avoid the growing pains of blending a family together. It helped that Luz and Ivy were best friends and now being sisters was the best thing on earth to them. Their mornings were filled with bustling energy, everyone getting ready to start the day, their nights ended with everyone gathering together around the dinner table, sharing stories about their day.

It’s a quiet Monday morning in the Day-Mendez household. The sun is just starting to rise, birds are quietly chirping, and everything is peaceful.

Until Thomas is woken up by a horrible wrenching sound. His eyes snap open and he turns to see his wife isn’t in bed next to him. “Riss? Is that you?”

There’s no response, so Thomas pulls back the thick comforter and sleepily crawls out of bed. He walks to the connect en-suite and finds it empty. 

Following the sound of the commotion, Thomas heads out of the master bedroom and walks down the hallway. The light is on in one of the bathrooms.

He finds Luz hunched over the toilet, throwing up while Marissa rubs soothing circles on her back.

Panic settles in his blood as he sees his baby crouched down on the floor, sick. “Lulu baby, what’s wrong?”

“Don’t...feel good,” Luz replies slowly.

“I heard her in here throwing up,” Marissa says. “And she has a fever.”

Thomas sweeps Luz’s hair away from her face and touches her forehead. She’s burning up. “Oh no. You think it could be a stomach virus?”

“I think so.” Marissa grabs a towel from the counter and runs it under some cool water. She places it firmly onto Luz’s head. “She can’t go to school like this, she’ll be miserable.”

“You’re right. I can stay home with her.”

“You have a huge case to prepare for,” Marissa says. “I can stay with her.”

“Are you sure? You’re still pretty new at work, I don’t want you to get into trouble.”

While Thomas and Marissa were engaged, she was able to complete her schooling and get her degree in social work. Right after they got married, she got a job working with the county, as an advocate for people leaving abusive relationships and connecting them to different available resources.

After her tumultuous relationship with Guy, she felt like it would be a good way to give back and help other people. She’s been there for 5 months now, and she loves every minute of it.

“I’ll be fine. I can take a sick day.”

“Okay.”

“I can handle it in here, you just go wake up Ivy and start getting ready,” Marissa softly orders. Thomas walks out of the bathroom, after giving Luz a soft kiss on the head. Once he’s gone, Marissa turns on the shower. “Why don’t you take a shower and change into some cooler pajamas. And once you’re done, I’ll get you some ginger ale.”

“And crackers too,” Luz adds.

“Of course. Ginger ale and crackers coming right up.”

Marissa leaves Luz alone in the bathroom to freshen up, softly closing the door behind her and she pads back to her bedroom. Thomas steps out of their walk-in closet once he hears her return. 

“Hopefully I won’t be in the office too late tonight,” he says, watching his wife plop dramatically onto the bed. “I’m handling a pretty ridiculous civil case right now.”

“Anything interesting?”

“Two greedy sisters fighting over their late father’s assets. They’re so ridiculous, it’s actually amusing.”

“Why can’t they just split everything down the middle?”

“Because that makes too much sense,” Thomas jokes. Marissa’s phone beeps and she blindly reaches the bed until it hits her fingers. “Who’s calling at 6:30?”

“No call, it’s an email,” Marissa answers. She scrolls through the message and chuckles humorlessly. “It’s the school. They wanted to inform us that there is a stomach bug going around and we should be cautious.”

Thomas snorts. “Well, they’re a day late and a dollar short.”

“Got that right.”

“”You think you and Luz will be good for the day?”

“Of course. We’re going to lay in bed, watching soap operas and daytime talk shows.”

“Sounds like you’re getting a vacation day.”

“Please, I wish.”

Thomas walks back over to their bed and braces his arms on either side of Marissa’s head so he’s hovering over her. He leans down and gives her a short kiss. “I don’t think I said good morning to you.”

“You didn’t, but it’s okay, we were pretty distracted.”

“Well, good morning beautiful.”

“Morning.”

He nuzzles his face into the crook of her neck, inhaling softly. She always smells good, like vanilla. “You know, all four of us could take a sick day. You and I can stay curled up in bed.”

“Are you trying to get out of work?” Marissa teases.

“Just thinking of how nice it would be to spend the day with my girls, and no crazy clients.”

Marissa rolls out from under Thomas and tugs his hand. “You’ve got a job to do, Mister Hot-Shot Attorney. Go to work.”

“Fine,” Thomas relents a pout. Marissa rolls her eyes and gives him another kiss, but before she can pull away, Thomas wraps an arm around her waist. “Give me one more.”

“You’re so demanding sometimes. I like it,” Marissa murmurs against his mouth. She leans into him, kissing him with much more fervor this time around, a hand reaching up to tug his hair.

Thomas grabs hold of her waist, pulling his wife even closer to him. He feels her shiver as he kisses up her jaw. “Don’t start what you can’t finish, Missus Mendez.”

“Can you guys stop eating each other’s faces for five seconds?” Luz asks, causing the adults to spring apart like two teenagers.

“Luz!” Thomas’s cheeks turn bright red. “Honey, we did not see you come in.”

“Come on, I need to get my ginger ale and crackers and I can’t reach the top shelf in the pantry.”

“Sorry sweetheart. I’ll be down there in one minute,” Marissa promises. Luz rolls her eyes, mumbling under her breath and walks away.

“We have to get a lock on that door,” Thomas says with a groan. “I’m tired of getting interrupted.”

“And the kids will still find a way to get in,” Marissa jokes. “Come on, go finished getting dressed. I’ll put on a pot of coffee for you.”

“You’re the best.”

“I know. It’s why you married me.”

~~V~~

Later that afternoon, Marissa and Luz head down to the grocery store. With Luz having an upset stomach, Marissa decided that it would be the perfect opportunity to make her famous chicken noodle soup.

She scans her list as they walk idly down the aisle. “Okay Luz, do we have our chicken?”

“Check.”

“Onion?”

“Check.”

“Celery, carrots and garlic?”

“Check, check, and check!” Luz exclaims.

“Perfect. Now time for my special ingredient. It is absolutely imperative that you keep it a secret.”

“What does imperative mean?” Luz asks.

“Super, super important. Do you think you can keep a secret?”

“I am the best secret keeper.”

“Good.” Marissa scans the produce section until her eyes land on what’s she’s looking for. Running over, she plucks a few ingredients and drops them into a tiny plastic bag.

“The secret is jalapeños?”

Marissa nods. “Yup. That’s why my chicken soup is better than everyone else’s. It adds a little bit of umph.”

“Awesome. I love spicy food.”

“Me too. That’s why you and I go together like peanut butter and jelly.”

“And Oreos and milk.”

“Perfect comparison, kiddo.”

They continue their stroll down the aisles, picking up different food items, happily chatting along the way.

So caught up with their conversation, their shopping cart accidentally bumps into someone else’s. “Oops, I’m sorry–” The apology doesn’t on her tongue once she realizes it was just Vanessa. “Oh. Hello, Vanessa.”

“Marissa, hi.” Vanessa plasters on a fake smile. “You weren’t at the PTA meeting this afternoon.”

“Sorry I wasn’t able to make it. Luz got sick, I’m sure you received the email about the stomach bug going around, right?”

“Yes.” Vanessa’s eyes flicker over to Luz for a brief moment. “Hello, little one.”

“Hi,” Luz mutters, never meeting Vanessa’s gaze. She didn’t like the older woman and made no attempt to hide her disdain. Marissa envied that about her, her lack of poker face. 

Instead of looking at Vanessa, Luz spots a small kiosk on the other side of the aisle. There’s an older lady passing out samples. “Ooh, Marissa, can I try a sample?”

“Are you sure it won’t upset your stomach?”

“It won’t, I swear.”

“Just one,” Marissa insists. Luz happily skips off, Marissa keeping an eye on her until she makes it over to the kiosk. When she turns around, she notices that Vanessa is still standing there, staring at her. “Did you need something?”

“Since I’m here, I might as well give you a synopsis of the meeting. We’re holding a fundraiser the school’s art department later this month. And since you were so...good with the last one, I figured you should run this one as well.”

Marissa barely had time to pull off the last bake sale. But with how busy things get at work, she definitely can’t commit to planning another bake sale. “I can’t. Work has me pretty swamped right now.”

“Surely your night shifts at that dingy little bar don’t keep you that occupied.”

Marissa’s eyes narrow at the dig. Vanessa knows perfectly well that she doesn’t work at the bar anymore. “I haven’t worked at Drafthorse since I graduated last year. You know that.”

Vanessa feigns ignorance. “Silly me, I must’ve forgotten.”

“You’re too young to be losing your memory, V. You might want to get that checked out.”

“Funny.”

“I can’t plan the bake sale, but you can put me down for rugelach again. And I can give a donation from the Mendez household.”

“Oh how nice, Thomas lets you use bank account.”

It’s no secret that the members of the PTA resent Marissa, for a multitude of reasons. But her marrying Thomas was icing on the cake. Not only did she snag one of Goldcliffe’s most eligible bachelors, he was rich to boot. And while Marissa isn’t one to flaunt her husband’s wealth, she’ll absolutely rub it in Vanessa’s face.

She just smiles politely. “My name’s on the account. What’s his is mine. That’s how this marriage thing works, not that you’d know.”

Vanessa’s eye twitches at the insult, but she recovers quickly, her icy facade slipping back into place.

Before she can respond, Luz rushes back over, a tiny cup in her hand. “Marissa, I got you a sample! It’s ravioli and it’s really good.”

Luz shoves the cup in Marissa’s face and the smell invades her senses. She recoils instantly and her stomach churns uncomfortably. She covers her mouth takes a step back. “Luz, get that away from me please.”

“What’s wrong?”

“That smell is–”

She can’t even finish the rest of her sentence before she turns her head and empties the contents of her stomach...right onto Vanessa’s shoes.

“My Louboutins!” Vanessa shrieks. “You’re going to pay for my these, you cow!”

Marissa groans and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, barely registering what Vanessa is going on about. She turns and glares at Luz, who’s staring back sheepishly.

“I think I got you sick.”

“Yeah, I think so too.”

~~V~~

It’s a few days later, and thankfully Luz recovers from her stomach bug and is able to return to school. Marissa is not so lucky, the virus taking her down swiftly and without mercy.

Her third day off from work, and Alma is over, keeping her company as Thomas is at work and the girls are at school. They’re sitting in the living room, curled up on the couch, watching trashy court tv. 

“Wait, wait, tell me the story again,” Alma says in between laughs. “You threw up on her shoes?”

“All over them.”

Alma’s laugh only grows louder. “Man, do you know how much money I would’ve paid to see that happen? Top dollar, Marissa. Top. Dollar.”

“Well, I have to buy her $800 shoes now, so I hope you enjoy the story,” Marissa grumbles.

Alma wipes a stray tear from her eye, a side effect of laughing too hard. “Trust me, the laughter and complete joy this story has given me is priceless. Easily worth the pair of Loubs. You are my queen for doing that do her.”

“It was a complete accident, Alma.”

“Sure it was. You don’t have to lie to me, Riss.”

“I swear, I didn’t do it on purpose. I got so sick all of a sudden and I couldn’t move fast enough.”

“What the hell type of superbug do you have?”

“Who knows. Elementary schools are a breeding ground for germs.”

“Maybe I should go home,” Alma suggests. “I do not want to get sick.”

“No! I will go crazy in this house all by myself.”

“Fine, I’ll stay. But only because you’re my best friend and I love you.”

“Thank you. You have carte blanche to the television and the fridge.”

“You really know the way to my heart. I’m going to get a snack.” Alma slides off of the couch and into her seat. “Do you want anything?”

“Saltines, please. And a cup of ice.”

“Coming right up.”

A few minutes later, Alma heads back to the living room, a bowl of popcorn, a pack of crackers, and a large cup of ice. 

Marissa sits up and eagerly rips open the pack. She stuffs a few into her mouth and she instantly regrets it. Jumping up from the couch, she runs to the downstairs bathroom and thankfully makes it to the toilet before she throws up on the floor. Her throat burns and her stomach clenches tightly from the exertion.

It feels like forever before she’s finally done vomiting–she’s sure it’s just bile at this point considering her stomach is empty–and it takes all of her remaining energy to wipe her mouth clean.

She knows there’s no way she can walk back to the living room, so Marissa curls into a ball on the bathroom floor. The room is spinning, her entire body is trembling, and she’s pretty sure she’ll have to spend the rest of her life on the floor because getting up is not an option.

“Are you alive?”

Marissa instantly recognizes it as Alma’s voice. “Barely.”

“Do you think you should go to the hospital? Because no offense, you look horrible.”

“No, no. I’ll be fine eventually. I just need to lay on this cold floor for a few more minutes and collect my bearings.”

“Are stomach bugs usually this horrible? Should you be throwing up this much?”

“I don’t know.”

“What if you’re pregnant?” Alma muses.

Marissa scoffs at the suggestion. “Alma, don’t be ridiculous. I’m not pregnant.”

“What, are you celibate?”

“I’m a newlywed, of course not.”

“Then it’s a possibility.”

“I can’t be pregnant because I just got my…” Marissa’s words falter. Holy shit. When was the last time she got her period? Wasn’t it supposed to be this week? Or was it last week?

“Oh my god.”

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are... Disgusting “Disease”

Hope you all enjoy please feel free to message with ideas and prompts, I don’t want to run out of material for you to enjoy.

Warning: this one is also a bit gross.

Report ID 2241569

Author Krill

Disease

Can we talk for a moment about just how disgusting humans are? And I don’t mean psychologically this time….. I mean like physically. And physically disgusting in a terrifying sort of way. By now we know that humans are excessive in every way possible, and that includes their diseases; the way I see it, there are two types of disease: the kind that start on the inside based on an internal malfunction, or the stuff that comes in from the outside and causes an internal malfunction. Since I will mainly be focusing on these outside diseases, we will be looking at mainly viruses and bacteria.

1.       The common cold, this is the human trademark super virus. It is, in fact, so common, that most humans ignore it as a part of life. Most of the time, it won’t even stop them from going to work. ‘But Krill’ you may ask ‘what is so wrong about that? It doesn’t seem so bad’ well I’ll tell you why.

a.       Symptoms include dribbling from every orifice like some kind of slimy ooze creature from your worst nightmares.

b.      Coughing, a symptom caused by throat irritation that leads to the spread of the virus by spewing it into the air like a diseased aerosol canister.

c.       And if that wasn’t enough, sneezing irritates the nasal cavity turning the human body into a disease cannon shooting nasty into the air at around 80-200 mph.

d.      The most terrifying part about this? The humans consider it a normal occurrence, and in many places, they will walk into public like that to spread their germs to everyone, and no one cares. Accept maybe in Asian countries, where the humans will wear masks to protect others, or themselves from getting sick, but of course, being lucky me, we are in a western country where no one gives one shit about anyone else catching their nasty.

2.       Oh, can we also talk about the human’s yearly epidemic? Yes you heard me correctly, the humans have a yearly epidemic. In fact, it is so regular and so predictable, that the humans have dubbed this viral epidemic “flu season”. Because like fall, winter, and summer the humans have a time of year where they can just go right ahead and die. Who the F*** has a SEASON for epidemics!

a.       Symptoms include all previously mentioned ‘common cold” but like times 10

b.      Body aches, because nothing says F*** you like a disease that makes your entire body hurt for no damn reason.

c.       This pain notably includes the head.

d.      And like all infections, the human body has one sure fire way to get rid of it. How you ask? Well the human body makes the executive decision to make itself the most inhospitable enviornment possible. How? By turning up the natural body temperature of the human to BURN the virus away

                                                               i.      This would be fine and all if it weren’t for one little problem. The human natural body temperature is 98.6, but starting at about 105 degrees the human body stars burning its own brain and may potentially cause irreversible damage

e.      Other symptoms include gastrointestinal problems (see section 3)

f.        DEATH very probably death, in fact, some years the death toll rises to around 80,000.

g.       And does this stop the humans from going about their daily business? NO, NO IT DOES NOT!

3.       I know my last two inclusions on this list have been mostly respiratory in nature, but lucky for you, I have a fun little tidbit about gastrointestinal diseases. What is it called? You guessed it. The stomach flu or viral gastroenteritis, or an infection of the GI tract. I would honestly rather die of the respiratory flu that have to deal with this mess.

a.       Can cause a low-grade fever. Doesn’t seem so bad you say, well just wait…. Just wait.

b.      Headaches.

c.       Stomach pain, yes, the humans can feel pain in their viscera. And that fact in itself is the most horrifying thing I think I have ever heard. It turns out human digestion already hurts to begin with, and they just don’t notice, but try getting a human to digest when their insides are INFECTED. Can be so bad, it causes the human to curl up on the ground in agony.

d.      Nausea, or the extreme desire to eject all bodily contents out of the mouth.

e.      Can humans do that? You ask…… yes…. Yes they can. Oh…. I…. it’s making me sick just thinking about it. So you know how humans have a digestive cavity filled with acid at about a Ph. level of 1-3….. well if they feel sick enough, their body triggers a reaction that causes all contents of the stomach, acid included, to….. shoot back up the esophagus and out the mouth known as throwing up, vomiting, hurling, tossing ones cookies etc.

                                                               i.      This reaction can have enough pressure to send the stomach contents shooting out of the nose as well as the mouth. And yes, humans tell me that it does burn, its acid after all.

