#I counted them all and it’s 19 packets

[mando-abs]

I’m just gonna go on ahead and remove my hiatus post from the top. It’s been so long you guys 🥹🥹 I’ve missed you. I’ve missed this.

I’m still not out of the woods with my England trip yet. I just spent a full day writing journals (it’s a graduation requirement, really blows). I’ve still got to get reimbursed by travel insurance for having to stay an extra week. I’m still recovering from COVID. I am still negative, but I can fully shake off the cough. My body is just now starting to relax and release tension so my whole body hurts at the moment 😅👍🏻 That and I’m still jetlagged! I keep getting up at 7AM despite staying up late in attempts to get my sleep back on schedule.

Um. So, I don’t really feel like telling you all everything I did because I’ve had to do this multiple times already, and also, it’s a little traumatic for me right now 😅 But here’s some pictures and highlights below the cut (also, if you have any questions, please please please send them my way):

Betty’s Tea Room in York - Had a rough time in York, but afternoon tea here was delightful. People always say “do afternoon tea when you’re in England” and you’re like “ok, whatever grandma.” But I’m telling you, go do afternoon tea. It’s looks cliche but I promise it’s worth it.

Fountains Abbey at Fountains, Ripon: I saw many ruins this trip, but this was the best. Beautiful property. Reminded me of Legend of Zelda: BOTW lol

Dove’s Cottage (Wordsworth) and Beatrix Potter’s Cottage: The picture above is from Beatrix Potter’s Cottage but I didn’t expect to love the cottages so much! They were so cute! Also if you like cottagecore, I recommend you read Dorothy Wordsworth’s journals. Reading that and then seeing her cottage was awesome. Also, I never read Potter, but her cottage was my favorite out of the two. Just so nice. Want to escape to live in a cottage for a while like Dorothy did. Sigh

This view of the lakes from John Ruskin’s home: The Lakes District was stunning. Very beautiful. And very green! This was the best garden I saw on my trip (and trust me, there were many). Couldn’t care about Ruskin’s house tho 😂

Lyme Hall - This was another shocker too. Rich people have way too much time on their hands 😂 This is a proper mansion. So many details everywhere. A Little stuffy, but the smells of years gone by? mmmmmm. Could easily get lost in there. Wish I had time to look through it all. Also, it was too cold to look at the grounds here.

Henry the 6th Part 2 - Rebellion at the Royal Shakespeare Theater: Wild and yet so professional. Somehow managed to make one of Shakespeare’s least look like one of the best. The BSL interpreter was AMAZING and signed the entire performance. Lots of decapitations in this one. Brownie points if you know who the man depicted above is

Nothing in Oxford. You know what you did. (Jk I did attend a service at Holy Trinity Church. It was very nice and the people there were so polite. But otherwise, I had a rough time in Oxford)

The British Library in London: I mean, need I say more? We looked at their treasure exhibit. Saw 1 of 4 remaining Gutenberg Bibles (you know, the first book printed…like ever). The Magna Carta. This is big for me but I saw the oldest completed New Testament from like the 4th century, all in it’s original Greek. Mind blowing. But yeah. Just really old books.

St. Paul’s Cathedral in London: Wow wow wow wow wow wow wow. Such a big cathedral. The mosaics all over the ceilings?!?!?! Way more statues than I thought there were gonna be. I was really impressed. Couldn’t stop singing Feed the Birds from Mary Poppins the whole time tho hahaha

Much Ado About Nothing at the Globe Theater in London: The best live theater experience I’ve ever had in my life. I don’t think it can ever be topped. But I’m down to be proven wrong. (Also, hi!!! Don’t be fooled by my smile. I was very sick in this photo.)

The Paddington movies while in quarantine:

I really bonded with Paddington Bear yall. Poor little bear trying to make his way in London…missing home but trying his best. Javi Gutierrez was right, Paddington does want you to become a better person 😂 (but I loved the first movie more). So nice of them to make the announcement of the 3rd movie right after I watched them.

[the1975attheirverybest]

Video Games

A/N: Based on this request:

I'd like angst to soft Matty if you could 🥺 Like he is angry at the beginning and scary, but she Has a terrible day, something terrible happened that he didn't know, when he finds out he is really sorry and soft ect <3 idk about the plot just something like this only if you feel like it of course

Warnings: Angst to fluff

---

Jamie and George exchanged a look. A look that Matty knew very well. A look that said "do you wanna handle this, or should I?" He rolled his eyes. "don't patronize me!"

Jamie decided that this fell under his job title. "Matty-"

"I just feel like you guys aren't listening." Matty repeated the same sentence he'd been saying in various iterations for the last twenty minutes.

"We're listening, mate" Adam spoke, from the far corner of the room, in a conciliatory tone.

"Let's put it to a vote." Jamie looked around the room for the guys' support.

"We don't do that, Jamie-"

"You don't do that for band stuff. This is label stuff, Matty."

"Well, then, the only people who should be voting on this are me, you, and George. We're the co-producers and you're gonna sort it out." Matty's voiced betrayed his emotional state a bit more than he would've liked.

Ross and Adam nodded, putting their hands up in surrender to assure him that they were no threat to this democratic process. They knew that Matty wasn't trying to exclude them, he was just simplifying matters, hoping that it was him and George against Jamie. He was about to find out how wrong he was.

"Alright," Jamie declared. "By show of hands, all in favor of moving with this contract today?"

Matty watched in shock as George's hand went up.

"George! What the fuck is the matter-"

"Matty, shut the fuck up and listen for a second!" George, finally having had enough, interrupted him. "I know you want to produce their record.