                                                             ii.      This reaction can actually cause other, completely healthy, humans to preform the exact same action upon sight, sound or smell.

                                                            iii.      Some humans have no ability to tell when it is coming, while other humans seem to have a magical 6th sense warning them of this approaching issue.

f.        If any measure of stomach contents manages to last through the stomach, or was, perhaps, already in the lower directional tract by the time the infection is in full swing, digestion goes haywire, and the only option the body has is to eject internal contents as fast as it can….. out the rectum.

                                                               i.      …

                                                             ii.      …

                                                            iii.      … I hate this species sometimes

g.       Both sections 3e and 3f can and will be performed at exactly the same time, and the human has absolutely no ability to control it. So they might just…. Explode, with disease, everywhere. On the floors, on the walls….. everywhere

h.      Humans consider this to be another common occurrence, like the common cold.

4.       And these are just the COMMON human diseases, I haven’t even gotten into the plagues or most specifically the Black Death.

a.       A 14th century human bacterial disease that killed an estimated 50 million people in Asia, Africa, and Europe the latter of which lost up to 60% of its population.

b.      Symptoms first appear flulike with the development of swollen lymph nodes and eventually develop into necrosis of the extremities, seizures, and the continuous vomiting of blood.

5.       Oh look where we are now BACK TO THE F***ing FLU and the 1981 influenza outbreak of the H1N1 strain, a massive pandemic that killed up to 100 million people roughly 5% of the world’s population, and GUESS WHAT some human scientists think it wasn’t ANY DIFFERENT from the current flu they have today.

a.       Granted the flu they have today mutates every year, so this is generally speaking.

6.       Ebola….. F***ing Ebola

a.       Causes you to bleed to death internally.

b.      Isn’t hemorrhagic fever so fun! J L

7.       There are generally too many human diseases for me to discuss right here, but I need you to know that there are hundreds if not thousands more that can cause brain damage, disfigurement, blindness, and cause humans not to be able to move…..

a.       I learn that most of these horrible diseases actually come from the fact that humans domesticated other species on their planet. Some of the more deadly iteration of these diseases aren’t even meant for the humans, but an interaction with animals passes diseases not meant for humans, onto humans.

8.       The good thing is, humans are very good at making vaccines against these diseases. Some of these were even eradicated in the richer countries…..

a.       But humans sometimes don’t understand a good thing

b.      SOME humans REFUSE to take A LIFE SAVING MEDICATION BECAUSE THEY THINK THE VACCINE WILL KILL OR DISFIGURE THEM! F***ING MORONS! Why the F*** do we talk to these people. SOME humans are unable to take these lifesaving medications cause of other underlying conditions and REQUIRE heard immunity to be safe BUT NO! IGNORAMUSES LIKE THESE HURT MY SOUL!

c.       Vaccinate yourselves, as an alien whose planet is about a few billion years older than earth, and of a species who has interactions with other intergalactic races, I know for a fact that the benefits far outweigh the costs.

9.       Humans are insane, their diseases are insane, everything about earth is designed to kill you, even the stuff that you cannot see.

10.   Earth is a death planet

 Article 16 of The Pan-galactic Peace Agreement.

By order of the Galactic Assembly, any species either entering or having already entered into alliance with the Galactic Assembly are required, by law, that anyone leaving their home-world must provide full proof and documentation of a complete vaccination panel including all required off-world vaccinations if they are to interact, visit, or parlay with any out-species factions. Refusal to do so will bar a subject from exiting their own system.

If this law is to be broken, home world-rights are immediately foregone, and punishment will be quickly and thoroughly executed by the Pan-Galactic Penal System. These punishments include and are not limited to, fines, prison sentence, and extradition.

The Galactic Assembly has and enforces this law specifically for the safety of the species, with the knowledge that cross-species disease has the potential to cause planet-wide pandemic and annihilation. It is our desire to enforce this law most strictly, and with full purpose to protect the species under our care.  

[musicaparavolar]

top 10 albums of 2019, honorable mentions and favorite new artists

2019 was an interesting year in terms of my music taste, in that a lot of the music I ended up liking in 2019 I wouldn’t have really thought I would have listened to even 2 years ago....anyway let’s not waste more time let’s Do it

here are my top 10 albums of 2019

10. Weyes Blood - Titanic Rising 9. Methyl Ethyl - Triage 8. Tropical Fuck Storm - Braindrops 7. Freddie Gibbs & Madlib - Bandana 6. King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard - Fishing for Fishies

the top 5 get special treatment though

5. Billie Eilish - When We All Fall Asleep, Where Do We Go? when i listened to bellyache in 2017 i eagerly awaited to see what Billie Eilish would do for an album and she didn’t fucking disappoint. so well produced and so many catchy jams that absolutely fuckin slapped. from the poppy “all the good girls go to hell”, to the infectious “bad guy”, and the somber “ilomilo”. definitely the best pop album of the year. excited for her future. favorite songs: ilomilo, bad guy, bury a friend, i love you

4. Foals - Everything Not Saved Will Be Lost, Part 1 to be honest, i did not have the slightest idea where Foals would go after What Went Down in 2015, so i went into this album with no expectations and they somehow blew them out of the water. it doesn’t go as hard as songs like “What Went Down” or “Inhaler” but a lot of the songs on this album just kinda wanna make you sing and drive through the city without a care in the world. favorite songs: In Degrees, On The Luna, White Onions, Syrups

3. BROCKHAMPTON - GINGER i’m gonna be honest i didn’t really care for BROCKHAMPTON before this album. like i understood the appeal and why everyone hyped them up but i didn’t really get it during the whole SATURATION era. but man is GINGER good. like the production on every song is just so good and man the lyrics are so depressing. the lads are sad and they’re Letting us Know with this fantastic album. favorite songs: BOY BYE, NO HALO, SUGAR, BIG BOY

2. King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard - Infest the Rats’ Nest ok i may be biased because my main blog is named after this band but Hear Me Out. king gizz fans have been wanting this band to make a thrash metal album for as long as i can remember and Boy Did They Fucking Deliver. kind of jarring that this comes out after their boogie/blues album Fishing for Fishies but it’s fantastic, and expands on the message from Fishing, this planet is dying, and eat the rich. favorite songs: Mars For The Rich, Planet B, Superbug, Venusian 1, Perihelion

1. Tyler, The Creator - IGOR

mm man. this album. i was at work when my brother texted me that Tyler put out a new album and i HAD to listen to it in one listening. that first chord from “IGOR’S THEME” send shivers and from then on i knew i was listening to something special. with incredibly relatable lyrics about relationships and them ending horribly to it’s impeccable production in nearly every single song back to back, Tyler deserves every bit of awards and praise he’s getting and more. i never understood when people would talk about music making them want to text their ex or some bullshit like that, but when ARE WE STILL FRIENDS? came on and i was this fucking close to actually doing it, i finally understood that feeling. fuck this album. 10/10. favorite songs: IGOR’S THEME, I THINK, NEW MAGIC WAND, A BOY IS A GUN*, GONE, GONE / THANK YOU, ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?

so There ya have it, the main event. here are the honorable mentions:

Angie McMahon - Salt beabadoobee - Loveworm Big Thief - Two Hands The Black Keys - “Let’s rock” black midi - Schlagenheim Clairo - Immunity DIIV - Deceiver Divino Niño - Foam Emotional Oranges - The Juice: Vol. I & II Foals - Everything Not Saved Will Be Lost, Part 2 Gesaffelstein - Hyperion Lolo Zouaï - High Highs to Low Lows Montaigne - Complex Olympia - Flamingo Tool - Fear Inoculum Tycho - Weather WAXX - Big Grief

here are my favorite EPs of 2019, in no particular order:

Junaco - Awry girl in red - chapter 2 Izzy Bizu - GLITA - EP Arlo Parks - Sophie BENEE - FIRE ON MARZZ Mint Field - Mientras Esperas No Vacation - Phasing Rolling Blackouts Coastal Fever - In The Capital beabadoobee - Space Cadet Gesaffelstein - Novo Sonic System

and last but not least, my favorite new artists:

Annie Hamilton Arlo Parks beabadoobee BENEE black midi Clairo Emotional Oranges The Fuss girl in red HONEYMOAN Kate Bollinger Lauren Ruth Ward Lolo Zouaï maye Mint Field Muunjuun Samia Sure Sure Tim Legend Tropical Fuck Storm YONAKA

so that’s it for 2019! was a great year for music and i really enjoyed discovering lots of new artists.  stay tuned for my top 100 songs of 2019 playlist!

[k-popscenxrios]

Didn’t Ask For This Pt 13 (Roommate!JK x OC)

A/N: So we’re getting closer and closer to the end now! I’m still trying to figure out where exactly I’m ending the story so I’m not sure just how many more parts there will be... If I had to guess, there will be 4 more after this one! I hope everyone will stick around for the end of Jungkook and Ari’s story!

Summary: “I didn’t know you hated me so much,” he spoke as he grabbed my wrist and once again turned me around to face him, “and quite honestly, I don’t think I’ve done anything horrible enough for you to hate me to the degree that you do.” “You say that like the hate isn’t mutual,” I remarked as he shook his head. There was a bitter smile on his face as he took a deep breath, “I think you are quite honestly one of the worst human beings I’ve had to come in contact with.”

6.1k words | drama ✞ | fluff ♡

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | Finale

⇨ Masterlist ⇦

The day was off to a good start since my fever was officially gone. I was relieved to say the least, because I really needed to talk to Hoseok tonight. I was going to tell him everything and apologize profusely for wasting so much of his time.

Hopefully it’ll go well, but I wasn’t holding my breath.

Jungkook and I ran into each other as he exited the bathroom and I was about to head to the bathroom. He had a tired expression on his face, his hair haphazardly sticking up in several different places. I couldn’t help but smile as he looked at me with a questioning gaze.

I reached up to fix his hair as he froze in place, almost leaning into my touch the longer I had my fingers in his hair. He closed his eyes and started to lean into my touch. His forehead laid against mine as I felt my heart begin racing. He put on his cologne today...

I looked up at Jungkook to see his eyelids. He still had his eyes closed...

I smiled and moved my forehead from his, tilting my head to get a good angle to press my lips to his. His eyes opened from my forehead’s sudden absence, but when he realized what was going on, he smiled and leaned in to press a kiss to my lips.

“Have you been talking to Hoseok recently?” 

Taehyung’s voice sounded from his room as both Jungkook and I jumped. We stepped away from each other as I moved my hands from his hair and spun around to see Taehyung walking out of his room. He just barely missed the very questionable stance we had just been in.

“What’s with the sudden question?” I asked as I felt my nerves spike a little. I didn’t exactly want Jungkook to know that I had spoken to Hoseok. He obviously wants me to reject the guy even as rudely as over text, so I could only imagine his reaction if he realized that I was meeting with Hoseok behind his back.

“I talked to him about you yesterday, so I hoped that he might text you or something to check up on you,” Taehyung frowned as he moved past the two of us and turned into the kitchen. I walked toward the kitchen as Jungkook followed behind me.

His eyes narrowed when I glanced back at him, trying to keep myself calm.

“I didn’t hear from him. I guess he didn’t have as much fun on our date as I thought.” I said the words to try and calm Jungkook down, but his stare didn’t back down even a little bit. I was about to deny anything again, but Jungkook cut me off.

“Bull shit.”

He practically spat the words at me as I noticed Taehyung’s face contorted in surprise. I swallowed and turned to face him, but he already had his mind made up.

“He spoke to you, didn’t he?” Jungkook took a step closer to me as I felt panic rise in my chest. I glanced over at Taehyung who was the picture of confusion.

“I said that he didn’t talk to me,” I simply stated with the calmest voice I could muster. Jungkook’s eyes moved to glance behind me before he swallowed and looked down. He was still really pissed, but at least he wasn’t grilling me for information.

“Hoseok did mention something about you,” Taehyung looked up in thought, his memory becoming my biggest enemy, “Oh yeah! When I brought up that I had texted you but got to reply, he told me that you seemed okay to him.”

“Thank you, Taehyung,” I smiled and closed my eyes, feeling my nerves spike. Jungkook’s gaze was back on mine as I felt like I was boxed in with no escape.

“Okay, I talked to him for a little bit, but it was just for him to check on me,” I didn’t think that my words were going to help my case judging by Jungkook’s increasing annoyance. I wasn’t sure whether to be worried or glad that Taehyung’s present, because I would be getting an earful if he wasn’t.

“Okay, does someone want to tell me what’s going on?” Taehyung took a step closer to me as Jungkook’s eyes finally left me. Since Taehyung hadn’t been able to see Jungkook until just now, he had no reason to hold back on his intense glares. I once more felt relief wash over me that Taehyung was here.

Then again, if Taehyung never popped up in the first place, Hoseok wouldn’t have been brought up in the first place.

“It’s nothing,” Jungkook spoke, but his voice was very strained. Taehyung didn’t seem to notice as Jungkook started walking off into his room. My eyes filled with worry as I watched his tense figure disappear as he stepped into his room, “I have a call to make.”

Taehyung and I were left in silence as I couldn’t help but frown. Call? Who’s he calling? I hope to God he’s not calling Hoseok…

Taehyung turned to me to ask me what had happened, but he stopped short when he saw my face. It was as if he could tell just how stressed and upset I was. After all of that, I didn’t have the will to hide any of my pain.

“Are you okay, Ari?” Taehyung asked as he reached out to touch my shoulder. I tried to relax from his touch, but the touch I truly wanted was from the man currently making a mysterious phone call.

I just nodded his way and tried to muster the best fake smile that I could.

“Never better.”

...

“Taehyung, can I talk to you for a second?” Jungkook spoke as he walked into the living room where Taehyung and I were. Taehyung looked at him with an interested look on his face as he nodded and glanced my way. I held back my urge to look their way as Taehyung stood up and followed Jungkook down the hall.

They stepped into Jungkook’s room for a while as I felt something stir within me. I was dying to know what they were talking about, but I wasn’t going to be nosey like I had been in the past. With the luck I was having today, one of them would catch me in the act.

…

Ten minutes later, the two of them walked out of Jungkook’s room as I felt my nerves spike. What could Jungkook possibly have said to Taehyung? It wasn’t like the two of them never talked to each other in private, but for Jungkook to make a statement like that in my company meant something was up... Especially after the jealous episode he just had.

“I don’t know why you thought I’d be mad,” Taehyung spoke with a shrug as he watched Jungkook slip on his shoes. Where was he about to go?

“I just wanted to talk to you about it is all,” Jungkook spoke as he avoided my eyes. I shamelessly watched him as Taehyung glanced my way. I didn’t filter my curious gaze as I could see the hints of worry in his eyes.

“Have fun,” Taehyung waved as Jungkook started heading for the door.

“Whoa, hold up,” I stood up as Jungkook froze with his hand on the doorknob. “Does anyone wanna tell me where Jungkook’s going?”

“He’s…” Taehyung drew out the word as the tried to think of what to say next. He seemed to panic mid-sentence, but my mind was more focused on Jungkook, “He’s just going out to meet a friend of ours.”

“What friend?” I stood up from the couch as I didn’t fail to notice Jungkook spin around and lean against the back of the door.

“This has nothing to do with you, Ari,” his voice was serious, but I couldn’t take him seriously. He couldn’t be real right now…

I wanted to argue with him, but since Taehyung was right in front of us, I had to hold back. I sure as hell wasn’t letting him just walk out the door.

“What friend?” I continued to press as Jungkook’s intense stare didn’t falter. What’s gotten into him? Is he trying to make me jealous? Surely not… “Jungkook, tell me.”

“Just because you like me doesn’t mean I’m obligated to tell you where I’m going,” he snapped as I flinched.

“Okay, what the hell?” I asked, my voice breaking as I felt my whole body slowly begin to shake. He didn’t have to say that, and he certainly didn’t have to say it that way.

“That’s not cool, man,” Taehyung defended me as Jungkook looked up at the ceiling for a couple seconds. He took a deep breath and nodded before visibly calming down. Taehyung took a step closer to me as I felt a whole bucket of emotions dumping on me. This was one of the only times I can recall Taehyung sticking up for me while Jungkook and I were arguing. “The least you could do is pretend to be nice to her. She confessed after all.”

“Okay, I’m sorry,” Jungkook spoke quickly after Taehyung finished talking. I bit the inside of my cheek as I felt stress building up in my being. I didn’t like the fact that we were still doing this back and forth thing. I thought we could get past this…

Though I wasn’t totally innocent in this situation. I did try to hide the fact that I talked with Hoseok...

“Tell me where you’re going, asshole,” I kept my voice steady as my harsh eyes met his. I stood as close to him as I could with Taehyung standing there watching us. For my next words, I practically whispered them so that Taehyung couldn’t hear them.

“You don’t tell me and I don’t tell Hoseok about us. Looks like a second date is happening,” I crossed my arms across my chest, but Jungkook was good at holding back his reactions. He glanced at Taehyung who was increasingly worried and confused over the two of us.

“Go right ahead,” Jungkook spoke as I felt my entire being freeze in shock. Okay, what? That didn’t make any sense coming out of his mouth! What was all that stuff yesterday and the day before that?