"And you don't?"

"Mate, I said shut the fuck up. Listen, I would love to work with them. They seem cool and fresh and I think they'd bring a lot to the table sonically. But, you're thinking like a producer right now-"

"How else am I supposed to think when production-"

"Like an artist, Matty! Like the frontman of the 1975 like around 2013."

Matty was finally all out of words, he simply crossed his brows, slowly realizing George's point.

"remember when all these labels suddenly wanted to work with us? and they'd come to us with offers and contracts, and what would you say to them?"

"To go fuck themselves."

"Exactly. Put yourself in these young kids' shoes, man. They're 19 and 20, or whatever. They want to make good music, they're excited. And they want to protect their artistic identity. If they need our help, they'll ask for it."

Matty was silent for a long minute while George and Jamie's eyes watched his body loosen, gradually. "Whatever," he finally mumbled, waving them off dismissively. "Do what you want" He got out of his seat heading straight to the door.

"Matty, where're you going? we need your signature."

"Smoke."

Jamie watched Matty leave with his cigarette packet and his lighter still on the table. "bro-" he attempted to call after him. "He's not really going for a smoke, is he?"

George smiled. "It's all good. I'll sign on his behalf."

***

In the parking lot, Matty searched the pockets of his jacket for a lighter and a pack of cigarettes and realized he'd left them upstairs. "fuck's shakes." he muttered to himself, unlocking the car door and driving to the nearest smoke shop.

As he put out the end of his cigarette on the sidewalk, he spotted a coffee shop across the street and made his way over for a cup of coffee and a pastry that he could count as lunch. He'd hardly made it out of the shop, though, before a flustered guy, rushing from the other side of the street ran straight into him and spilled the piping hot cup of coffee all over Matty's shirt, causing him to drop his "lunch"

"FUCK ME!" Matty yelled out instantly taking off his leather jacket and unbuttoning his short to prevent any burns. "Thanks, bro! Really fuckin polite of you" he called after the guy who didn't even stop for an apology.In his haste to undress in the middle of the street to avoid a visit to the hospital, Matty hadn't realized that the phone in his hand had absorbed some of the splash, as well.

He searched the back of his car for a gym bag, an old tee, anything at all that he could put on for the rest of the day, but there was no clothing to be found anywhere. He rested his head on the steering wheel, mumbling a string of profanities to let out some of his frustration. He could really use a drink right now. Maybe something to eat, too. Showing up at a bar without a shirt on might not be the best idea, though. He needed to head home immediately. Music is probably the only thing that would help in this moment. So, he dug into his pocket to retrieve his phone and was stunned to see that it was effectively fried.

"FUUUCCCKKKK!!!" He screamed out in the confines of his car.

***

Matty let out a long, drawn out sigh as he walked into his home, pushing the door shut behind him and turning the lights on in the entry way.

"Oh thank god!"

His eyes had barely adjusted to the light when he saw the outlines of her silhouette before she'd lunged forward and hugged him tightly.

"I- I'm so glad you're home." She traced down the sides of his body as if to make sure all the pieces were in place. And once she'd made he wasn't looking like he'd been in mortal danger, her anger set in. "Where the fuck have you been??? It's late! Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"N-no, actually, cuz I-"

"I called your phone. Over and over! It kept going to voicemail!"

"Yes, well, see-"

"So, then, I called the DH, and you weren't there either! Talked to George, too. He said they hadn't seen you since you left for a smoke at 11 am! I was terrified that something'd happened to you."

Her high-pitched, endless admonishments were giving him a headache. His heart was racing. He felt claustrophobic. Like she'd trapped him into a box of her disappointment. She wasn't even letting him get a word in. To explain, to tell her about the day that he'd had. that he hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. That he'd been driving around without a GPS, trying to find someone who'd fix his phone in less than 24 hours. She hadn't even brought up his missing shirt yet. he just needs a fuckin minute to breathe.

He left her there, standing in the entryway, yelling at the place he was standing, and walked into the living room.

"Matty, I'm talking to you!"

He walked over to the TV station, turning on the screen and reaching for the playstation controllers.

"Are you fuckin kidding me right now???" she shook her head in disbelief. "Why are you half naked? Where's your shirt? where have you been all day and why is your phone off? why haven't the guys heard from you? They said they were waiting on you to show up at-"

"Shut the fuck up, darlin, would ya? Please. shut up for one fuckin second and leave me the fuck alone!"

She was stunned into silence. His words echoed through the room, bouncing off the walls and lingering in the air. "w-what did you just say to me?" she whispered.

"I said shut the fuck up, alright? I'm here, aren't I? I'm home, so, obviously, I'm fine."

She shook her head, a laugh of disbelief leaving her lips. "You might be here, but...you're obviously not fine..."

"Well, I just don't want to talk about it, okay? I don't want to talk. I just- don't!"

silently, she walked away from him, heading up the stairs and into the guest bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

Alone in the living room, Matty tossed the controller onto the couch and punched a throw pillow, tears running down his face.

***

She had no idea how long it'd been since she'd laid in the guest bed or how long she'd cried in the dark before eventually falling asleep. But she awoke to the sound of the door creaking open. From the lights in the hallway, she could see the outlines of Matty's curls and face, peering in.

"May I- umm" he was too embarrassed to look her in the eyes.

"Come in, Matty." she smiled, sitting up in the bed to make room for him.

As he walked in, she realized he'd brought something with him. She reached over to the nightstand and turned the lamp on. She could now see that he'd changed into a band tee and some joggers, and that he appeared to be holding the playstation in his hands.

He set the wires, controllers, and games on the bed and climbed on next to her.

"I'm so sorry, my love." Matty's hand reached for her face and caressed her cheek. "I'm so sorry. I'm a dickhead. A monster. I never should've- I- never should've raised my voice. Never should've been cruel and unkind. I- you don't deserve the way that I treated you."

"You're right." she simply said, placing her hand over his.

"Matty, what's going on?"

"N-nothin,' just- having a weird day. Which isn't an excuse to speak to you like I did. I'm awful. I know."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"No, not really. Not right now. My head feels fucked up still. But I know what I did was wrong, and I want to apologize."

"No, no. Not right now, Matty." Her tone was firm, but the gentle touch to his face made him melt. "When you're ready, later, once we've talked it through, you can apologize properly. We can talk it out. Right now...Let's just....sit here together, yeah?"

He nodded, feeling ashamed but grateful.

"what's all this?" she pointed to the playstation.

"Video games. Wanna play with me?"

She chuckled, he heart softening towards him already. "Sure, show me what our options are."

[aerialworms-art]

I've been wanting to do hourly comic day for ages, finally remembered (at 00:01 on 2nd feb), and here we are! I had a lot of fun with this!

Featuring (in order of appearance) my child Fluffy, Narcissus the brachycephalic cat, Prince the sentient mop dog, and Cassie the-not-so-fluffy-but-also-black cat. And @salty-lich-queen makes an appearance from 19:00-23:00!

I've put a transcript of all the text under the cut cause I was focused on sticking to the hourly thing and forgot about nice lettering 😅

Transcript:

[Page 1]

02/02/2024 (definitely hourly comics day)

00:00-01:00

Me: Ooh, look, hourly comics! There's a lot of these. When is it again?

Search bar: When is hourly comics day? Search results: 1st Feb hourly comics day Me: Aw, fuck.

Me, thinking: No-one will mind if I do it today instead, right? Arrow pointing at me: Going to get snack Arrow pointing at tinsel: Tinsel from 4 Xmas ago Arrow pointing at toy snakes: Snakes from Halloween

Caption: [Int. - Bedroom]

Sweet packet: SWEETS

Me: Oh! Fluffy, thinking: For me? Caption: A surprise kitty!

01:00-02:00

Me, thinking: WTF is wrong with this guy? Caption: Watching Dungeon Meshi for the first time!

Arrow pointing at me: Brushing teeth

Fluffy, thinking: I CRAVE WOTER

02:00-??:??

Caption: Thinkin' bout those old men <3

11:00-12:00

Me: UUUUUUUUGH

12:00-13:00

Me: come... closer...

Me: Time to get up! Fluffy, thinking: Bye!

Me: Actually, I'll just draw some comics first Fluffy, thinking: Oh?

Caption: A few minutes later... Me: Thank you for keeping my foot warm Fluffy, thinking: It's free real estate

Arrow pointing at my dad: My dad My dad: I keep losing books... My dad: Like this Ian Banks one - Me: Oh! The one that's been in the loo for a week?

My dad: AHA! Caption: (yes, it was that one)

13:00-14:00

Caption: Watching more Dungeon Meshi Me/my tea: sluuurp

Me, singing: VOULEZ VOUS! AHA! TAKE ME NOW OR LEAVE Caption: shower ABBA time!

Caption: Back in the bedroom... Me, singing: -DANCE WITH YOU HONEY! IF YOU THINK IT'S FUNNY! DOES YA MOTHER KNOW THAT

Fluffy, thinking: I'm out.

14:00-15:00

Title: The Exciting Adventures of Artie and Fluffy: Leaving the house!

Me: C'mon then! Fluffy: Mow! Mrow! Cat count: 1

Neighbour: Oh! Hello! Cat count: 1

[Page 2]

Me and the neighbour: Small talk Cat count: 1 Dog count: 1

Me: Here, I'll hold her, you go past Fluffy, thinking: DIE Arrow pointing at dog: Oblivious Cat count: 1 Dog count: 1

Me: Hi buddy! Cat count: 2 Dog count: 1

Narcissus, thinking: Friend or Foe? Arrow pointing at Fluffy: Oblivious Cat count: 2 Dog count: 1

Caption: We carried on... Me: Oh! Hello! Cat count: 2 Dog count: 1

Cat count: 2 Dog count: 2!

Fancy lettering: PRINCE! Cat count: 2 Dog count: AWWW

Cat count: 2 Dog count: 2

Cat count: ? Dog count: 2

Cat count: 3! Dog count: 2

Me: Uh oh

Fluffy, thinking: BOO!

Cassie, landing on Prince's head: DONK!

Me: Dude, you ok? Prince, thinking: Look! I can catch my tail!

14:30-15:30

Fluffy, thinking: That's not how I look. Caption: Whoops, spent an hour on this! Cat counter: 3 Dog counter: 3 (one went past while drawing)

15:30-16:00

Me, thinking: Alas, we must part, my love! Fluffy, thinking: What was that noise? Cat counter: 3 Dog counter: 3

Arrow pointing at Prince: Prince again! coming back from school Cat count: 3 Dog count: 7

Me: At last! Arrow pointing at people in the bushes: Three shady people in the bushes (I didn't ask)

Library: Library

16:00-17:00

PLOTTING A GRAPHIC NOVEL

17:00-19:00

Whatsapp contact name: Mum Me, texting: (15:35) Swim after work? Me: (16:54) Missed call Me: (16:59) Heading to pool now come join me! Mum: On my way! (17:04) Cat count: 3 Dog count: 10+??