“Jungkook,” I looked down, only to look back up with a softer look than before. I wasn’t mad anymore. I was just scared that Jungkook had lost his mind. What was all of our conversations before now about? And Jungkook has been very clear on his feelings for me… Surely he wasn’t playing some game with me. “What the hell?”

Jungkook looked at the door to get away from my upset gaze. He put his hand on the door knob again and started to open the door. I took a deep breath as I watched him walk out without saying another word.

“I’m sorry, Ari,” I heard Taehyung speak as I just stared at the door. I almost couldn’t believe what had just happened. Did Jungkook really just tell me to schedule another date with Hoseok? After all the arguing we did about him, I was so pissed that he would say something like that to me. I didn’t even care if he said it out of rage or if he said it because Taehyung was within earshot.

Now all I was thinking about was if I was actually going to schedule a second date. I really truly shouldn’t do that to Hoseok… If I thought that this was the end of Jungkook and I, I would probably feel differently. The only reason I would ever consider going on another date with him would be because I’m terrified of turning him down. He’s just such a nice person to be around…

But I would feel like garbage the whole time that I was around Hoseok because I’d consciously be aware of my motives the whole date. I just need to suck it up and get it over with.

“Ari?” Taehyung’s voice brought me out of my thoughts as I looked up into his worried eyes. “Are you okay? I’ve never wanted to smack him more than I did just then.”

I let a small smile appear on my face as I walked over to him and wrapped my arms around his left arm. I snuggled into his side as he looked down at me and ran his free hand up and down my arm.

“If Jungkook and I were somehow… to become a couple,” I started speaking as I felt Taehyung stiffen, “could you learn to be okay with it if it makes me happy?”

He was quiet for several seconds, but I didn’t try to look at him. I took several deep breaths to prepare for what he was going to say, but he never said anything.

He lightly pushed me away to look into my eyes as I felt my nerves spike. His face was blank, devoid of emotion, but his eyes were full of worry. I waited patiently for Taehyung to say something as we both stared the other down.

“You don’t seem very happy to me.”

I blinked a few times as Taehyung’s blank expression morphed into a frown. He put a hand on my arm as he softly caressed it. I tried to let his touch comfort me, but I was too focused on what he said.

“Well obviously not at this current moment,” I spoke softly, my eyes trailing off behind him, “What if Jungkook is only treating me this way because you don’t approve?”

I was trying to subtly put the idea in Taehyung’s head that Jungkook likes me, but he didn’t seem to be buying it.

“So you think all that he is seeking is my approval?” he asked, suddenly gripping my arm. He looked even more upset before, but it was a sympathetic sadness. I nodded in response, but he didn’t seem to like that answer.

“Ari,” he let out a breathy laugh, but it was empty. The slight smile on his face didn’t last long as he took a deep breath, “If Jungkook truly likes you, he would have already tried to talk to me about it.”

I felt my mood shift to become very defensive at his words. I felt myself getting worked up as I tried to not second-guess anything. What Jungkook and I have is real. I don’t want Taehyung feeding other ideas in my head!

“What makes you so sure with that statement?” I felt my voice growing panicked as I tried to calm it down, “You’ve been pretty intimidating and protective of me. He’s probably worried that he’ll lose you as a friend.”

“Ari,” Taehyung called my name again, more pity being laced in his voice. Taehyung needed to stop looking at me like that. Jungkook loves me! I know he does! I felt it that night on the roof. I saw every soft expression on his face, I felt it from every kiss he gave me.

It wasn’t just a hookup that meant nothing. Jungkook loves me, no questions asked!

“If Jungkook liked you in return, he wouldn’t have asked for my permission to meet up with your old friend, Soomin.”

I felt my muscles stiffen as I looked up in Taehyung’s eyes. He was messing with me. “Taehyung, you’re not funny.”

“I’m not being funny,” Taehyung shook his head and looked at the floor so that he didn’t have to look at me. “Why would I lie about something like that when I know it would hurt you?”

“But why would he go meet with her?” I felt my hands shaking, tears building up in my eyes. I couldn’t help but think back to all that Soomin said about wanting to get Jungkook back with her. For all I know, she’s been pestering him constantly and he just never bothered to tell me.

But why the hell would Jungkook actually willingly go and meet with her? Surely he wasn’t trying to hurt me on purpose, even over all this Hoseok drama...

“He told me he wanted to catch up with her,” Taehyung slightly shrugged as I took a deep breath, “I think he’s also going to apologize to her or something? I asked him if he was and he didn’t confirm nor deny it.”

I spun around to get my face out of Taehyung’s view as I felt my lip quiver. I fished in my back pocket for my phone as I shakily opened up Jungkook’s contact in my phone. I hadn’t used it once since he’s been here, but I was relieved that Taehyung had put his number in for me just in case.

“Ari,” Taehyung called as he tried to grab my phone, but I was faster than him. I rushed across the room and pressed the call button, holding my phone to my ear. “Ari, he’s probably just going to forward you to voicemail. He seemed pretty pissed off! Just try to forget about him and maybe talk to Hoseok-”

“Tae,” I sniffed as I wiped away the few tears that had fallen down my cheeks, “I want you to listen to me and listen to me well. I’m in love with Jungkook. I don’t want to try and forget him and move on when there’s a possibility of something there.”

“But what if there isn’t?” Taehyung’s eyes narrowed, but his expression was still filled with worry, “What if he truly doesn’t feel anything for you like that?”

“Then…” I paused as I heard the sound of the call going to voicemail. I felt my breath catch in my throat as I shook my head and started to call him again, “Then I’m the biggest idiot in the world if that truly is the case.”

Taehyung tried to walk over to me and give my any kind of consolation, but I wasn't having it. I walked away from him and started down the hallway towards my room, heartbeat increasing with every ring. Taehyung rushed after me as he spotted me walking into my room, moving to close the door behind me. He moved to block the door from closing as I felt more tears fall from my eyes. None of this was real… This whole morning has just been a bad dream…

“If he really doesn’t feel anything for me-” I took a shaky breath, another tear falling as I heard the automated message for his voicemail again. I tightened my grip on my phone before dropping my hand to my side, allowing Taehyung to push my bedroom door to get a better look at me.

“-He’s possibly the worst human being on this earth.”

::

Jungkook didn’t come back all afternoon, and by the time for my shift rolled around, I didn’t want to get out of bed. Taehyung and I sat and talked for a while about random things as he tried to get my mind off of Jungkook, but it was only a temporary fix. The moment he left for me to get changed, I was right back into my depressed state of mind.

Once I arrived at work, I felt my mood darken further. I was scheduled to work with Chaeyoung and Jimin, and those two were being very touchy. I wasn’t doing a good job at hiding my jealousy when they weren’t looking, but when Chaeyoung would smile over at me, I’d send her my most convincing fake smile.

I felt my grip tighten on my broom looking at the two of them holding hands. They had toned down the PDA over the past two hours, but even seeing them holding hands put me in a sour mood.

I couldn’t help but remember how right it felt for Jungkook’s hand to be in mine. The day that he angrily dragged me through the halls after catching Chaeyoung and I in the closet came to mind the most. He looked so angry and his grip was so firm, but it was the first time Jungkook truly made my heart skip a beat.

It took about three hours until Chaeyoung finally realized how upset I was.

“Ari,” She grabbed my arm to catch my attention. She had let go of Jimin to rush up to me, and I felt my nerves spike, “Ari, are you okay?”

I took a deep breath as I looked down, not fully ready to tell her everything. How is she going to react to what all Jungkook and I have been through since I last spoke to her? I certainly don’t want her to get so angry that she yells at him or anything…

But I have to tell her something because she knows that something is wrong.

“It’s a long story,” I started, but Chaeyoung wasn’t having it.

“And you have all night to tell it while we’re cleaning theaters,” Chaeyoung stated as she moved ahead of me to stop me from walking, “You’re making me really worried, Ari. This is all because of Jungkook, isn’t it?”

I looked away from her as my breath hitched in my throat. My muscles tensed as my eyes locked on to the eyes of Hoseok. I had completely forgotten about him coming up here. This was not going to go well.

“Oh God,” I spoke as Chaeyoung raised an eyebrow. Instead of looking in the direction of my gaze she continued talking. I felt my panic increase as Hoseok started walking in our direction.

“What did he do this time?” She continued grilling me as I turned my attention back to her. “Did he say something horrible? Do something horrible? Did he yell at you?”

“Chae,” I called as she stopped talking, “We need to put this conversation on hold. I’ll explain everything later.”

“Why later?” she whined, but her question was answered when Hoseok finally became earshot of the two of us.

“Hey Ari. Is now a good time?” he asked as Chaeyoung spun around in surprise. She looked completely shell shocked at his appearance as I moved away from her and nodded. I felt my stomach twist every which way as I moved closer to him. I had no idea how this conversation was going to go.

“I’m gonna take my dinner break now,” I told Chaeyoung as Jimin appeared next to her. She just nodded with dumbfounded look on her face. I was not looking forward to telling her this story…

…

Hoseok and I sat in his car in silence as I looked out the window nervously. The only noise in the air was the whir of the air conditioning blowing in our faces. The parking lot was fairly empty looking despite how many people were going to the movies tonight.

“I don’t know how I’m going to talk about this,” I spoke with complete honesty. Hoseok looked at me and leaned against his door, turning his body to me.

“That doesn’t sound like this is going to be a good conversation,” he observed as I let a bittersweet smile appear on my face. Despite how horrible I felt, he still managed to make me smile…

“I wish I could make this a good conversation, but no matter how I look at it…” I paused and looked down at my hands that were holding each other, “this isn’t going to go well.”

“Well, hit me with your worst,” Hoseok spoke, nodding for me to go ahead, “You’ve built up the anticipation, so this better be all that you’ve made it out to be.”

I smiled once again, amused with his wording. He was being so… cool about my vagueness. He knew that I was about to reject him, yet he still had a smile adorning his face.

“I’ve had a lot of fun with you every time I’ve been around you,” I spoke as his expression didn’t shift even a little, “Our date the other night was the best date I’ve been on. Well, let me rephrase that. It’s the most fun I’ve had with a friend in a long time.”

Hoseok’s eyes softened as I let out a little broken laugh, “Our date is the only date I’ve been on, so saying it was the best date wouldn’t mean much.”

“I’m flattered, really,” Hoseok nodded, saying no more as he let me continue.

“I look at you and I see… quite honestly one of the most perfect men I’ve ever come in contact with,” I paused as I saw a smile spreading across his face, “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted in a man plus more…”

It was silent for a couple seconds as I continued to gather my thoughts.

“But?” Hoseok leaned forward a little as he re-adjusted his position to make himself more comfortable.

“But…” I nodded, looking back down at my lap. My nerves weren’t getting too out of hand, and I could only assume it was because of how calming Hoseok was. He patiently waited for me to continue as I tried to muster up the courage to admit it to him. It was a very intimidating thought, but when I looked his way again, everything seemed to fall into place.

“I’m in love with Jungkook.”

I was startled by my own words despite having said them many times before. I had only intended to start off telling him that I was in love with someone else, slowly easing into telling him that Jungkook was that ‘someone else’.

Hoseok’s eyebrows raised at my sudden confession, and I felt my heart breaking at the slight look of hurt in his eyes. It was masked quickly as Hoseok let out a sigh, looking up at the ceiling of his car.

“I didn’t see that coming to be honest,” he shook his head, the smile slowly fading away. I kept playing Hoseok’s hurt expression over and over in my head, growing sick over the thought. That’s exactly what I was worried about… That look right there was the last thing that I wanted to see on him.

And the fact that he was hiding it very well made me paranoid for all the other emotions he could be hiding from me… I could feel my body becoming more tense, and Hoseok seemed to notice that I’d gotten more on edge since I let that secret slip.

“I’m sorry,” I spoke, shaking my head in shame. I closed my eyes and put my face in my hands for a couple seconds, “I didn’t mean to be that blunt.”

“No,” Hoseok grabbed one of my arms and pulled it away from my face. I looked intently in his eyes, my worried ones searching his for any more hidden emotions. “It’s okay. I’m guessing that Taehyung doesn’t know…”

I shook my head, “He actually does know. He just doesn’t like the idea of Jungkook and I…”

Hoseok nodded as I looked down again.

“Don’t tell him any of what I’m about to tell you, please,” I said, feeling his soft eyes watching me, “I want to be the person to tell him. I don’t want him to hear it from anyone else.”

Hoseok held up his hands as if to show him surrendering, “You have my word.”

I sat in silence as my mind flashed to the man in question. All day, every time I thought about Jungkook, I’d feel stinging in my heart. All I had been reflecting on was all the negative events that had happened a few short hours ago.

But in this moment, all of our good memories were flooding to me. I memorized every kiss and every caress, chills running through me at the thought of his touch. I recalled the smell of his cologne and how heavenly it smells to me. I smiled at all the times Jungkook had broken his tough manly exterior to give me a look of concern. Soft Jungkook made me want to grab him and never let him go…

I felt the words flowing naturally out of my mouth as I began explaining everything to Hoseok. I started with how much we use to hate each other. I moved on to explain how we grew closer despite not wanting to, and the closer we got, the more I fell in love.

I spilled my heart out to the man in front of me, coming up to the events that happened right after our date. I debated whether or not to disclose the rest of this information since I was so worried about hurting him, but he had seemed fine throughout the night.

I decided to continue on with my words as Hoseok seemed to slightly stiffen at my confession. His look of hurt made me stop my explanation as I started to apologize yet again.

“No, It’s okay,” he shook his head, “I mean, of course it makes me sad, but I just really liked you. I’m not going to hold anything against you. Please finish your story because I can tell there’s more to it.”

I was reluctant to continue, but Hoseok had talked me into finishing the story. I didn’t filter anything out at I mentioned everything. He knew about the soft words only to turn into harsh arguments. I even told him about Jungkook’s insane jealousy problem, ending with informing him that Jungkook doesn’t know that the two of us were meeting tonight.

Hoseok wasn’t surprised in the slightest hearing about Jungkook’s jealousy. The two did used to be kinda close in high school, so I guess he already knew Jungkook was the jealous type.

“I j-just…” I stuttered, feeling so many different emotions overwhelm me, “I can’t apologize enough for how much of your time that I’ve wasted…”

Hoseok just shook his head, sending me a selflessly soft smile. Despite all the things I had told him and all of his feelings that I stomped all over, he was smiling at me. It was comforting at first, but after having finished telling him everything, I just felt wrong. I felt like such a horrible person, and I had no one to blame but myself.

“Every part of your life happens for a reason,” Hoseok spoke, breaking myself out of my sad thoughts. I tried to nod to agree with him, but I found my body staying still.

“Do you think that Jungkook is in my life to stay here?” I looked down at my lap as my own words crashed into me like a wave of negativity. For the umpteenth time, I was crying over Jungkook again. “Or do you think that this summer, the time I’ve spent with him, was all just so I know what it’s like to be in love?”

I blinked away the tears as the silence in the car was deafening. It wasn’t a very fair question to ask him, but I couldn’t help it. Hoseok is the only person outside of Jungkook and I that knows the full story behind us.

“Ari,” Hoseok called, drawing my attention to him as I heard his voice quivering as well. I felt worry fill my whole being as I noticed his eyes were growing red. Oh no. Oh God no. Hoseok was crying now? All because of me?!

“I’ve known Jungkook a long time. Sure, we’re not super close or anything, but I’ve seen him go through some relationships,” I felt my heart tear into a million pieces as a tear slipped from his eye. He was quick to wipe it as I felt my supply of tears re-enforcing. “I saw him go through small uses like him breaking off a fling, all the way to him being devastated over a break up. He really tries to keep you from thinking about it, but the kid has a heart, too. He might have possibly one of the most breakable hearts out there.”

I looked down to wipe more tears away before looking back up to Hoseok. My hand reached out to grab his to try and comfort him. He looked down at our hands in surprise as I gave him a reassuring squeeze.

“Jungkook’s heart being fragile?” I almost laughed at how unreal it sounded, “He acts like his heart is made of stone or something.”

“I know,” Hoseok laughed through his tears that seemed to be coming to a slow stop. He looked out his door’s window as I just watched him. “It sounds strange. To my understanding, the kid got hurt in the past and has tried to block his heart out. He laughed in the face of love and anyone that tried it on him. I thought he was just being a moody teen when he became so cold in high school, but to know that he’s still trying to do that to this day has me pitying him even more.”

I felt myself choke up as I felt my brain recollecting everything between the two of us. I recalled every argument from the day he walked in to present time. There had always been something I would see in his eyes when we would go from bantering to yelling. He hid it so well that I barely noticed it, but the look was there. I never understood what it was or what it meant, but thinking back on it, I realize what those looks were. Those were the real, raw Jungkook slipping through for me to see.

Ever since the night on the roof, Jungkook’s been a whole mess of emotions. He would go from the sweetest man alive to the most hurtful person every few hours, and I think I started figuring it out. He knows he’s in love with me, but he can’t help but be terrified that I’m going to hurt him like girls in his past. So every time he gets the least bit hurt, he blows everything out of proportion to try and save himself.

“H-he…” I swallowed, sniffing to try and clear up my nose, “He met up with my old friend, Soomin, today.”

Hoseok glanced over at me in surprise, wiping away the last of his tears. He seemed to have calmed down, and I wished I could calm down, too. “This is the girl who’s high school life he ruined, right?”