Police car: POLICE ILOP Me: oo er...

Arrow pointing at a cop: Was saying something about a break-in :S Arrow pointing at cop holding a bag: Stolen goods? Drugs? Arrow pointing at fence behind them: My old infant school

[Page 3]

17:00-19:00 cont.

Scribbled out drawing: IGNORE THIS

Me, thinking: I'm no ordinary girl~

(action) Mum: WAVE! (action) Me: WAVE!

19:00-23:00

My laptop screen: UPERNATURAL

23:00-00:00

Arrow pointing at my chair: Ergonomic chair for back pain Me, thinking: What am I doing?

Me, thinking: Ah, yes. Tumblr logo: t Tumblr post: ~~~~~~DC COMICS Me, thinking: Thinkin' bout those old men again <3

Me: Time for bed!

Fluffy, thinking: Time for FOOD.

[planetkiimchi]

celebrating lunar new year | x.dj

chinese title: 过年 (guò nián). read the chinese version here!

featuring: childhood friend!xiaojun x hendery’s younger sister!reader (all dialogue is in cantonese)

summary — xiao dejun completely lost contact with you, his first love, when he moved to korea to become a trainee. this year, he's back in china to receive an award, and he sends a red packet to you with your brother as a messenger, with a note inside telling you where to meet him. when you see him again, you realise nothing and everything has changed, all at once.

word count: 1556 words

author's note: happy lunar new year! this is my first time writing a piece in chinese (the piece was originally written in chinese and then translated to english), so if there are any weird grammar quirks please forgive me 🙏 wishing you good health and smooth sailing ahead! 🧧

note 2: also this was based off the tencent entertainment awards but i realised uhh hendery wasn’t there ?? it was winwin all along ?? anyway no way im changing this after writing it so pretend hendery was there instead of ww

if you liked it, REBLOG it.

The door creaks open, and you hear someone carefully locking it, and the sound of shoes shuffling on the floor. It's already midnight, how could there be guests coming over? you wonder. You get out of your bedroom, and see that the "guest" is, as a matter of fact, your beloved brother.

"You're finally home!" you cry out, collapsing into your older brother's arms in unspeakable happiness. Hendery has left China to be an idol for more than eight years now, and besides Lunar New Year, he's usually too busy with work to come home to visit. Due to the COVID-19 pandemic, the last time he came back to China was three years ago.

He rubs your back comfortingly, ruffling your hair. "Bet you weren't expecting me, huh?"

You nod. "Did you tell Ba and Ma that you were coming home? If they had known, they definitely would have insisted on fetching you from the airport."

Hendery smiles softly. "Yeah, I knew they'd do that, so I didn't tell them. I was planning to give them a surprise this time."

Watching his familiar expression, you find that you've missed your brother. You've missed his mischievous, laugh-inducing antics, and the times when he's nicer to you as well. You really wish he could stay a little longer.

"Actually..." Hendery hesitates for a bit, and you feel your heart plummet from the top floor of the building as you watch him anxiously. What on earth could have made him come home so suddenly, at such a late hour?

"Actually, I have to leave again quite early tomorrow morning. There's no way I can come with you to visit our relatives. I've been very busy with work lately, and this time, I'm in China to receive an award, not for a holiday. Tell Ba and Ma 'Happy New Year' for me, okay?"

You can't hide your disappointment, and a few tears silently roll down your cheeks.

"Okay," you say, nodding your head determinedly. Hendery has come home, this in itself is a good thing, you tell yourself. Don't cry!

Hendery hugs you tightly. "I'll sleep in the living room tonight. If you don't see me in the morning, you'll know I've left for work."

"Then... when will you come back again?"

"I don't know yet. But I promise I'll come back to visit you as soon as possible, alright?"

You raise your pinky finger. "Promise?"

He nods assuredly, hooking his pinky with yours. "Promise."

—

The next day, you wake up early on purpose. At 3.30 am in the morning, you blink the sleep away from your eyes, slowly sitting up in your bed. Your bedroom is as dark as ink, without a single sliver of light. You hear a sound coming from outside your door, informing you that your brother has just awoken as well. You quickly get dressed, getting out of your room.

Hendery doesn't dare to use the flashlight on his phone to shine light on his luggage as he rummages through it, clearly looking for something.

"What are you looking for?" you ask curiously.

"My toothbrush, of course! What else could I be looking for?"

You sigh in exasperation. "Men." You kneel down next to him, turning his shoulders towards the toilet as you suggest that he goes to change first. At the same time, you'll help him look for his toothbrush, and he can just use the toothpaste you have in your house.

"Sure." With this singular syllable, Hendery takes his clothes to the toilet to get changed.

You roll your eyes, and easily find Hendery’s toothbrush in his luggage. After he’s brushed his teeth, he runs his hand through his hair, smoothing it down. He’s packed his things and is ready to go when his eyes widen, having just remembered something.

“Oh, right, Dejun said to give you this.” Hendery hands you a red packet. “I told him not to, but he insisted, so I have no choice but to give you one as well.” He places yet another red packet on your palm.

“Okay. Please thank him for me.”

“Then… Wishing you good health and success. Take care of yourself, you hear me?”

“You too,” you tell him. It’s always been Hendery that doesn’t sleep enough, yet he’s always the one reminding you to take care of yourself whenever he sees you. Hendery doesn’t know how to take care of himself, but he cares for everyone else without fail.