I nodded before continuing, “She told me that she wasn’t going to forget him and she wanted to actually date him. You know, the same day Jungkook and I first kissed.”

Hoseok nodded, remembering what I had told him a little bit ago.

“So for him to go and meet with her out of the blue just because he’s mad at me…” I looked out the window to try and calm down as Hoseok patiently waited for me to continue, “I can’t help but feel betrayed. It’s not my fault that I’m a decent human being and wanted to explain everything to you in person.”

“You did the right thing,” Hoseok reassured, “Jungkook is just too blinded by jealousy to think about how other people might feel. You just need to talk to him about all of this. Not only that, but you really need to talk to Taehyung, too. Sure, he’s really protective of you, but he’s your brother. He wants you to be happy, even if that means that you end up with his best friend.”

I took a deep breath hearing Hoseok’s words. If Hoseok had told me this yesterday, I’m not sure that I would agree with him…

But witnessing what I did today with how soft Taehyung was with me… maybe Hoseok’s right. I’ve been so concerned with Taehyung and how he’ll take Jungkook and I being together, but he’s my brother. He may not be happy with us at first, but he’s never been a person to hold a grudge for too long. If that were the case, he and Jungkook would not be friends for as long as they have.

“You’re right,” I felt my tears drying up the more I thought about it all, “I can’t believe that it took you telling me for me to realize that.”

Hoseok just sent me a soft smile as we sat in a comfortable silence for several seconds. I glanced at the time on my phone for a second, but my eyes caught sight of something else.

I had received a call from Jungkook.

I took a deep breath and realized that he called only two minutes ago. I guess I forgot to turn my ringer back on when I went on my break.

I looked up to Hoseok to tell him that I really needed to go, but he spoke before I could.

“You should probably call him back,” Hoseok nodded as I swallowed and nodded in agreement.

“I’m sorry I have to go,” I frowned, but Hoseok just waved me off.

“It’s fine.” he smiled and watched me as I opened the door to step out of his car, “If it’s not too awkward for you, I would love to at least be friends. I won’t try and make any moves on your or anything.”

I smiled and let a soft laugh out of my nose. This is exactly how I wanted this night to go, and I felt euphoric over the fact that something went right for once.

“I would love that.”

::

A/N: Sorry to cut it off before the phone call, but this was the best cut off I could give. I hope you enjoyed this part!! Finally Hoseok knows the truth, so all we have left is Taehyung~

Thanks for reading!

⇨ Masterlist ⇦

[whentommymetalfie]

But you can have me

A/N: in response to a nice little assortment of requests -domestic fluff, gift giving, Tommy wearing Alfie’s clothes, and the 5+1 thing. Aka all my usual things in one fic: Blankets, flowers, gratuitous fluff and hurt/comfort. Tommy suffering. 

Summary: Five times Alfie told Tommy that he loved him. And one time Tommy said it first. 

Wordcount: 10K (I KNOW pls forgive me!!!) 

Warnings: descriptions of injury and illness 

It’s something rare and precious, to have Tommy Shelby love you. That much Alfie realizes. Because he’s terrified to love, which in and of its own is terrible and sometimes Alfie wishes that he could… burn the entire fucking world for making him so afraid. And not only that, but he’s got this idea that he’s not worthy of someone else’s love either. These are things that Tommy would probably rather die than admitting out loud, but Alfie knows. He sees.

So that first time, when he tells Tommy that he loves him, he’s absolutely stunned when he says it back. And not only says it back but actually means it. Alfie can see it in his eyes, because there’s a spark of absolute terror there. So yeah, he means it. Right then, it feels like Tommy gives him a tiny piece of his heart, and Alfie is just doing everything he can not to break it. And slowly, he gets more pieces. He can always tell when it happens, because it’s in those rare moments when Tommy looks insecure. He gets more pieces, and he is equally gentle with all of them. To the best of his abilities.

Alfie tells Tommy that he loves him as often as he can manage. Partly because life is short and you never fucking know when it’s going to end. But most of all, it’s just because he does love him, and he’s never been one to not speak his mind.

Sometimes Tommy says it back.

Sometimes he just smiles.

Sometimes, on bad days, he looks away.

And he never says it first.

Alfie doesn’t mind- Tommy loves him, and if Alfie  has to be the first to say those words out loud each time, that’s fine. The problem is that he suspects -no, is absolutely convinced- that Tommy never says it first because he’s terrified that Alfie won’t say it back. Again, nothing that Tommy has ever admitted out loud. Just another one of those things that Alfie knows.

And that, he can’t have.

Not much to do, though, except taking care of all those pieces and hope that eventually, Tommy won’t be so afraid anymore.

-One-

Tommy is still in bed when Alfie wakes up, a rare occurrence on weekdays. He’s usually down in the kitchen, on that spot on the counter -the best place to sit in the entire house, apparently- smoking and making no efforts what so ever at making breakfast. But more often than not these days, Tommy will have made tea by the time Alfie gets down there. A solid arrangement, that -Tommy makes tea while Alfie takes care of the food.

But not today. Today, Alfie opens his eyes, blinks to clear them from sleepy gravel, and finds Tommy curled up into a ball right next to him on the mattress. He smiles and inches forward, running a hand over his back as he leans in and kisses his forehead lightly. As expected, Tommy opens his eyes a fraction, but closes them again just as quickly

“Morning, sleeping beauty.” Alfie pulls him into a hug, enjoying the feeling of Tommy’s body, relaxed and warm from sleep, in his arms. Tommy lets out an incoherent hum and makes no effort to move or speak any actual words, but Alfie is just as happy to just continue holding him, placing occasional kisses on different spots of his face. Like his freckled cheek. Or the tip of his nose. Or those pouty lips. Alfie has plenty of spots to kiss.

After a few more minutes of this, however, it becomes clear  that Tommy isn’t planning to move anytime soon.  

“Fine then, suppose I’ll take care of breakfast, as usual,” Alfie says, kisses his forehead, and climbs out of bed. “Which I’m more than happy to do, mind you. Since I’m such an exemplary specimen of a man…”

Tommy remains quiet under the duvet.

Alfie goes downstairs to make breakfast, whistling a bit to himself as he pours water into the kettle and puts it on the stove. It’s good that Tommy stays in bed for a bit, as strange as it feels. Things have been moving a bit too fast for Alfie’s liking these past few weeks, in this never ending cycle of tasks that need to get done. They’ve both been working long hours, but as a rule, if Alfie works long hours, Tommy works even longer. So, yeah, it’s good that Tommy for some unfathomable reason has decided to sleep in today.

But when the tea is ready and the eggs are in the pan, Tommy still hasn’t showed up in the kitchen. And at that point, Alfie goes up to the bedroom to investigate.

Tommy is sitting on the edge of the bed, back turned against the door.

“Haven’t gotten further than that, have you?” Alfie says. “And here I thought you were the punctual one out of the two of us. Always nagging me for trying to capitalize on the time I get to spend in this bed with you by-“ he cuts himself off, because Tommy isn’t responding. Isn’t moving at all or even acknowledging his presence.

“Tommy?” He walks around the bed and puts himself in his line of sight. Tommy glances up, but his gazes shifts to the floor again, as if it’s too… heavy, to even lift. A surge of worry stabs at the pit of his stomach.

“Are you sick?” he asks, reaching to put a hand on his forehead. The skin feels cool and smooth underneath his palm.

“No.”

Alfie runs the palm down to cup Tommy’s cheek. Strokes the dark circles underneath his eyes gently with his thumb.

“You didn’t sleep well,” he states.

Tommy doesn’t answer. His chest rises, as if drawing in breath for a sigh, but no air comes out. Sometimes, a sigh can be completely silent and just hang in the air instead.

Alfie sinks down onto the mattress next to Tommy.

“Maybe we should stay home today? Just rest for a bit. Things have been a bit hectic lately, I reckon. We could both use a break.”

Tommy shakes his head but makes no effort at all to move.

“We should… go to the office. There’s a delivery coming at eleven,” he says and Alfie curses silently. Of course Tommy remembered that. Tommy always remembers.

“Fuck it, they can deal with that on their own.”

“You know they can’t,” Tommy says without a hint of a smile. He rubs a hand over his face. Then he says something that nearly physically knocks Alfie from the bed, “I think I’m… I’m just going to sleep for a while. I’ll come in a bit later.”

Alfie watches in stunned silence as he crawls back under the covers and draws his knees up to his chest. The worry has turned from a quick surge to a heavy lump now.

“I’ll stay here with you.”

“No. Go. I’ll be there in an hour. Is that okay?”

“Of course, yeah, reckon you’ve put in enough time to last a lifetime,” Alfie says and everything feels absolutely surreal.

Afterwards, he thinks that it may be a selfish instinct, deciding to go to the office anyway. Because he can’t bring himself to pace around the house, worrying about whatever is going on with Tommy today. Better then to distract himself with work.

He brings Tommy a cup of tea, and a slice of toast that he cuts up into small pieces. An ingrained habit that is solely reserved for when Tommy isn’t feeling well. After some hesitation he puts Tommy’s cigarettes there on the tray, and his lighter.

“Try to eat something, love,” he says when he puts the tray on the nightstand. Knowing full well that he won’t. Then he checks again to make sure he doesn’t have a fever, and Tommy doesn’t even supply with some annoyed comment about him fussing and that does nothing to calm him down.

Then he goes to the office.

The following hours he’s so wrapped up in everything that goes on there- his employees do have a tendency to keep him busy with their utter fucking incompetence, so for a while, he forgets to think about Tommy every single moment. And suddenly it’s afternoon, and the sun is shining in through a dirty windowpane in his office, hanging low in the sky. He sinks down behind his desk, and that’s when he finally realizes that Tommy never showed up. He stares at the empty chair behind his desk, where the papers are stacked as neatly as ever in meticulous order. And he decides that it’s time to go home right this second, to hell with everything else.

Leaving Ollie and Eli in charge, he decides that if the bakery burns down, it’s fate, and drives home.

He expects to find Tommy in the drawing room. Or possibly the living room. Anywhere downstairs really. Thinks that he probably just needed some time to brood over some thing or another, and that he’ll be hunched over a pile of papers with a cigarette by now.

But instead, he finds him in bed.

It’s way past noon and Tommy is still in bed. The cup of tea sits untouched on the nightstand, and the ashtray is empty. Leaving him alone the entire day was most likely a mistake, Alfie now realizes.

His back is turned against the door, and he doesn’t move when Alfie sits down.

“I’m home,” he says. As if that’s necessary to point out. “Did you get any sleep?”

Tommy doesn’t respond.

“Are you sure you’re not sick?”

“I’m fine.”

“Well you’re definitely not fine, because as far as I can see, you’ve been here in bed all day and that’s definitely not fucking fine.”

The room fills with that heavy kind of silence that weighs down on his shoulders. For a while he just sits there, uselessly, watching the steady but slight rise of the duvet as Tommy breathes. When several minutes have passed, he decides that doing… something, anything, will be better than doing nothing at all, so he shrugs out of his waistcoat, lies down behind Tommy on the bed and hugs him tightly. At first, Tommy tenses up, becoming stiff as a board in his arms. But then he slowly begins to relax. Alfie can pull him a bit closer then, until he’s snug against his chest and he buries his nose in his hair. Tommy’s feet are cold. His hands too. In fact Tommy’s entire body seems to run a few degrees colder than Alfie’s, always. He breathes warm air against the back of his neck. Wraps his hands around his wrists and rubs them gently.

Outside the window, the sun is setting, shining soft light in through the window.

“Talk to me, love,” Alfie whispers and hopes it doesn’t sound as much as a plea as it actually is. “Did something happen? Something I don’t know about?”

Tommy shakes his head.

Silence. A car passes by outside. Alfie listens to the sound disappear in the distance. The city outside seems unusually quiet today.

“I don’t know what’s wrong I just- Things are just… bad today,” Tommy finally whispers. He draws a shaky breath. Alfie pulls him closer. Not much else he can do, when things are like this. Bad. Tommy might not understand it himself, but Alfie does. It’s the same kind of bad that makes him work endless hours at the betting shop, going through piles of paperwork and smoking just to keep his head and hands busy. Same kind that makes him go all quiet and close himself off, so that Alfie has to reach across fucking oceans just to get to him.

This is just a new way for it to manifest.

Tommy’s hands have gone a bit warmer. Alfie fits his palms over the back of them. Holds them and pulls them against his chest.

“I love you,” he whispers. Just that.

Tommy’s ribcage rises under his hand and he waits for the inevitable question: why? It’s the usual response on days like this. Alfie always answers, of course. Doesn’t mind listing the reasons over and over again and he’s done it a thousand times and he’ll do it a thousand fucking times more.

But this time, Tommy just releases the air into a long breath. Then he rolls over to face Alfie, and when Alfie pulls him close to his chest, that last bit of tension finally drains from his body, leaving him relaxed in his arms.

He doesn’t ask.

He just let’s Alfie hold him.

-Two-

“Good morning to the man of my dreams!” Alfie makes sure that the exclamation is loud enough to wake Tommy up -though that really is no hard feat considering he’s a light sleeper at best.

And sure enough, the long eyelashes flutter and Tommy peers up at him as he walks up to the bed, sets the tray down on the nightstand and seats himself on the edge of the mattress. He kisses Tommy’s cheek, soft and warm from sleep.

“Morning,” Tommy mutters and blinks a few times. His gaze first lands on the roses on the nightstand. This is a particularly large bouquet, and the flowers spill over the edge of the vase into a huge cloud of red petals. As always, Tommy’s eyes sparkle when he looks at them. And as always, he tries to hide it.

Tommy would deny it to his dying breath, but he loves it when Alfie gives him flowers. Alfie could see it the very first time he bought him some. Back then it had felt strange and bordering on absurd; surely they’re not the kind of fucking couple who buy each other flowers? But then he passed that flowershop on some godforsaken street on his way to Tommy’s house, and after spending a solid minute just marveling at the fact that there’s a fucking flowershop in fucking Birmingham, the urge to just… buy some for Tommy hit him for some inexplicable reason. Maybe because he never thought he’d have someone to buy flowers for, and the suddenly he did. And whether that person actually wanted to receive the flowers or not seemed less important.

So, he showed up at Watery Lane with roses -which for some reason felt like the best choice- and extended the bouquet to Tommy when he opened the door. And Tommy didn’t laugh or come with some snide remark -both were reactions that Alfie was prepared for. Instead he just blinked in surprise.

“Are these for me?” he asked after a while. Are these for me? As if Alfie would show up with flowers for someone else at his fucking doorstep. Which Alfie had to point out before Tommy finally accepted the flowers, taking them in both hands and holding them carefully, as if they were made out of glass. The ‘thank you’ was so quiet that Alfie just barely caught it. And for a short, surreal little moment the indifferent veneer just washed away and Tommy looked heartbreakingly insecure

And he suddenly realized that it’s likely no one had ever bought flowers for Tommy. And that Tommy probably didn’t expect to ever receive any, either.  

So after that, he’s continued to buy flowers for any and all occasions. Tommy mutters about it sometimes; tells him it’s not necessary because flowers really serve no purpose. But he blushes prettily every time.

This time is no exception, and Alfie is as delighted as always to be privy to such a sight.

“What’s the occasion?” Tommy asks and looks at the huge bouquet with bright and happy eyes.

“Oh, absolutely none at all.” Alfie shrugs. “Other than it being yet another day which I get to spend in your presence, love.”

Tommy rolls his eyes. “You’re fucking impossible.” He laughs and props himself up on his elbows, meeting Alfie halfway when he leans down to kiss him. He tries to keep it chaste, but Tommy hungrily deepens the kiss, eagerly pulling him closer.

“The tea will get cold,” Alfie points out, but willingly settles on top of him when Tommy spreads his legs.

“The tea can wait,” Tommy mutters against his lips. Tugs him closer and hooks one of his legs around his waist. He smiles up at Alfie. “If we’re quick about it, it’ll still be warm afterwards.”

And who is Alfie to turn him down when he makes such a reasonable and excellent point?

The tea is miraculously still warm afterwards, despite Alfie making sure Tommy is taken very good care of, in several positions -because he’s nothing if not thorough. Good quality pot, he points out when he pours them both a cup. Tommy just responds with a hum as he lies there on the mattress, cheeks flushed and lips swollen. It’s a very nice view to have while he drinks his tea.

After a little while, Tommy rolls over onto his side, and Alfie catches him looking at the roses on the nightstand. But he pretends that he hasn’t noticed. Because Tommy has this look on his face; this dreamy, happy little smile coupled with eyes that seem to sparkle. And Alfie is entirely sure that if he’s made aware of it, the look will fade and he’ll never get to see it again.

“It’s getting to be pretty expensive, this,” Tommy mumbles and reaches out to carefully run his finger along one of the petals. He glances quickly at Alfie, tucking his hand back under his chin. “You really don’t have to, you know. I don’t need… all this.”

Alfie isn’t sure if he’s just referring to the roses, but his heart clenches painfully none the less.

“One of these days, I’m going to plant you an entire rose garden,” he says. “Just… rows and rows of rose bushes. And our house will just be overflowing with them.” He pauses, and adds as an afterthought. “Did you know that there’s this whole system with flowers, yeah? Where different numbers and colours and what not mean different things?”