Once he’s left, you impatiently open the red packet. But what interests you isn’t the sum of money inside it, rather, it’s the note that’s left inside the red packet. Seeing the neat, even script, you immediately recognise it as Dejun’s handwriting. Your name is written on one side of the paper, and there’s writing on the other side.

I’m finally back in China. Missed me? Hendery said he’d give this red packet to you, so I believe today should be the day we’re receiving a prize. I’d like to invite you to come. The address is written below. If anyone asks, probably my manager, tell him I was the one that invited you. See you soon!

You hesitate for a second, but the decision isn’t hard to make. There can’t be any unimaginable consequences, anyway, right?

—

You’ve never known what regret is. Your entire life is built upon decisions you’ve made by yourself, and your brother has always told you not to regret your choices. If you regret something that you’ve done before, then you shouldn’t have done it in the first place. You’ve lived by these words ever since he first said them to you.

But when you see Dejun again after all those years, you think you finally know what the word “regret” entails.

He’s taller than you, and he’s grown more muscular as well. Despite this, his resplendent smile and mellifluous voice hasn’t changed at all. Your name falls from his lips, full of questions, fear buried in the dulcet tones of his voice.

You freeze, staring at him blankly. When you’ve recovered, you smile tentatively, trying to dissipate the tension in the air. “Dejun-kor.”

“Happy New Year,” he offers.

“You too.”

“Long time no see, you’ve changed plenty.”

“Long time no see. You… haven’t changed one bit.” His cheeks flush at your words, eyes lighting up, and he takes two large steps towards you, enveloping you in a warm embrace.

Suddenly, you see Hendery’s silhouette. You push Dejun away, as if scalded by his touch.

“Little fool! What are you doing here?” You cast a frantic glance at Dejun, mouth opening and closing like a fish in water, but no sound escapes your lips. How should you explain this? 

“I asked her to come.” Dejun’s words turn Hendery’s attention from you to himself, and Hendery’s gaze turns from amused to stormy.

He roughly grabs Dejun by the collar. Dejun flails in his grasp, fighting to pry himself from Hendery’s strong grasp. “What are you doing? It’s not like that! I just invited to come watch our awards ceremony. I didn’t do anything to her!”

Hendery’s expression remains upset, steam billowing from his ears, but he lets go of Dejun. He doesn’t even look at you when he asks, “Is he telling the truth?”

“Yes. You shouldn’t make a racket here, there’re too many people around. Why don’t you talk it out without fighting?” You try to suggest.

Hendery takes a deep, long breath. He glares at Dejun, spitting out the words, “Fine. Go on, what were you trying to do?”

“I just wanted to see her again. She may be your sister, but she was—is—also my friend. Since none of us is spending the new year with our family, I wanted to at least spend it with someone aside from just ourselves. Is there anything wrong with me inviting her to come watch us?”

Hendery may be rash and hot-tempered, but he’s not unreasonable. He knows that what Dejun is saying makes sense, so he says nothing, storming off unhappily. Dejun turns towards you with a sheepish look on his face, about to apologise, when you cut him off.

You pat his shoulder comfortingly, saying, “It’s not your fault. Hendery’s just like that.” Before he can respond, you catch sight of Kun’s outstretched hand, and take it, introducing yourself.

“Sorry, we have to rush off. It’s almost our turn to go onstage. See you later!” He says, and you wave at their disappearing backs.

—

When you woke up that morning, you never would have thought that today would go the way that it went. You were so grateful that you were able to meet Xiaojun and Kun, not to mention being able to have a reunion dinner with them. Sitting in front of that table, watching them crack unintentional jokes as they happily ate their food, you found that you enjoyed it very much.

Kun was the first to stand and say goodbye to you, followed by your brother. Dejun was last, holding you close to him as he whispered in your ear. “When I saw that you had come, I felt indescribably happy. If there’s ever a chance, I’d really like to spend another Lunar New Year with you.”

His words rendered you speechless, unable to do anything but tightly hug him, whispering “thank you” over and over again.

if you liked it, REBLOG it.

[mad-maximoff]

𝙎𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙮 𝙁𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙆𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙧

Oscar Isaac!DetectiveXReader

(I’m uploading the first chapter of this new series here and if you like it I’ll keep posting it! If not than it’ll stay on Wattpad🤭)

Summary: For 5 years, there's been a serial killer on the loose in New York. Homicide detective Oscar Isaac has been hunting this guy down since then. He is haunted by the female victims this animal puts in his path. He has the help of Cherry, a prostitute working the street. Can Cherry help Oscar catch the killer? Or will the killer consume Oscar?

Warnings: Language, talks abt murder (this chapt isn't spicy yet;))

Word Count: 1,043

18 deaths in 5 years. I've been the lead Detective on the case since the first murder took place. All women. 9 of them were normal women off the street. 9 were hookers. Still innocent women. No matter their profession. It's been eating me alive.

"Ey yo hombre? Tienes gasolina eh?" I walked out of the bodega on 5th Ave in the Bronx listening to two guys conversation. "Compra gasolina, te refieres a hierba. Vamos a tener un problema." I took the first bite of my breakfast sandwich flashing my badge at the gentlemen who darted when I took another step. "Pollos!" I wanted action, they fled. Too many guys lean on my black beauty, sure, a 67' Impala is snazzy. You never anything like it around New York. My cases have been piling up at the station. All the same. Someone's mom, daughter, or friend goes missing. Then we find them in the alley. It's his same MO. The women are cut in pieces. Left arm gone, a part of their ribcage, and the cherry on top. The killer cuts a smiley face on the victim's face. Slits their eyes vertically and slices ear to ear across their lips. Reason's why we call him The Smiley Face Killer. A mouthful but it serves its purpose.

I arrived at the station as a rookie told me they needed me down at the morgue. "Jesus Sánchez, what do they get for me?" I threw my coat over my chair at my desk, adjusting my belt. "Another one. Number 19."

"For fucksakes!"

·:*¨༺ ♱ ☠︎ ♱ ༻¨*:·.

"Ey! How's my homie huh?" My closest and dearest friend Detective Pedro Pascal met me at the stairs. "Qué Pasa! The morgue still needing me?" I cocked my head behind his to see the morgue down behind us. "Nah, man! I already debriefed with the nerds in the freezer. Chick looked better in a paper bag." He joked hitting me with the case file in my chest. "Jesus man, have some compassion. Someone was murdered again." The slab to the chest winded me for a minute. I'll never admit he's stronger than me, but fuck did that hurt. "Oscar, come on. We have a really traumatizing career. We need to make light some days. Speaking of, are you going to the bar tonight? My treat. Bravest or McSorleys?" Pedro threw his arm around my neck as we both exited the morgue from the stairs.

"Nah, man. I'm good tonight, thanks for the offer though. I don't want to rub elbows with trigger-happy rookies. I'm up to my neck in paperwork this Smiley Face killer's gonna drown me."

"Fuck man...don't stress. Anyway, the girl lying on the slab had a lot of new info."

"Whatda you mean Pedro? New info?"

"Yeah, well, the chief said Smiley only hunts women in Manhattan, but most of the women were near the Lower East Side. Red light district."

"Hookers paradise, but what about the other women? You know? The non-prostitutes?"

"In kilometre radius of the Red Light. Besides, the two last calls the victim Rose called were Cate and Cherry."

"Jesus Christ, I know women of the night don't like to use their real names but damn! It's going to be like finding a needle in a haystack!" We both made it back to our desks and I slumped in my chair. I fidgeted in the pocket of my jacket to find my packet of cigarettes. I booted up my laptop to write all the information in the case file under this sick serial killer's hefty file. The question remains.

Is he or she after women because they have a deep-seated hatred for women? Prostitutes?

Pedro and I worked late into the night. Pedro was making calls. I wrote down the contacts in the newest victim's phone. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, it comes with the territory. Some tough phone calls home. With everything I do under this badge, calling a victim's family is the hardest. Screaming moms, muffled fathers' tears, angry siblings. You are either loved or feared. However, that isn't the reason I became a cop at first. I did it to somehow make a difference. It's cheesy. Every rookie says the same. To make their city and town better. Once you see the things I did you don't care if your doing the right thing. You just make sure you come home in one piece.

"So...Pedro! I searched up this phone number and this Cate number is linked to the red light district's top nightclub." I finished the last puff of my cigarette flicking the butt in my trash bin.

"Oh shit! Echo?" Pedro swiveled his chair chuckling to himself. "Haha! Where do you party? No. The Core."

"Oh hell no! That place is diamond tier man, you can't even get in the door unless you're screwing one of their girls."

"So is your mom available? I need to get in?" The eruption of laughter echoed throughout the station. Pedro's jaw flung open hitting his desk. "Haha! Go to hell! I'm just saying, the chick who owns the joint won't let cops in. Let alone a detective. The woman is disfigured. Cate Blanchett is terrifying." I turned my chair to back up my shit and call it a night. "Cate Blanchett? Where in the hell have I heard the name somewhere.." I whisked my coat off my chair. "Some of those young hookers we booked a couple of weeks ago spoke of Cate. Maybe Rose was one of her girls."

"So what is she a pimp?"

"I have no clue, Detective Isaac. Go home. You need the sleep."

"Uh-huh, that's what I'm doing tonight. Noche." I lit another cigarette pulling the door wide open.

"Buenas noches!"

There is only one person left on Rose's contacts. Cherry. I'll have to haul my ass to the red light district just to find this chick. This Cherry is one chick that will be hard to find. One drink might help me think of my game plan tomorrow.

[nightscapepersona]

Fly V to the Moon - Ch. 19

“The one where he meets her with hotteok at the gates”

Hello again! I’m sorry that I’ve disappeared! In truth, I’ve been dealing with some unexpected and difficult personal matters. As much as writing this little world brings me life, the energy and motivation was just not here. Anyways... I’m back! Aaaaand... here is part 1 of the highly-anticipated date! Hope you enjoy! Leave a like if you enjoy it... it genuinely means a lot! :)

Pairing: Taehyung x OFC

Genre: Fluff, Idol AU, Coffee Shop AU, Café Singer OFC, Slow Burn

Warnings: Light swearing, but it’s all for banter. Again, this is fluff.

Word count: 1.6k (Super short chapters, so there will be a lot of chapters.)

Recommended Songs: Here Comes the Sun (Bossa Nova cover)  — covered by Sarah Menescal; Golden  — covered by Jamie Lancaster

Summary: She’s a foreign elementary school teacher by day, a charming singer by night. Taehyung and company discover her at a small garden jazz café where she had a gig one night, only to find out from Jin that she was an arts teacher at a local school in Seoul — Jin's nephew and niece’s teacher, in fact. Taehyung finds himself on a surprise adventure to the moon.

✻  ✻  ✻

Fly V to the Moon — by Nightscape Persona

Chapter 19: “The one where he meets her with hotteok at the gates”

Nothing prepared her for the view as soon as she got off the cab.