“I had no idea.” Tommy smiles and it’s not clear whether he actually doesn’t know or if he’s just indulging Alfie. Alfie decides to explain none the less.

“White roses are all about… chastity and purity you know.” He runs his fingers through Tommy’s hair and Tommy closes his eyes. “A single red rose is something along the lines of ‘you’re the one’ and then twelve of‘em means ‘be mine’ or ‘I love you’, depending on who you ask I reckon”

“Mhm, and how many is this?”

“Think it’s about… fifty,” Alfie answers and very much enjoys the way Tommy’s eyes snap open and widen into a look of poorly concealed horror.

“And what does fifty roses mean then?” he asks, quickly straightening his features. Alfie sets his teacup down so that he can wrap both arms around Tommy and pull him close.

“Oh, just that I love you more than… all the flowers in the entire world could say.”

Tommy blushes in such a deep shade of red that he’s beginning to look like one of the roses and promptly squirms out of his arms to hide his face in a pillow.

“You just say things like that to torment me,” he accuses from within the feathery depth. Alfie chuckles fondly and settles behind him, deciding to let him hide in there for as long as he’d like.

“Sure I do, love.”

- Three-

When Alfie steps into the hallway at Watery Lane, he is greeted by a surprised Tommy. Who almost walks straight into him on his way towards the door. Alfie’s heart skips a beat. Tends to do things like that, when he’s been away for a few days and finally gets to see him again.

Before Tommy can protest or say anything in greeting, Alfie slides a hand to the small of his back, pulls him close and kisses him. Tommy lets out a muffled yelp in surprise, but then kisses him back. Alfie drops his suitcase unceremoniously on the floor and wraps the other arm around him too, but when he tugs him yet a bit closer, Tommy winces. And whines in pain. It’s quiet and he quickly stifles it, but it’s enough to  abruptly pull Alfie out of his pleasant haze. When he opens his eyes and takes a step back, he just catches Tommy clutch at his left arm before he manages to straighten his features again.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Tommy says, way to quickly and completely unconvincing. His eyes dart towards the door. “I was just on my way out, so I-“

Instantly suspicious, Alfie reaches for his arm but Tommy snatches it away, taking a step back. Alfie follows, pinning him with his most stern look.

“What’s with your arm?” He tries to grab it again but Tommy shrinks away from him like a spooked animal, clutching it to his chest protectively. Somehow, it’s not until now Alfie discovers the bruises. There’s one on his neck, right below his jaw. A scrape above his collar. And underneath the cuff of his left sleeve, a bandage is peaking out.

“Tommy…” Alfie folds his arms over his chest. Tommy glares.

“I hurt it when I was helping Uncle Charlie with something in the yard,” he mutters. Alfie raises both eyebrows and stares him down. “Go on.”

“The shutter to the hayloft was broken, I climbed up there to fix it, one of the floorboards broke and I fell.”

“And this was your job because…”  Alfie gestures for Tommy to fill him in and gets a halfhearted shrug in response.

“Everyone else had left for the day and it was either me or him,” he then says.

“It didn’t fucking occur to you to wait?” he asks sharply. “I know that you can’t fucking let anyone else do their job without interfering, but honestly that’s only half the fucking issue here-” He tries really hard not to raise his voice, but that proves near impossible. “The other half is that we’ve had multiple bloody conversations this past week, right, and you didn’t bother telling me that your fucking arm is broken. I do remember even asking you if everything was alright.”

“It’s not broken. Doctor says it’s just a crack in the bone,” Tommy says dismissively, and then heads for the door. He holds himself differently, Alfie notices now. Gingerly, as if simply standing up hurts. Alfie reaches out to grab his arm but stops himself in the last second, letting the hand fall to his side. He opts for walking around Tommy and blocking his way again instead.

“Where do you think you’re fucking going?”

“The stables,” Tommy answers simply. “We have a new horse.”

“You’re not going anywhere in this state.”

“Don’t bother,” Ada mutters as she passes the hallway on her way to the kitchen. “Everyone’s been trying to get him to stay in bed. It’s no fucking use.”

Yeah Alfie is well aware of that. Doesn’t mean he’s not going to try, though.

“We’ve been over this fucking time and time again,” he snaps at Tommy. “You’ve got to stop treating your body like some disposable fucking thing that you can just… use until it completely breaks. You’ve only got one.”

Tommy squares his jaw and scowls at him.

“Go on, leave him be. Nothing to do about the pigheaded men in this family!” Esme calls from the kitchen. “Come in here and help me with dinner instead.”

While Alfie have been busy listening to Esme, Tommy has ceased the opportunity and slipped out the door.

Spouting a long string of the worst curse words he knows, he tugs his coat off and goes to the kitchen. Hopefully whatever Esme is up to will be enough of a distraction to take his mind off Tommy and his idiotic ideas for a few hours.

Tommy actually shows up for dinner. And despite only greeting Alfie with a sour look, he even sits in his usual spot next to him, quietly and very slowly getting through his meagre portion -and really, would it fucking kill him to eat a normal amount of food?-using only one hand. Which turns the whole thing into an even longer affair than usual. For a brief moment Alfie considers offering to cut the food for him, but that would no doubt end with his hand skewered on Tommy’s fork.

The tension between them is so thick that you could cut it with a knife, something the rest of the family tries very hard to ignore.

And really, he reasons, Tommy is the one at fault here. Alfie should give him the exact same treatment and silently brood until the end of fucking time, because that’s how long this will go on for. Tommy rarely is the first to apologize. But the truth is, he’s fucking missed him. And he’s not in the mood to fight. Better then to just swallow his pride. So after a few minutes of tense silence, he reaches under the table and puts a hand experimentally on Tommy’s thigh. Tommy doesn’t move his leg away. And after a few more minutes, a hand comes to rest on Alfie’s just briefly, squeezing gently.

The rest of the meal is considerably nicer.

After dinner, Tommy excuses himself, and quietly slips upstairs. When Alfie comes into the bedroom, he’s already in bed, hidden far underneath the covers. Alfie chooses not to comment on the early hour, or ask why Tommy has suddenly decided that now would be a good time to sleep. Instead he strips down to his underclothes and slips into bed next to him

Tommy’s left arm is wrapped tightly in gauze. He gently runs a finger along it, featherlight, barely touching.

“You in a lot of pain, love?”

“It’s fine,” Tommy replies softly.

He turns on his side and shifts a little closer. Alfie carefully wraps his arms around him. It’s more familiar than it should be, this, gingerly holding Tommy to avoid various injuries. Alfie is overwhelmed by another just as familiar feeling: of wanting to lock him up somewhere, just to keep him safe. Or at least take him away from all of this. Far away. And he knows that it’s completely impossible, but it’s a nice little fantasy, still. For now, he has to settle for listening to Tommy’s steady, quiet breaths.

His last coherent thought before he falls asleep is wondering if it’s not common practice to put a cast over cracked bones. But he decides to ask Tommy about it tomorrow.

Alfie wakes up from the sensation of fire against his skin. At least that’s what it feels like in his sleep. Charred, glowing coals that sear the skin on his chest and neck. The fire licks his arms too, so he struggles to get away from it, his muscles feeling sluggish and weak. The coal feels oddly soft, not at all like brittle wood- But it’s too warm, so he shoves it as far away as he can manage-

Someone whimpers. A quiet, heartbreaking sound that he immediately recognizes, and it prompts him to open his eyes.

“Tommy?” Alfie reaches for the bedside lamp and warm light flickers to life. Thankfully he hasn’t shoved Tommy entirely out of the bed, just to the opposite side of the mattress. He lies there, sprawled on his back, breathing ragged and mouth hanging open. His face is pale save for the bright red flush on his cheeks and sweat is beading on his forehead. Suddenly Alfie is wide awake.

“Fuckin'ell,” he mutters and sits up. He brushes Tommy’s sweaty hair away from his forehead, flinching at the heat radiating from his skin. “Tommy, hey, wake up for me, will you?”

Tommy remains completely unresponsive and he pulls the duvet away. His shirt is clinging to his body, soaked with sweat, and he’s clutching the injured arm against his chest. The undershirt has bunched up around his elbow, and Alfie grimaces when he sees the gauze, soaked through with blood and puss. Things that definitely shouldn’t be leaking from a cracked bone. Alfie curses, and when he shakes Tommy he finally opens his eyes. They’re bright and glazed with fever, not completely meeting Alfie’s.

“You have a fever,” he tells him. “Guessing it has something to do with the state your arm is in.”

Tommy whimpers again and tries to pull away when he grabs his wrist.

“Hold still,” he grunts and fumbles with the gauze. “What have you done to yourself, eh? Silly boy.” Tommy squeezes his eyes shut and he focuses on unwrapping the arm. The heat is absolutely radiating from it, increasing the further he gets through the layers of gauze. When he gingerly removes the last bit, Tommy winces. Alfie does too. Impossible not to.

“For fucks sake, Tommy…”

There’s a cut across Tommy’s forearm. A deep gash with red, inflamed edges, leaking blood and crusted with other vile substances.

“Did you snag it on something when you fell?” Alfie asks. Tommy lets out a feeble hum. “And let me guess, you haven’t actually been to a doctor to have it looked at? Or made sure it got properly cleaned?”

“I cleaned it,” Tommy mumbles. “Promise I did- I didn’t- mean-“ he trails off and turns his head away, burying his face in the pillow.

“I’m calling a doctor,” Alfie states and climbs out of bed, ignoring Tommy’s quiet ‘no’. The cut is infected, clearly, but it doesn’t seem to have turned into a full blood poisoning yet. But he’s not taking any fucking chances, not with this. Not with Tommy.

He knocks on Polly’s door and musters up all his willpower to then stand in the hallway and wait for it to open. Luckily it only takes a few moments. Not the first time he’s had to drag Polly out of bed due to their mutual and constant struggle to keep her nephew somewhat alive and well.

“What’s happening?” Poll asks the second she opens the door, dressing gown pulled taught around her body and hair disheveled.

“Tommy’s got a fever,” Alfie says and experiences a strange moment of déjà vu. “His arm’s in a right fucking state. Got himself an infected gash. I think he might need a doctor-“

Polly is already ushering him back towards the room.

“I’ll handle this. I know my way around an infected wound better than that hack of a doctor. Just stay with him and I’ll gather some things-“ She glances in through the open door, hissing: “Fucking idiot, is what he is…”

Despite the sharp words, the worry is clear on her face when she turns and hurries down the hallway.

Alfie returns to Tommy’s bedside, feeling quite useless. He settles for stroking his hair while he waits for Polly to come back.

Polly soon returns with her arms full of bottles, cotton wads, a basin of water and about a million other things Alfie can’t fathom how she’s managed to carry, and he’s quick to stand up and help her set the supplies down on the nightstand.

“Alright,” Polly sighs and rolls her sleeves up, eyes sharp as she looks from her unresponsive nephew to Alfie. “You hold him, this is going to hurt like hell.”

Alfie ends up seated with Tommy halfway pulled into his lap, with the infected arm stretched out and supported by his knee. He tries to not look too closely. He’s never been squeamish, but it’s different when it comes to Tommy. Always been.

Polly drenches a wad of cotton in some liquid that smells vaguely like hay and a lot like strong booze, grabs Tommy’s wrist and says: “Remember that you brought this on yourself.” She glances at Alfie. “You got him?”

Alfie grunts and tightens the grip on Tommy’s arm. Tommy winces and his eyelashes flutter. And when Polly begins cleaning the wound, he pitches forward and lets out a bloodcurdling scream.

Alfie steels himself for what promises to be a hellish few minutes, and holds him tighter.

The following half hour or so -fucking impossible to tell- is equal parts chaotic and unpleasant. Tommy squirms and whines throughout the entire thing, switching not only between languages but between cursing them both, and moments later sob brokenly into Alfie’s shirt and cling to him for comfort. The ruckus succeeds in waking the rest of the house up of course; worried faces appear in the doorway, but disappear just as quickly when both Polly and Alfie snap at them to leave. Even Finn is up at some point, Alfie is certain he sees him for a brief moment before another adult comes to usher him back to bed.

Ten minutes -half an hour, or an absolute eternity later Alfie has absolutely no clue- Polly finally straightens up and reaches for a clean roll of gauze.

“There we go, that’s what not taking basic fucking measures to clean a wound will get you, remember that Thomas,” she says brusquely, but her eyes are soft when she looks at Tommy who has fallen limply against Alfie’s lap, drawing shuddering breaths. Alfie gently wipes away the tears that have run along the curve of his cheekbone while Polly wraps the now clean cut with gauze. And he doesn’t miss the way she lingers, squeezing Tommy’s hand gently, before she gets to her feet.

“He should be alright. The fever will break soon, hopefully, now when that’s taken care of.” She nods towards the arm. “But keep an eye on him, make sure it doesn’t start rising again.”

She gathers the supplies in her arms again, brushing an unruly lock of hair away from her eyes with the back of her hand.

“You’ll be alright from here?”

Alfie grunts in response.

She closes the door on her way out and then he’s alone with Tommy again. He sets about freeing him from the clothes, soaked thorough with sweat as they were. It’s not the easiest thing in the world considering Tommy is completely limp on the mattress. Tommy has stolen -or ‘borrowed permanently-’ several of Alfie’s larger shirts by now, so he finds him one of those and gets him dressed. He remains just as unresponsive through this procedure, but when Alfie can finally tuck him back in under the covers, he comes to again, blinking sluggishly up at the ceiling before fastening his gaze on Alfie.

“Hey, love,” Alfie says softly, lying down next to him and stroking his cheek. “You did really good. All done now.”

Tommy nods slowly. His head fall to the side, resting heavily against the pillow. Alfie strokes his hair. It’s damp from sweat and the fever is still burning under his skin.

“How am I gonna get you to start taking care of yourself?” he sighs. To himself, mostly. “And if you’re not gonna do that, the least you can do is fucking tell me when you’ve… torn your fucking arm to shreds.”

Tommy glances up at him through tear drenched lashes. “Are you angry?”

The question sounds utterly sincere and Alfie guiltily realizes that, yeah, maybe he hasn’t handled this whole thing in the most composed way. And despite the mix of worry and frustration Tommy’s inability to stay out of trouble causes him, it’s still not… right.

He sighs. “No, I’m not angry.” He pauses, thoughtfully stroking Tommy’s temple. “I know that I… don’t always react in the most calm and composed way when I find out you’ve been hurt. Alright? I can admit that. But I don’t want you to be afraid of telling me about shit like this because you think I might get angry.”

Tommy closes his eyes and relaxes a bit under his hand. He lowers his voice to a whisper.

“So if it would make it easier I promise to… try to behave, in the future” he says. “See I don’t mean to get so heated about stuff like this. It’s just that… I love you, alright? Love you so much that it scares me sometimes. And I just want you to be safe.”

“I’m safe.” Tommy crawls a bit closer, burying his face in the crook of Alfie’s neck, sighing when the contact sooths his burning skin. “I’m with you.” It’s not the kind of thing Tommy would say when he’s all there in the head, Alfie is aware of that. And it’s clear that he isn’t; His voice is slurred and his eyes are still glazed with fever when he opens them, craning his neck to smile faintly at Alfie. “You keep me safe.”

And still, despite knowing that it’s probably the fever talking, Alfie’s throat feels oddly thick. He tries to clear it.

“Well, I do my best, love.”

One day, it won’t be enough.

He brushes that thought away, wraps his arms around Tommy and reminds himself that today it was enough. And he’ll have to settle for that.

-Four-

When he hears the knock on their front door, Alfie wakes up from his nap on the sofa and instantly knows two things: one, Tommy has forgotten his key. Again. Because he’s the only person who knocks in that particular way (as if the locked door is some kind of personal offence to him). And two, it’s pouring down with rain outside.

Both of these things are confirmed when he opens the door to reveal an absolutely soaked Tommy. He looks like a drenched kitten where he stands on the steps leading up to the house, shivering visibly and with the wet coat hanging off his shoulders. He’s in fact shaking so hard that Alfie thinks he can hear his fucking bones rattling, and realizes it’s not entirely his imagination -Tommy’s teeth chatter together between his closed lips

“Bloody hell, Tommy, decided to take a little swim, did you?”

Alfie moves aside to let him in. A moment later the rainwater is creating a puddle on his hallway floor, staining the wood.

“It started raining,” Tommy says through those chattering teeth, stepping onto the rug instead to presumably save the floors in an usually considerate gesture. Alfie begins tugging off the soaked coat.

“Oh, you don’t say? Seems more like you threw yourself into the Thames, by the looks of things,” he grunts and hangs the coat up instead of just discarding it on the floor, which was his first instinct. Tommy firmly dislikes having his clothes handled with such negligence.

“It started raining a lot,” Tommy offers instead and moves to untie his shoelaces. Judging by the way his hands are trembling that’s a mission doomed to fail, so Alfie crouches down to help him. There are no comments from Tommy on the matter, instead he simply puts a hand on his shoulder and lets Alfie help him. The hand chills him, even through his shirt and Alfie shakes his head. Silly boy. Bound to get fucking pneumonia now, isn’t he? And Alfie will have to spend every second of the coming days worrying, listening to every single little sniffle and constantly wonder if Tommy isn’t a bit warmer than usual… The kind of prize he has to pay to have this man in his life: the constant fear that he’ll eventually get himself killed… And with that thought, he pulls off Tommy’s second boot, straightens up and ushers him towards the staircase.