Standing right outside on the sidewalk, looking like a giant fluffy bearman was Taehyung. Brown, fuzzy earmuffs on. Long, posh brown coat on. Face tiny amid the drapes of his dark brown scarf. What made her heart jiggle, however, was that he was holding one brown wrapping of a mysterious snack in each hand, looking at her with a tiny smile under the sunlight.

“Hello,” he beamed, as she walked closer.

“Hello,” she beamed back, walking closer.

The morning sun bounced off the snow all around them. Not quite as resplancently as their foolish beaming faces, though. Faces of this-is-really-happening. 

She eyed the brown packets clutched by his un-mittened hands (she found it absolutely adorable how his long fingers seemed so tiny as they poked through the gloves’ finger holes). They looked suspiciously like hotteok from the stands scattered all over the city.

Now that she was closer to the bear-like tall figure in the snowy sidewalk that was Taehyung, it definitely smelled like hotteok too.

Just. Mouthwatering.

The hotteok, of course.

She finally came front to front with him.

And… they stood there for a bit. Looking at each other. Quite awkwardly. Quite foolishly. Like bumbling bumblebees. If you will.

His eyes were so brown and sweet. Warm. Deep.

But they were making her nervous. So she gestured towards his hands.

“Are these…?”

He came into himself.

“Oh!”

He stretched out one brown package towards her, cheeks flushing.

“For you.”

Her heart fluttered.

“Thank you. You shouldn’t have.”

She grabbed it with her mittened hands.

“Nonsense. It’s—”

“—Hotteok!”

She hummed, and pretended to sniff it.

“Perfect for this cold.”

He smiled at her. Still conspicuously flushed.

“I whole-heartedly agree.”

He took a bite of his own.

“But it’s also getting cold, so. You should start eating.”

“Say no more.”

They giggled.

She noticed tiny gleams in his pupils.

Like stars.

A sudden honk interrupted their sheepish glance competition.

“Ah. That’s—,” his eyes drifted towards a green SUV on the curb, turning slightly red himself.

The window had been rolled down, and a man in lilac was smiling cheekily at them from the driver’s seat. A man that bore an uncanny resemblance to one… Park Jimin.

“Hello, you.”

Ah, shit.

How long had he been there?

“Do not mind me,” he lilted. “Just wanted to say hi.”

Lia waved back. A little flustered. Had he seen them acting dumb?

“Now, bye!,” he lilted again.

The window rolled back up.

She looked at Taehyung. He was quite focusedly inspecting the park gates. Visage absolutely red.

“Yeah,” he motioned to the car, “my bandma—.”

The window rolled down a pinch.

“I watched nothing! Promise!”

The window rolled back up.

Taehyung put his mitten to the bridge of his nose, hiding a flush of utter embarrassment. Which Lia thought was absolutely cute.

The window rolled back down a wee.

“Have fun, dummies.”

The window rolled back up.

The SUV finally drove away.

Taehyung, a beautiful shade of beetroot, turned to her apologetically, chuckling. The poor man seemed mortified.

“My apologies. That was… embarrassing.”

Yeah, no shit.

“None needed.”

She tried to smile at him as reassuringly as she could with her very own nerves to deal with.

“What are bandmates for if not to tease the hell out of you, huh?”

And that’s how they started of their date (“their DATE,” Lia’s brain screamed) with easy, easy laughter.

“We should…,” he gestured towards the glasshouse dome at the very back, what seemed like a few blocks away.

“Yeah.”

The sunlight shone bright and clear on the park of leafless, dormant trees all around the dome. They trod along the outer sidewalk side by side, making small talk about the park and its many points of interest (“Did you know it has a skybridge?” “What? Really?").

She couldn’t get enough of his smile and his eyes and his hair bouncing as he walked under the blue, blue, blue sky.  Of his brown, brown eyes.

Of his cheeks flushing when their eyes met.

She felt her own chest falling into a trampoline every time they crossed a glance.

At least now she was grateful for the distraction of the hotteok. Munching on the little treat distracted her from Taehyung. Walking just inches away from her. Breathing just inches away from her. Just inches away. Actually talking to her. Breathing the same air as—okay, stop.

She eyed the park wearily, fearing someone might recognize him. Even if he was under layers of cozy winter attire. Even when he had reassured her plenty of times that she didn’t have to worry about that.

Soon they arrived at the main entrance of the building. It was already a quarter past two. To her surprise there was no line.

“Is this—? Is it not closed?”

“Nope.”

“But, there’s no one? I’ve heard it can take hours to get in even with a reservation. Even in February.”

“Ah, is that so?,” he said, something playful about his voice. “Should there be a line at the coldest, driest month of the year?”

“Well, people would want to visit a plant-friendly place in the winter, wouldn’t they?,” she tried to argue. “Especially in the coldest, driest, most plant-unfriendly month of the year.”

He was looking at her with somewhat of a… smug face. Almost mischievous. He turned to the front in a flash.

“Wait, wait, wait. Is it—?”

Had he? If he—no. He wouldn’t do such a thing. (“Why not, though?,” her brain provided. “He can.”)

“Taehyung-ssi?”

He turned to look at her. Definitely something smug about his face. Something intertwined with a little… bewilderment. Just a hint. But he recovered quickly. Back to smug. Playful.

“Yes?”

“You know something,” she accused him, narrowing her eyes.

“No idea what you’re talking about.”

He made a funny face (Lia doesn’t know the infamous Tata Mic face yet, folks) and turned around towards the gate.

“We should hurry, we’re stalling. And please,” he added, barely audible, “just Taehyung is okay.”