“Go on, let’s get you upstairs and into some warm clothes before you catch your fucking death.”

Tommy mutters something under his breath about being coddled, but willingly lets himself be led upstairs.

Once there, Alfie efficiently removes the rest of Tommy’s wet clothes -a task he can do without even thinking at this point, so instead he uses his mental energy to mutter various disapproving comments to Tommy, making it clear just how lethal it can be, getting cold like this.

“-See you’re like the opposite of a seal, Tommy. Seals, right, they’ve got this layer of fat-“ He tugs off a shirtsleeve that is plastered against Tommy’s arm- “All under their skin, yeah? And sure they’ve got a good coat, too, but the fat’s important-“ Tommy tries to help along with the second sleeve, probably afraid Alfie will somehow rip it, but his hands are shaking too hard so Alfie takes care of that too. “This enables them to live in those ice cold waters, doesn’t it- lift your foot, sweetheart, can’t get these off otherwise-“ Tommy steadies himself by putting a hand on Alfie’s shoulder again as Alfie pulls one of the trouser legs off his foot. “But you’ve got none of that, do you? Nah you’re just… skin and bone. Bit of muscle, sure, but fuck that does absolutely nothing to keep anyone warm-“ He tugs the second trouser leg down.  

“Lucky then that I don’t live in the fucking arctic sea,” Tommy mutters surly but lifts his arms so that Alfie can remove his undershirt. Which prompts Alfie to launch into a long speech about how the shitty weather in London could easily compare to the arctic sea, a subject that lasts until he’s gotten every single one of Tommy’s soaked garments off.

Once this is over and done with Alfie opens the closet and begins sifting through contents. When he’s reaches the end of the row without finding what he’s searching for, he turns back to face Tommy.

“Why don’t you have any jumpers?”

Tommy sniffs a little. He’s clad in his rarely used pajamas, still shivering and looking quite miserable.

“Or any… decent fucking socks,” Alfie mutters and goes to rummage through Tommy’s half of their dresser. Or rather… ‘Tommy’s two thirds’ of their dresser. “Or have you just left them all in Birmingham eh?”

“I don’t need a fucking jumper,” Tommy mutters and wraps his arms around himself, presumably in an attempt to preserve some nonexistent body heat.  

Alfie straightens up and looks him up and down, from the tightly curled toes to his hunched shoulders. Tommy glares, but the effect is somewhat matted by the fact that he’s still visibly trembling and his lips have turned a peculiar shade of blue. Without bothering with a reply, Alfie goes to the closet and pulls out one of his own jumpers, a huge yellow thing knitted in thick yarn, which he can’t quite remember ever buying nor receiving as a gift. Fuck knows how it ended up in his possession. He finds a pair of thick socks and holds the items out for Tommy, who stares at them as if Alfie just handed him a deer carcass.

“I’m not-“

“Just fucking put them on, I’m going to make you some tea,” Alfie grunts. “And if you choose not to, don’t think you can come crawling to me later with those ice cold feet and dig them into my calves. No you’ll be staying all alone on the opposite side of the fucking bed, mark my words-” He stomps out of the bedroom, knowing full well that all of that is a fucking lie, because the mere thought of rejecting Tommy’s need for a warm embrace at night is just absolutely ridiculous. Still, an empty threat is still… a threat.

He makes an entire pot of tea, slicing some bread as well because Tommy has most likely neglected eating today, so then it’s Alfie’s duty to make sure he does.

When muted footsteps approach he looks up from the bread to see Tommy entering the kitchen. It’s a sight alright. The sweater must be larger than Alfie remembers because he’s had to bunch the sleeves up around his hands and the garment overall looks like it could just swallow him whole. The socks seem to be extending far beyond where his toes end. Alfie feels a smile tug at his mouth.

“Not. A. Word,” Tommy mutters. The sleeves fall down over his hands when he shuffles forward and steals the edge of the bread loaf, still glaring daggers at Alfie. Alfie’s heart aches. It tends to do that when he looks at Tommy. As if it’s so full of all these feelings that it can’t possibly fit them all so it threatens to simply burst.

“For fucks sake wipe that smirk off,” Tommy snaps and steals another piece of bread. Alfie just puts a hand on his back and steers him out of the kitchen towards the living room. With its large fireplace where a warm fire has been crackling all afternoon, it’s a great deal warmer than the rest of the house. Alfie snatches a blanket from the armchair.

“No more!” Tommy protests when he holds it up.

“You’re warm then?” Silence. “Didn’t fucking think so,” Alfie mutters and wraps it around his shoulders. Then he plops Tommy down on the sofa. “Now you just stay here and focus on getting warm and I’ll be back with some tea in a bit.”

Tommy gives him a look and scoots backwards into the corner of the sofa. Then he shrugs the blanket off and demonstratively pushes it to the opposite side of the cushion and then down onto the floor using his foot. Alfie leaves the room before Tommy can see that he’s smiling.

When he returns to the living room a little while later, now carrying a tray, he finds Tommy on the sofa, curled into a ball with the blanket pulled all the way up over his head. He’s shrunk so far down into the jumper that only his closed eyes are visible, and appears to be rather comfortable. So perhaps the blanket wasn’t such a terrible idea, after all.

Alfie sets down the tray on the table and seats himself right next to his feet, reaching out to rub his back carefully.

“You asleep, love?”

Tommy opens one eye and blears at him momentarily before straightening up and looking mildly embarrassed. But when Alfie opens his arms in an inviting gesture, he shuffles closer and curls himself into his side. And if Alfie lets out an undignified squeak when a cold hand finds its way in under all his layers of clothing to rest on his stomach, well that’s neither here nor there is it? He makes sure Tommy is equipped with a teacup in his free hand before settling heavily against the back of the sofa, resting his hand on top of Tommy’s where it’s slumped against his shoulder. Tommy quietly drinks his tea and Alfie tries not to stare too intently, which proves rather difficult because, well, Tommy makes for quite a sight.

The yellow suits him. It strikes Alfie that he’s never seen him wear a colour like that; it softens him, somehow. Showcases his freckles and the translucency of his skin and goes well with his dark curls. But admittedly, most of all, Alfie just likes that Tommy is wearing his clothes. There’s some kind of deeply rooted protective instinct in him that just enjoys that he gets to provide for him, make sure he’s safe and warm. Tommy usually has to be coaxed into that sort of thing, so it always feels like a bit of a privilege, despite how primal and ridiculous that instinct is in the first place.

Tommy sets the teacup down on the table, pulls the sleeve down over his hand and settles back against Alfie’s chest with a content little sigh.

And Alfie loves him so much that he can’t fucking bear it.

He needs to sit and just bask in that feeling. Tommy’s head becomes heavier, his knees slumping down across Alfie’s lap as he sinks further into his arms.

Alfie leans his chin on top of Tommy’s head. Buries his nose in his hair and whispers the words so quietly that they almost blend together with the crackling from the fire.

“I love you.”

Tommy’s voice comes from somewhere in his shirt.

“Mhm. I love you too.” He huffs out a laugh. “Even though you’ll probably smother me to death with all these blankets, one of these days.”

-Five-

Alfie doesn’t get sick. It’s as simple as that. He could probably count the times he’s even had the slightest cold on one hand. Which means he’s forgotten just how miserable it is, and the current ordeal really comes as a shock: the sore throat, the headache, the way every single fucking crevice of his head seems to be full of fucking mucus.

The breaths rattle as he drags them down into his lungs, and despite lying perfectly still with closed eyes for what feels like an eternity, he’s no closer to falling asleep.

“No fuck, this, I’m moving to the guest room,” he rasps, but makes no effort to move. He needs some time to gather himself before actually doing something about the situation. “I’ll just keep you awake otherwise.”

“No point, I’ll hear you snoring through the wall,” Tommy mutters. “You’d need to take in at a hotel or something. At least five blocks away.”

“I’m dying, Tommy. Dying. And you mock me?”

“You’re not dying, it’s just a cold.”

Alfie huffs indignantly, but regrets it immediately. Harsh outlets of air are not well received by his throat.

“Well it can’t be good, this,” he says, indicating to how close Tommy is. “You might catch  it too. Always been far more susceptible to these things haven’t you, fragile little thing as you are.”

Tommy yawns and moves yet a bit closer. “Fuck off. Be quiet and try to sleep now.”

Alfie is quiet. For a few minutes at least, as he thinks about how incredibly parched his throat is. It’s becoming impossible to ignore, but it feels equally impossible to get out of bed and do something about it. His limbs are heavy and sore, and his head is even heavier. Feels like he can’t even lift it. The mountain of pillows and his propped up position helps somewhat to ease  the clogged feeling in his nose but is not doing his back any favors, nor is it helping with the pain in his throat.

It gets to the point where he can’t possibly swallow and he gives up.

“Tommy…”

“Mhm.”

“Water.”

“Get it yourself, you have a cold, not two amputated legs.”

“But I’m sick.”

Tommy groans and sits up. “You’re a giant child.”

But he does fetch water.

It helps. Not a lot, but a tiny bit. When he’s drained the glass, Alfie closes his eyes and tries to avoid swallowing. His lower back is beginning to get sore from this position, and he’s only been in it for the better part of the evening, having stubbornly spent most of the day at the office before finally admitting defeat and going home to ‘avoid spreading whatever plague he’s contracted to his entire workforce’ as Tommy put it. Tommy didn’t go home, of course, no he came home as late as any other day and seemed honestly surprised that Alfie hadn’t gotten any better during the afternoon.

His back hurts a bit more on the right side so he shifts a bit in an attempt to take some pressure off of it.

“For fucks sake, Alfie stay still,” Tommy whines.

Alfie can’t muster up the energy to explain the situation but he does try to relax and remain still.

“You know, you don’t have to stay home tomorrow and take care of me,” he mumbles after a while. A muffled snort comes from his side.

“I wasn’t planning to either, it’s just a cold. Sleep now. I’ve heard that’s the best medicine.”

And as if by some miracle, Alfie does eventually manage to fall asleep.

It’s not a very peaceful sleep: His dreams are strange and confusing, and so vivid that it’s hard to know what is real and not. Most of them involve Tommy, as they tend to; Tommy is lost somewhere in a thick fog, or he’s injured, sick, scared… a whole plethora of unpleasant scenarios to choose from. And Alfie can’t move, his body feels cold and oddly numb, and then it’s too hot, and the muscles are just melting off his bones-

At some point during the night he wakes up from a pleasantly cold flannel being placed on his forehead, and to the sound of a soothing hushing. He opens his eyes and sees Tommy sitting there next to him.

He looks scared; it’s written straight across his face, in his too wide eyes, the crease between his eyebrows. But there’s nothing to be afraid of, that much Alfie knows. The fever unpleasant, sure, and yes he does feel incredibly fucking miserable, but it’s not particularly high.

“Alfie?”

“It’s fine, love, nothing to worry about,” he rasps out and pats his knee reassuringly. “Just a bit of a fever.”

Tommy nods, but doesn’t seem wholly convinced. He takes the glass from the nightstand and helps him drink.

“Go back to sleep, sweetheart,” Alfie says once the water has washed away some of the gravel in his throat. Tommy nods again, but doesn’t lay down. Instead he takes the cloth from his forehead, soaking it in the bowl of water he’s holding in his lap, before placing it back. He begins stroking his hair. Alfie’s eyelids are feeling impossibly heavy so he closes them again. The cloth on his forehead is changed several times before he falls asleep again.  

The bedroom is still dark the next time he wakes up, but the sky outside has gone from black to a greyish blue. Tommy is asleep right next to him, sitting awkwardly slumped against all the pillows, and with the bowl of water precariously balanced in his lap, the cloth lodged tightly in his hand. Alfie moves slightly, about to reach out and move the bowl, and Tommy’s eyes instantly snap open. He straightens up, just barely avoiding tipping the bowl, and puts a hand on Alfie’s forehead. The relief is palpable.

“The fever seems to have gone down a bit.”

Alfie hums in agreement, already feeling himself drift off again, “Yeah, it’s way down. Don’t you worry, love. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.

Then he falls asleep.

He has no idea what time it is when he wakes up the third time. But the sun  is spilling in through the curtains, and it’s enough to tell him it’s somewhere between seven and… well, noon.

Tommy is gone from the bed, and Alfie has a feeling that he’s gone from the house all together. At this hour he should reasonably be at the office. That’s all fine, not like Alfie expected him to stay. Tommy is bad enough at taking care of himself when he’s sick, would be a fucking miracle if he could take care of others.

Alfie is still, to put it mildly, feeling like shit. The past night’s headache has faded slightly, but his throat is still sore, and yes it does feel like his entire head is just filled with mucus. His stomach growls angrily, telling him that he’s hungry. But there is absolutely no chance that he’ll be leaving the bed. He’ll just have to lie here and starve until Tommy decides to come home from the office, and then possibly convince him to make some... Well toast is really the only thing Tommy can make that won’t end in absolute disaster.

The glass of water on his nightstand is empty, and his plan is to lie here for a few more minutes and just muster up enough energy to refill it.

He’s got a feeling is that today is going to be a pretty fucking miserable day.

Then he hears noise coming from the kitchen. Not a lot, just this faint clinking sound that he hasn’t paid attention to until now. It takes a while for him to place It, but it’s definitely coming from the kitchen and could potentially be a very quiet and gentle burglar or a hitman who’s decided to make themselves a cuppa before coming upstairs to shoot him. Honestly that option would be preferable to lying here… He considers his options. He could of course go downstairs and do something about the situation, but the thought of getting up and walking down the stairs makes getting shot in the face sound like a pleasant option.

Then a familiar scent travels up the stairs. And suddenly he finds himself being dragged thirty years backwards, and he’s sitting under the kitchen table watching his mother’s long black skirt swirl by as she walks across the kitchen floor, moving between the oven and the workbench…

Alfie decides that he must be having some kind of strange fever dream. That, or the ghost of his mother is downstairs in the kitchen, baking, and out of the two option, the former seems far more likely.

His mother’s ghost isn’t particularly quiet, because now he can hear soft steps coming up the stairs. He clears his throat and attempts to make some kind of sound. A greeting perhaps. Or a question, but all that comes out is a raspy croak. He clears his throat painfully.

“Hello?”

He should probably be getting concerned about the situation right about now, because the bedroom door creaks open. But it’s not his mother’s ghost, or a burglar, or some scorned business rival, although all those options suddenly seem far more reasonable than who is actually standing on the threshold.

“Tommy?”

“Are you still delirious from the fever? I was hoping you’d recognize me.”

Tommy is standing there in the doorway, hair curling at the ends and sticking out in all directions, barefoot and clad in Alfie’s shirt, with a tray in his hands.

“Stop looking so confused,” he huffs and comes up to the bed, very carefully placing the tray on the bed next to Alfie, moving the teapot and cups to the safer spot on the nightstand. Alfie looks down at the bread on the tray, blinking. It’s pretty wonky looking, and the surface is rather uneven, but judging by the smell it’s definitely a loaf of stolichniy.

He hasn’t smelled proper rye bread like that since…

“You’ve been to the bakery, eh? A proper one.”

Tommy focuses very intently on pouring tea into a cup. “No.”

“Then how-“

“I’ve been practicing.” Tommy still stares at the teacup. “Thought I’d surprise you for our anniversary. Or your birthday. But then I felt that maybe you needed it more today.”

Alfie blinks down at the bread again. He can’t quite connect the dots here. “You’ve been-“

“I know it’s not- it’s not very pretty, but it actually doesn’t taste too bad.” Tommy’s cheeks are bright red and he’s speaking a bit too quickly.

And Alfie, for once in his life, is speechless. Not only that but there’s a lump in his throat for entirely different reasons now and he swallows thickly.

“Go on, sit up,” Tommy mutters and pours a bit of milk into the teacup. He hands it to Alfie once he’s settled against the pillows.

“You learned… how to bake?” Alfie asks, unable to take all of this in.

“Only this specific thing. But I figured that… if I can run a fucking bookmaking business and successfully detonate a bomb it would be a fucking miracle if I couldn’t learn how to do one useful thing in the kitchen.”  Tommy shrugs and seats himself on the bed. He is still blushing. Alfie would tease him, but he feels as if his heart may actually burst in his chest when he looks at him, and now he has to blink away the tears that suddenly well his eyes. It’s the scent of the stolichniy that does it, probably.

Tommy cuts a slice of the bread, spreads some butter on it and hands it to Alfie. He takes a bite, very aware of the way Tommy is watching him. And just as the scent, it brings him right back. To sitting in mum’s lap in front of the fire, listening to her stories of the old country, and her fairytales. Falling asleep there and being carried to bed, still with the sound of happy voices in his ears…

He’s been quiet for far too long and notices the anxious look on Tommy’s face. He swallows.

“Well I don’t know how you’ve managed, but that’s about the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”

Tommy’s eyes light up.

“You’re not just saying that? It’s okay if you don’t-“

“Shut up and take a bite,” Alfie says and tears off a piece from his slice. “At this rate, you’ll be making challah come next Rosh Hashanah, just you see. You clearly have a talent.” He gives it to Tommy who accepts it and takes a small bite.

“I tasted it down in the kitchen,” he admits. “I wouldn’t have given it to you if it was too bad.”

Tommy can deny it all he wants but he’s beaming with pride and Alfie decides that being sick and miserable is entirely worth it for the sight. He takes another piece of bread.

“So, for how long do I get to keep you at home today, then?”

Tommy shrugs and breaks his piece into two, popping one of them into his mouth.

“Think they’ll survive without me at the bakery today.”

Alfie decides that commenting on this would be pushing his luck, so instead he just basks in the absolutely surreal feeling of Tommy Shelby willingly postponing any and all business simply to stay at home and dote on him. They sit in silence for a while. Tommy refills the teacups and flips absentmindedly through the paper.

“This was my mum’s recipe,” Alfie says. Tommy looks up.

“I know. I figured.”

“It’s not even in English.”

“I got some help with the translation,” Tommy says and turns his eyes back to the paper, fidgeting with the edge. The sun is shining in through the window, catching in the dark strands of hair and giving them a warm sheen.

“I love you.” Alfie says. Because there’s nothing else left to say right then. Tommy smiles down at the paper. Then he’s rewarded with a  quick glance through those long eyelashes.

“I love you too.” Tommy looks shy. Still does, on occasion, when he says those words. He clears his throat. “Drink your fucking tea before it gets cold.”

-one-

Mornings are Alfie’s favorite time of the day. At least this particular kind of morning, when they’ve got nowhere to be and can spend the better part of it either lounging around in bed or sitting by the kitchen table, not doing much good. And it’s taken him a good few months -or really, nearly two years- to ease Tommy into the whole thing. But that just makes it all the better that he finally have begun getting around to Alfie’s way of thinking. Even though he’d never admit it out loud.

It’s one of those good mornings. Outside the window it’s bitingly cold, and the frost has painted the windowpane, but a few pale rays of sunlight are shining into the kitchen and washing it in warm light.

Tommy is sitting opposite him by the kitchen table, wearing that yellow jumper that he’s more or less lived in ever since the first time Alfie forced him into it. He’s pulled the sleeves down over his hands, something that Alfie reckons must be an entirely unconscious move, but that makes it no less precious. He stretches out one leg under the table, propping the foot on Alfie’s knee. Alfie reaches down and warms the icy toes with his palm.

“Where’re your fucking socks?” he mutters without looking up from the  paper.

Tommy makes a noncommittal noise around his teacup.

“Yours got a hole in them,” he says.

That word ‘yours’ is really a question of definition, innit? Just like the jumper Tommy is wearing was once Alfie’s, and the shirt he’s wearing underneath was too, the knitted socks Tommy is now referring to are arguably more Tommy’s than Alfie’s at this point. Not that Alfie minds even a little bit.

“I’ll see if I can mend them. Or maybe knit you a pair.”

“You can’t knit.”

“Never too late to learn, love. Figure that a hobby would be good to have. Could be useful too. I could knit you another jumper.” He scratches his beard and squints down at a particularly blurry picture in the paper. It could be a mop. Could also be a tree. He cocks his head a bit and if he looks at it from the side it looks more like a train. The caption tells him it’s Ford’s new car model, and he wonders if perhaps he needs new glasses…

Tommy huffs out a laugh.

“There’s no way you would have the patience to knit a whole jumper.”

“Oh I pride myself on being very patient.” Alfie flips to the next page.

“It’s very difficult, you know, knitting.”

“I have quite skilled hands. You of all people should know that,” he says. “You’ll see. Might take some time, but we got plenty of that, don’t we? Yeah. Maybe I could even learn how to make… those-“ he gestures with one hand to move his thoughts along. “Those patterns, you know. Get some more colour in there. Would you be opposed to something with hearts all over it?”

“Tell you what, if you manage to actually knit something, I’ll wear it no matter how it looks.”

Alfie hums. “Good. Got yourself a deal, there, mister Shelby.”

Tommy is quiet, so Alfie looks up over the edge of his glasses, surprised to see that he’s watching him with soft eyes and one of those smiles that brings out the dimples in his cheeks. He raises both eyebrows.

“Something on your mind, love?”

Tommy shrugs.

“Nothing- just…” he chews his bottom lip and glances down at his hands. Shrugs. “I love you. That’s all.”

That’s all.

Yeah, it is fucking all isn’t it?

It’s everything.

“I love you too,” he says. The words feel completely new, suddenly. New, and like the best words he’s ever said.

[winteringinrome]

Friday 5 and Saturday 6 February 1819

SH:7/ML/E/2/0105

7 1/2 11 50/60

Before breakfast and afterwards, filled a sheet (except about 1/2 the first page written yesterday) the ends full and the 2 first pages and 1/2 the 3rd page crossed, to Miss Vallance1. This took me till 3 and, it being very thick and foggy, staid at home and in the afternoon and evening finished my index to vol. C. Extracts, and added an extract of 8 pages on Gothic architecture from the Quarterly Review for August and November 1809, article 6, vol. 22.

Very thick all the day – but could hardly see 1/2 dozen yards before one in the afternoon. Barometer 1 1/4° above rain F. 35° at 9. p.m. (fire in the hall). Sat up till 5 minutes before 12 looking for observation in vol.5. Gibbon, that I could not find (on the word Kalat, from an Arabic verb, signifying to cover.)3

-----

SH:7/ML/E/2/0105

Saturday 6 February 1819

7 1/4 11 24/60 L

Before breakfast copied the whole of my letter to Miss Vallance4. From question 22 p.238 to example 9 p.243 vol.1 Hutton5. At 3 1/2 [went] down the Old Bank to the library, staid there 10 minutes. Thence direct to Barum-top, and down to the Post Office.

Put in my letter to Miss Vallance (T.Norcliffe’s Esq; Manor House, Dawlish, Exeter6) along Harrison Lane, Black-wall, and Royston road to King Cross, returned down Royston road and thro’ the town, and got home at 5 20/60. In the evening making extracts from vol.5. Gibbon7.

Fine morning and afternoon till 5. A little small rain as I returned through the town, which then gradually increased and I had scarce got in before we had a heavy shower for 15 or 20 minutes. Fair afterwards. Barometer 3/4 degree below rain F. 37 1/2° at 9. p.m. (fire in the hall) – Began vol.D of my extracts, excluding 1 extract made some time ago (Thursday 7. ultimo)8.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––

[1] As mentioned in my last post, Mary Vallance was a young woman Anne met through her friend (and lover) Isabella Norcliffe. They had an affair in the Autumn of 1818, while they were both staying with the Norcliffes.

[2] An historical survey of the Ecclesiastical antiquities of France, with a view to illustrate the rise and progress of Gothic architecture in Europe – Rev. G.D. Whittington – if you want to read along with Anne, you can see the full article here.

[3] With the power of Project Gutenberg I can confirm that Gibbon does not mention the origin of the word ‘Kalat’ in his Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, vol.5 or otherwise. I think Anne was probably looking for this in relation to her nickname for Miss Browne – Calista.

[4] Anne often made copies of the letters she was going to send so that she could refer back to what she had written once she had her correspondent’s reply. A manual email chain as it were.

[5] If you want to Math-along-with-Anne, you can read Hutton’s Mathematical Tracts here (NY edition rather than London so the pages don’t quite match up, but I imagine much is the same).

[6] T. Norcliffe here is Colonel Thomas Norcliffe, Isabella’s father. Mary Vallance has been a close friend of Isabella Norcliffe’s younger sister Emily, who died in December 1817 of an ‘inflammatory fever’ (SH:7/ML/E/2/0007). After Emily’s death, the Norcliffe family remained very fond of Miss Vallance and she stayed with them for several months over 1818 and 1819.

[7] Gibbon’s Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire – volume 5 here.

[8] An extract from an article reviewing Preston’s State of the Nation (Critical Review November 1816)

[artsistory]

Busses! Busses! Trains! Ferries! Trains! Trams! Oh My!

Today was a big bad day of travel. We woke up and took the bus to the train station. 

Once there we took another bus for a couple hours to ANOTHER train station. We got on our train which then drove onto a ferry. We got off the train and onto the ferry. Then back on the train which took us to hamburg. There we caught another train to Berlin. From there we took the tram to our hostel.

During all of this Brandi was sick. We think she probably got sun poisoning or something because she was rocking a fever. The weather had suddenly changed from fine to HOTTER THAN HADES! And our hostel was not air-conditioned. This is my first time in europe over the summer and I had no idea it was so terrible. Our room at the hostel was like 90 degrees. We shoved our bags into lockers and took our laundry down to the basement. Basically everything we packed had to be washed. The laundry machine was a little hard to figure out but once we did Brandi went to try and nap while I tried to do some work. It was just too hot. I moved to the lobby where it was a little better and transferred our stuff to the dryer. I couldn’t really understand the setting options but I did my best using google translate and reddit. I settled myself back in the lobby. After about an hour I checked and all of our stuff was still soaked through! I changed to a different setting and went to check on Brandi. She was snoozing away (I don’t even know how with how hot the room was). I was just deciding to back to the lobby when another roommate came in! She was 21 from Belgium and was only going to be in Berlin for 1 day to meet up with her friend who was coming in from Mexico! They had met in Canada? The people you meet in hostels are absolutely wild. They both spoke 3-4 languages.

After chatting for a half hour or so I headed back down to collect the laundry. IT WAS STILL TOTALLY SOAKED! I googled furiously and found, to my dismay, that I’m not the first non german to be confused by german washer and dryers. Apparently they have many specific settings but none of them really get your clothes as dry as we’re used to in the states. I chose a 3rd setting and settled in the lobby again for another hour and a half. Meanwhile I was getting kind of hungry but the ole travel anxieties got to me a little bit and I wasn’t brave enough to venture out alone. So I starved just a little that night.

Brandi woke up a little and she helped me bring the laundry up. I shooed her to the shower and folded all our things while she went back to sleep. Then I took the coldest shower I could. All the while I was intimately aware of how easy it would be for any of the girls in the hostel to see me totally naked thru the curtains. There was no where to hang your towel in the stall so when I was done I peeked out, checked that the coast was clear, and made a dash for my towel and clothes.

Then I settled into my bunk. Felt a little awkward plugging into my cpap amongst the 21 yr olds but what can you do?

I was already totally covered in sweat again and in a fit of desperation tried to find a hostel with air-conditioning. There were none in Berlin. I then checked my reservation for Prague and cancelled our hostel to book one that advertised aircon. Then I laid awake sweating and listening to our other roommates. I started thinking about how the next day was Thursday and the legendary party city of Berlin would start its long weekend of partying. When I finally fell asleep I did so clutching my laptop to my chest, 100 open tabs for cheap hotels with air conditioning.

The sun rising at 4 am woke me up from my sweaty sweaty sleep. Brandi was feeling a little better but still bad but we knew we had to get out of the hot. We went to go to the Hamburger Banhof!

It’s a cool building because it used to be a train station so it’s one huge hallway!

It was nice to be slightly less sweaty!

Afterwards we wandered around Alexanderplatz, ate some curry, and I bought some shoes! Yay! 

Brandi still wasn’t feeling totally better yet so we went back to the hostel to chill a bit. Of course there is no chill at the hostel. Only hot. So hottttttt. We took that time to book a hotel for the next 2 nights. There’s no way we would survive another 2 nights of sweating.

That night we got some thai food. I had some very weird pad thai that was very spicy. We got back around 11, which to us felt like a reasonable time to go to bed but of course the 21 year olds were getting ready to go out! They really wanted us to join but we are apparently old and uncool now because we just went to bed. They got back in at 5:30 am! I cannot BELIEVE.

[rosary7813563]

The Reign of the Phoenix

Chapter 1: The Awakened

Kara woke up to a burning sensation coursing through her veins. At first, she thought it was a fever, but when the pain became unbearable, she knew something was different. Her heart rate skyrocketed as she felt a power awakening within her. She screamed in agony as the energy coursed through her body, searing her nerves.

Hours passed, and Kara was still writhing in pain when a knock on her door startled her. Her roommate, Jess, poked her head in, concern etched on her face.

"Kara, are you okay? I heard you screaming," Jess said, walking towards her.

Kara tried to respond, but her vocal cords refused to cooperate. Instead, she lifted her hand, and a burst of flame erupted from her fingertips, scorching Jess's hand.

"Kara! What the hell just happened?" Jess yelled, clutching her burnt hand.

"I don't know!" Kara yelled back, tears streaming down her face. "I think something awakened in me."

Chapter 2: The Phoenix

As days turned into weeks, Kara struggled to keep her powers in check. She soon realized that she had become something of a mythical creature, a rare being with fire-based abilities known as a Phoenix.

But with great power came great responsibility. Kara struggled to find a balance between training her powers and keeping her identity a secret. She was afraid of being labeled as a freak and shunned by people.

One night, as Kara wandered around her campus, she stumbled upon a group of muggers attacking a young woman. Without thinking, Kara launched herself into action, her flames blazing around her as she fought off the attackers.

In that moment, she realized that her powers could be used for good, and she decided to don a mask and become a vigilante known as the Phoenix.

Chapter 3: The Rise of the Phoenix

As the Phoenix gained notoriety, Kara's life became more complicated. She struggled to maintain her alter-ego and her normal life as a student. But she found solace in fighting crime and protecting the innocent.

One night, while battling a gang of thugs, the Phoenix encountered an enemy unlike any other. Dressed in black, with a mask that hid his face, the Black Dragon was a formidable foe.

The Phoenix and the Black Dragon clashed in an epic battle, the flames and shadows weaving around them in an explosive dance. The Phoenix emerged victorious, but she knew that the Black Dragon was not one to be underestimated.

Chapter 4: The Trials of the Phoenix

As the Phoenix continued to fight crime in her city, she faced new challenges and enemies. She battled a corrupt politician, a vicious gang leader, and a doomsday cult determined to destroy the city.

But the worst enemy the Phoenix faced was herself. Her own fears and doubts threatened to overwhelm her, and she found herself questioning her purpose and her worth.

It was only through the support of her friends and allies, and her own determination, that the Phoenix found the strength to overcome her doubts and continue her crusade.

Chapter 5: The Legacy of the Phoenix

Years passed, and Kara graduated from college with degrees in engineering and computer science. But even as she began her career, she continued to don the mask of the Phoenix and fight for justice.

She found that the legacy of the Phoenix lived on, as others took up the mantle and continued her work. Kara became a mentor to new generations of heroes, passing on her knowledge and experience.

As she looked back on her life, Kara felt grateful for the powers that had awakened within her. They had given her purpose and meaning, and allowed her to make a difference in the world. She knew that the legacy of the Phoenix would live on, inspiring others to do good and fight for justice.

[jmreyes9]

 DIGGING DANDELIONS AROUND MY DOMICILE (HOME) FROM 

      DAWN TO DUSK ON FIVE NICE DAYS

By Jesse Reyes 

Digging Dandelions around my Domicile (home) from Dawn to Dusk on five nice Days!  How many “D”s in that!

“I was a dandelion puff...Some saw the beauty in me and stooped quietly to admire my innocence.  Others saw the potential of what I could do for them, so they uprooted me, seeking to shape me around their needs.  They blew at my head, scattering my hair from the roots, changing me to suit them.  Yet still others saw me as something that was unworthy and needed to be erased.”  -  Nicole Bailey-Williams.

DANDELION STORY - Three Filipinos from Batangas (a Philippine province) arrived in the Immigration area of the Los Angeles International Airport, to reside in the U.S.   The immigration officer twisted his tongue in pronouncing their last names.  Exasperated, he decided to change all their names to Dandelion.  Their original names, and their English translations in parentheses, were: Dimalanta (doesn’t wither), Dimasupil (can’t be suppressed) and Dimalipol (can’t be diminished—this is my own translation!).  It’s phenomenal that these are all characteristics of the dandelion!  It is doubtful if this story is really true or not.

I spent five days of pulling dandelions and other weeds around my home.  After the third day, my entire body was sore, the muscles in my back aching—these muscles that had been dormant for several months—or years, perhaps?  I really needed a whole body massage but I was deathly fearful of being exposed to the corona virus during this covid-19 pandemic, being a senior, with diabetes and hypertension and male—major risk factors that would invite the dreaded virus.  After five days, I was ready to be admitted to the hospital because of loss of energy and total body aches.  I didn’t have a fever so i didn’t think it was due to covid-19.

You see, after several days of 90-degree weather, there was a lull of 70-degree days.  It had rained the two previous days, making the soil soft and amenable to weed-pulling!  

So waking up at 6:30 in the morning, before the sun had had a chance to rise, I went to work, bringing my tools (a spade, a hoe, a rake, a branch cutter, a small stool I could sit on and leaf bags) which I threw into my wheelbarrow and began my “projects” in earnest.  I had read somewhere that in order to do the job right, you have to have the right tools.  This cliche had stuck in my mind.

Why a hoe, you’re probably asking.  Well, the dandelions and other weeds, especially the crabgrass had grown so big and tall and widespread that I needed to dig deep to uproot them as they had sent their network of roots three or four inches down into the depths of the earth (like a network of terrorists with underground activity).

The hoe reminded me of Edwin Markham’s poem “The Man With the Hoe”, the first four lines of which go:

                          Bowed by the weight of centuries he leans

            Upon his hoe and gazes on the ground,

            The emptiness of ages in his face,

            And on his back the burden of the world.

Digging dandelions and other weeds is similar, to me at least, to reading mammograms (I must have read hundreds, if not thousands, of mammograms during my thirty plus years of radiology practice).  Both are very tedious undertakings and tiring (especially to the eyes).  The big difference is that there is no stress in pulling weeds, while reading mammograms is so stressful—it’s like a sharp sword hangs above you ready to fall on your neck once you make a mistake.  If you miss a cancer in the breast, it haunts you forever, not to mention facing a lawsuit.  Missing a weed or two is not worrisome.  Nobody is watching to tap your hand if you miss pulling a small weed.

I remember always holding a magnifying glass when reading mammograms to look for a cluster of suspicious micro calcifications (tiny, pleomorphic or irregular calcifications) or a suspicious area of architectural distortion (irregular area of breast tissue).  I remember finding a 5 mm. (about 1/5 of an inch) breast cancer, the smallest early cancer that I have diagnosed and which many would have probably missed.

I have now come to love digging weeds around my home in my retirement years.  The sound of the snapping of the dandelion’s deep roots is music to my ears now.  I do listen to real music sometimes, though, from my iPhone when Siri (my trusted personal assistant) plays me some love ballads by Engelbert Humperdinck.  The boredom of pulling weeds vanishes into thin air when this classy British balladeer (he’ll get upset if you call him a crooner!) sings “Release Me” (the song that took him all around the world, according to him).

This hobby of pulling weeds have some added benefits, aside from beautifying the landscape around my summer (as well as spring, fall and winter!) home.  I get sunshine from the early morning sun, a little exercise, and enjoying the fresh air (not as fresh as the air in the mountains, living in suburban Chicago, yet fresh air nonetheless).  I also get some ideas for future write-ups like this one you're perusing right now,  while digging dandelions (and other weeds) around my domicile (home sweet home)—one day starting from dawn and finishing at dusk!

In Matthew 13:24-30, Jesus taught the parable of the wheat and the tares. Tares are weeds that resemble wheat.  In the parable, a wheat field had deliberately been polluted by an enemy who sowed the seeds of the weeds intermixed with the wheat.

The servants suggested that they gather the tares (weeds) up.  But the master said not to do this because they might uproot the wheat when they pulled the tares.  He said to them “Let them grow together until the harvest, and at the time of the harvest I will say to the reapers, “First gather together the tares and bind them in bundles to burn them, but gather the wheat into my barn.”

Written in Chicago, IL in 2020.  Published in Cyberlink in 2020.

[askmybodywtf]

list,,,

joint pain that restricts movement; right shoulder (most often), left shoulder (2 or 3 times?), collarbone (only once but it lasted about 5 days), elbow (once), finger (once)

usually lasts 24-36 hrs; the shortest episode was about 18 hrs (finger) and the longest was about 5 days (collarbone)

episodes happen about once a month on average; often coincide with my periods

the pain usually hovers in the 1-2 range if i'm sitting still or moving carefully (painful but ignorable); when i move my arm it briefly spikes to a 3 (painful, less ignorable); when i'm lying down trying to sleep it creeps as high as a 4 and is constant (painful, not really ignorable, but bearable)

it very hard to move the arm forward and sideways and slightly less hard to move it backwards

HOWEVER. bending the elbow and using the other hand to physically push the arm upwards makes it much easier

the arm usually can't bear weight. if i try to lift smth heavier than a few pounds my arm goes FUCK and i drop the damn thing

the pain radiates a little bit down my upper arm. if i try to move my arm it radiates a bit further

sometimes the pain has radiated all the way down to my fingers when lying down

my hands are generally a bit numb when i wake up on bad days

sometimes the skin of my arm feels strangely achey and sensitive - like having a fever, without the fever

in the beginning, this hit out of nowhere and would wake me out of a dead sleep

now it generally comes on slow the night before and then wakes me out of a dead sleep

the first couple of times this happened, my leg gave out on me. this had never happened before, ever

a much smaller, needle-like pain sometimes pulses between my shoulder blades - used to be every single day, now is rare

sometimes when i'm sat at my computer typing, a smaller ache appears in one or another of my shoulders - literally right now there's an ache near the bottom of my left shoulder blade and another, fainter, in my left elbow, and a very faint tingling in the arm overall. usually it's straight-out just an ache near the top of the shoulder and in the upper arm though, so this is a bit weird

i have pits in my fingernails

my legs tingle from my feet all the way up my thighs when i lie down

my hands tingle when i stand still

i get a headrush when i stretch

my heart races sometimes when i'm literally just lying down

my heart races sometimes when i've literally just stood up

i have a tic; i've always had it but it's gotten more frequent lately

my ears fill up with wax pretty frequently; the wax is dark and thick and affects my hearing

oh, my shoulders are pretty mobile, so stiffness isn't really an issues except on bad days - i can press my palms flat together behind my back

my knees and ankles tend to hurt when i lie down at night

my lower back also usually hurts when i lie down at night

my hands feel stiff and a bit achey on cold mornings

hands/feet turn colors when it's cold, or when i get in a hot shower

my base temperature is about 99.2 and i seem somewhat intolerant to heat? i don't really feel it if i'm sitting still, but when i get up and move about when it's hot out i get a bit dizzy, and my temperature rises very easily. it's gotten up to 100.3 in the absence of illness, just because the room was 80 degrees

i get full very quickly. a few bites of food and i'm no longer hungry

sometimes i wake up and my hip twinges

sometimes i wake up and the top of my foot twinges

shopping trips tend to wear me out

sometimes i get weird sharp pains in my ribs and have to sit down

food goes down the wrong pipe a lot - i don't usually cough, but it hurts and i can't breathe right for a minute until it passes

my joints are pretty crackly. i'm not concerned bc it isn't uncomfortable but other ppl seem to think it's weird, so

things the pain makes it hard to do: SLEEP, get out of bed (have to push/pull myself up with my other arm), shower, get dressed, make food for myself, eat food for myself, sit back in a chair, do my job (involves typing), get up from a chair (same as getting out bed), conceivably anything that requires reaching, lifting, or pulling

these episodes have been happening (again, roughly once a month) since december 2019

conclusion:

think something's maybe a little wrong here

[an-inconvenient-dandelion]

2017 in review.

1.What did you do in 2017 that you’d never done before? made my own sauerkraut, made my own tomato sauce that actually tasted good, got a supervisor fired (definitely the best thing i did all year), took (part of) the GRE, went to humboldt county, drove on a road with traffic.

2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year? no, not really.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth? STEPHY!

4. Did anyone close to you die? several clients, several friends' cats, and Mrs. Bayer (part of my chosen fam) just died a few weeks ago :(

5. What countries did you visit? none.

6. What would you like to have in 2017 that you lacked in 2016? more friends, more freedom, a driver's license, maybe a van? oh and for many politicians to be impeached. and if net neutrality is really dead i hope it means that people will put down their phones and close their laptop and overthrow the government with all the free time they'll have.

7. What dates from 2017 will remain etched upon your memory, and why? i remember certain protests, certain breakdowns, certain feelings of freedom.  

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year? i played a huge part in getting my horrible abusive supervisor fired, which i didn't think was going to work, and almost resulted in ME getting fired. but i didn't! and my co-workers who were equally affected but too afraid to make waves were so grateful and proud. and it made me feel like i could maybe create positive change. a few months later i quit that job because it was making me miserable and took a huge pay cut but i have no regrets, even though i am having a lot more financial probz and it really sucks, my life is mine again.

9. What was your biggest failure? spending a lot of the year drunk. getting into a bike accident and losing my phone because i got too drunk. trying to get sober, multiple times, and failing.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury? i got into a bike accident and bruised my chin and finger. and smashed my glasses. this summer i was hanging out in the hospital with my mom after she got her knee replaced and caught some particularly nasty strain of the flu. i got a 103 degree fever and felt like i was actively dying, but i didn't seek medical attention because it was the same day as the charlottesville murder and i was like, "well, maybe there are worse things than dying right now, like living through the rise of facism." plus i didn't have health insurance and i was traveling. but, obviously, i pulled through.

11. What was the best thing you bought? i really like my suitcase, although i may have bought it last year. my himalayan salt lamps. house plants. shelves. my new "i'm not a boy" hat. pesto.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration? my friends, some clients, some co-workers, a few sweet and beautiful strangers. also all the LGBT/POC people who got elected last election day!!

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed? former co-workers, nearly everyone in power in the government right now, sometimes family, some shaky friends, former friends.

14. Where did most of your money go? just surviving i guess. i currently spend about 60-70% of my income on rent. i usually work 6 days a week. sometimes 5, sometimes 7. it's still better than working in an office.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about? grad school, although i didn't get in. my friends visiting, visiting friends.

16. What song will always remind you of 2017? like half of the "hamilton!" soundtrack. i obsessed over other pieces of music, but they all pale in comparison. 17. Compared to this time last year, are you: a) happier or sadder?  HAPPIER! b) thinner or fatter? thinner (not by a whole lot) c) richer or poorer? POORER (by a whole lot)

18. What do you wish you’d done more of? relaxing, traveling, making new friends

19. What do you wish you’d done less of? DRINKING, working, other self-injurious behaviors, looking at the internet. i quit my smart phone in september and it's been one of the best things i have ever done!

20. How will you be spending Christmas? i worked. i cried twice. it wasn't the worst day ever but i still hated it.

21. Did you fall in love in 2017? no.

22. How many one-night stands? None. I didn’t even really have any crushes.

23. What was your favorite TV program? "transparent" i guess? i don't really watch TV.

24. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year? Yes.

25. What was the best book you read? “"you don't have to say you love me" by sherman alexie. "we were witches" by ariel gore. "life's work" by dr. willie parker. "the unsettlers" and "the man who quit money" by mark sundeen. "modern tarot" by michelle tea.

26. What was your greatest musical discovery? omg, HAMILTON!!!!!

27. What did you want and get? Paid time off, quitting my old job, changes, nice co-workers, a small amount of excitement.

28. What did you want and not get? admission to grad school, a community, an impeachment.

30. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you? i was 35. my birthday party was not on my actual birthday. my actual birthday was kind of blah. i went to the ikea cafeteria and played sims.

31. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying? taking risks, being free.

32. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2017? "I give up"

33. What kept you sane? great co-workers, the sims, hamilton, far-away friends who visited.

35. What political issue stirred you the most? EVERYTHING.

36. Who did you miss? east coasters & dead people, like always.

37. Who was the best new person you met? everyone at my weed job! and everyone i met in pittsburgh over the past few days!

[yongsukbae-korea]

COVID-19 A to Z, if you know it right, you can get out of danger.

175 days have passed since the first patient was confirmed in Wuhan, Hubei Province, China, on December 1, 2019.

​

In China, Hong Kong, India, the United States, and South Korea, the sequence of COVID-19 bases is analyzed and various studies are being conducted on the characteristics of COVID-19.

​

There have been various stories, including rumors that it was developed as a biological weapon, but it is necessary to provide proper and accurate information to avoid any adverse effects that cause fear.

​

Knowing and dealing with COVID-19 correctly will protect us from danger.

​

The presence of asymptotic infections means that the symptoms are very weak in the early stages. It is not dangerous if we find infected patients early.

At least we can reduce ​reduce the number of deaths.

Infection is characterized by being very fast and well-infected, but early symptoms are weak.

​

If you have mild symptoms within the first three weeks, you can treat them and reduce the damage.

If you treat them before they cause inflammation in the lungs.

Golden Time is three weeks. If you miss the golden time, you can be dangerous.

​

If you have any symptoms of cold or pneumonia, it is necessary to go to the clinic for COVID-19 immediately.

​

I wish we could think about COVID-19 together.

​

1. First Occurrence Report

​

The research team, which includes medical staff at Jinintan Hospital in Wuhan, reported on Dec. 1, 2019, in a paper published in the Lancet,

the British medical journal on Jan. 24, 2020.

​

On January 10, 2020, Wuhan health Authority officially announced the first death from COVID-19

2. How about an infection test?

​

Since January 31, Korea has conducted "Real Time Polymerase Chain Reaction," which has increased the speed and convenience of testing, at 18 health and environment research institutes nationwide, and will be available at front-line medical sites from February 4. 

​

The Pan coronavirus test took one to two days to screen all COVID-19 first, followed by sequencing analysis and then determining COVID-19

​

The new test method, however, is a specialized testing system that checks for COVID-19 infections at a single time, allowing results to be checked within six hours. 

​

3. Treatment of COVID-19 (Korea)

​

Infectious disease experts in Korea agreed on Feb. 13 to administer antiviral drugs to patients with COVID-19 infections if they have underlying diseases, senior citizens or severe diseases. 

​

On the other hand, it was determined that if a patient is mild or young, or 10 days after the outbreak, the symptoms will improve without taking antiviral drugs. 

​

COVID-19 Central Clinical TF (Task Force) announced its "COVID-19 Treatment Principles."

This principle is the country's first treatment guideline for patients with COVID-19.

​

"We have confirmed that COVID-19 Central Clinical TF, which combines clinical characteristics so far, often improves on its own without special treatment when young and healthy," said Kim Kang-rip, deputy director of the Central Accident Control Headquarters.

​

He added, "If you are old or have a underlying disease, you need to actively use antiviral drugs, but all patients currently being treated are good."

​

The TF has proposed giving two pills a day, twice a day, for specific antiviral treatments. 

​

You can use chloroquine and hydroxychloroquine, anti-malaria drug.

In Korea, hydroxychloroquin is used as anti-malaria drug.

​

However, the TF explains that it should be careful to administer AIDS drugs and anti-malaria drug together because side effects such as arrhythmia.

​

The TF added, "There is no reason to say that the combination of calletra and chloroquin (or hydroxychloroquin) is superior to solo therapy."

​

They also added, "The antiviral treatment period is appropriate for about 7 to 10 days, and it can be helpful to administer drugs as soon as possible." 

​

4. Why is it spreading so fast? 

​

"It's because of the 'generation'," he said. "The generation period is the time before the first patient creates a secondary patient and the second patient creates a tertiary patient, and the shorter this generation, the faster the epidemic tends to spread."

​

They say that the short generation period will have a relatively large impact.

​

5. The incubation period of COVID-19

​

The incubation period of COVID-19 could reach up to 24 days, according to a study.

​

The incubation period of COVID-19 is 0-24. The median incubation period measured by the researchers is 3.0 days.

​

6. Super-spreaders of COVID-19

​

The possibility of a "Super-spreaders of COVID-19" presence was also mentioned. "Super-spreaders of COVID-19" means host that infects more secondary contact than regular infected.

The existence of Super-spreaders means that COVID-19 is more contagious.

​

7. Symptoms

​

The most common symptoms of COVID-19 were fever (87.9%) and cough (67.7%). However, only 43.8% showed symptoms of fever during treatment. Some patients had diarrhea (3.7%) and vomiting (5.0%).

8. What's the difference from influenza?

​

Both COVID-19 and the flu are viral diseases that cause respiratory symptoms.

However, they show different characteristics in the diagnosis method and different virus that causes the disease. 

​

COVID-19 is a disease caused by a new kind of coronavirus that was initially reported. 

​

If you have a fever and cough in the beginning, and the symptoms worsen, you will see pneumonia. So far COVID-19

is highly contagious.

In the case of influenza virus, fever rises by 38 degrees and muscle pain occurs. The fatality rate of the flu is lower than that of COVID-19. 

​

According to a research institute affiliated with the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, unlike COVID-19 there are treatments and vaccines that can be managed in the flu.

​

9. Air spread?

​

Air spread refers to a virus floating in the air and being infected with a respiratory tract when another person inhales air.

Tuberculosis, measles, and hydrocephalus are among the most common viruses using air spread

When an infected person coughs or sneezes, viruses and bacteria are mixed in small drops of water such as saliva and enter other people's mouths and noses and become infected. 

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It is known that COVID-19, flu

MERS which is infected people occurred in 2015, are spreading through the nasal mucus.

It is known that COVID-19 are transmitted within 2 meters

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Experts, however, warn that the risk of infection cannot be determined to be in 2 meters, saying that air conditioners and others can spread much farther if they are released into the air after sucking in the virus. 

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10. Asymptotic infection

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It is possible for an asymptotic patient to infect others.

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Unlike SARS, which has a incubation period of two to seven days, and MERS, which has a incubation period of five days, COVID-19 is known to represent a incubation period of up to 24 days. 

For this reason, Chinese health authorities have raised the possibility of an asymptotic infection, and the WHO has expressed concern about it. 

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Although the infected person has symptoms, it is still possible that they could not realize it due to its slight degree. 

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11. Using AIDS drugs. Why?

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Attention is being paid to whether AIDS drugs can be an alternative to COVID-19 treatment. 

Thailand's Health Ministry said on Feb. 2 that a 71-year-old Chinese woman with COVID-19 was treated with a mixture of antiviral drugs from HIV, an AIDS virus. 

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The drugs given to women are Litonavir and Lopinavir (Calletra), which are used to treat AIDS, and Oseltamivir (Tamiflu), which is used to treat the flu.

Earlier reports said that China is also administering calletra to patients with COVID-19.

The reason why AIDS drugs are used is that they can prevent the spread of viruses. 

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Proteinase is essential for the growth of coronavirus, and the AIDS drug, Calletra, inhibits the proteinase to prevent the virus from proliferating.