She didn’t have time to process that he just told her to drop all the formalities, because shit, her brain was in havoc thinking about… this, whatever he was playing.

Did he possibly book out the place? Cause that was not so far-fetched a possibility. The park outside the park was eerily, suspiciously uncrowded. And Taehyung suspiciously… bouncy. Suspiciously… smug.

Her heart fluttered, almost like it had jumped off a couple building floors.

Did he?

While her brain reeled around that possibility, he had reached the door, holding it open for Lia. He bowed as she walked in.

A man immediately approached them. A staff member in black, wearing the park’s logo. He smiled at both of them.

“Mr. Kim. And Mr. Kim’s companion,” he bowed. “Welcome.”

Companion. Yes. Mr. Kim’s companion.

Control your face, Lia, you cannot smile like an idiot in front of a stranger like this.

Taehyung bowed back. Lia almost forgot to.

“First and foremost, we deeply appreciate your booking the facilities for the afternoon.”

She looked at him agape. She had to refrain from uttering a gasp of shock.

He didn’t spare her a glance.

“I hope it was not an inconvenience.”

He—the little shi—he booked out the place. For them. For their date. (“For their DATE,” her brain screamed.) The butterflies tripled in her belly.

“Not at all.”

Of course.

That shit must be expensive.

But of course. Not at all.

“We hope that you enjoy the garden and all it has to offer. It will remain confidential, as per request.”

Confidential. Of course.

He booked out the place. Confidentially. Of course.

(“For their CONFIDENTIAL DATE,” her brain screamed.) 

“Thank you. We would like to go to the conservatory directly, if that is possible.”

“Of course.”

Of course.

They could skip the tour and have the garden to themselves.

For their date.

(“For their CONFIDENTIAL BOTANICAL GARDEN DATE,” her brain screamed.) 

Of course.

When the staff member turned around to lead them towards the entrance of the glasshouse, Taehyung finally turned to look at Lia.

With a smile.

And they looked.

She looked at him.

In disbelief.

While he just flashed her the cheekiest smile.

“Surprise?”

A smile that made her belly butterflies flutter and something melt in her chest. Though whether she was melting because of the smile or the grand gesture, she did not kn—bullshit. Of course she knew. Both. Definitely both.

He beckoned her to follow the staff, with a little exaggerated bow.

“After you.”

Oh, she was in for a day.

They made it down a long corridor, his warm presence alongside her, through compelling banners and vivid holos about the leafy garden’s inhabitants that they wouldn’t get to read. They arrived at a pair of glass doors. Green and green and green and a high glass dome peeked out from behind the door panes.

“Here. Welcome to the conservatory. Shall you require any further assistance, let us know.”

The staff member turned back around and left them alone.

Lia turned to Taehyung with what she hoped was a meaningful look. A look of un-fucking-believable.

He simply raised his eyebrows with a playful air.

He extended his arms and started to walk with his back to the garden.

“Shall we?”

He continued to pace backwards. With extended arms. And a raised brow. And a smirk. Like a shameless flirt.

What happened to the shy, nervous Taehyung of the convenience store?

Hello?

She had many words to say to this man. Many. All of which were stowed away at the back of her mind the minute the doors slid open as he walked through them, still facing her with a smirk and open arms, and the sounds of the rainforest escaped from the conservatory right into the corridor.

Do you know that moment when you know that this is it?

That was the moment she realized that this was it.

The warm-brown-eyed flirt who’d booked out a whole botanical garden in the middle of the winter for her, after greeting her with hotteok looking like a bear, currently smiling out to her irradiating nothing but goodness… that was it. If time and the future would prove her wrong, she did not care. She’d let him fly her to the moon.

She slowly trod through the glass doors after him.

✻  ✻  ✻

Masterlist

✻  ✻  ✻

All chapters: Chapter 1 — Chapter 2 — Chapter 3 — Chapter 4 — Chapter 5  — Chapter 6  — Chapter 7 — Chapter 8 — Chapter 9  — Chapter 10 — Chapter 11 — Chapter 12 — Chapter 13 — Chapter 14 — Chapter 15 — Chapter 16 — Chapter 17 — Chapter 18 — Chapter 19  — Chapter 20 — Chapter 21 — Chapter 22 — Chapter 23 — Chapter 24 — Chapter 25 — Chapter 26 — Chapter 27 — Update on Part 2 — Part 2 Preview

[merelygifted]

Michigan took children from their parents — then failed to give them a ‘real’ education

...  Some [foster children] thought they’d received quality instruction from caring teachers. Others recalled being largely parked in front of computers or handed packets of worksheets.

But all of them learned a difficult lesson when they moved out of these facilities and tried to transfer to a public school: The classes they took in the state-funded, state-licensed institutions didn’t necessarily count toward graduation.

“They said I had no credits so I had to start over,” said Kayla Goshay, 23, who learned at 18 that the classes she took during two years in a home for girls weren’t reflected on her transcript. She suspected the courses weren’t great — girls ages 12 to 17 were all taking the same online classes at the same time, she said — but she was told she was working toward a diploma.

“I was shocked,” she said. “I was hurt and irritated because I thought I was doing something and I really wasn’t doing anything.”

Children in foster care face some of the nation’s steepest obstacles to graduation, with only about 54% earning a diploma or GED certificate by age 19, compared to about 86% of public high school students overall.

Foster youth placed in institutions — a group that's disproportionately Black and Latino — face even longer odds, experts say, since they’re more likely to have unmet social and emotional needs, and they’re less likely to have foster parents to speak up for them.

Their problems are compounded in states like Michigan, where the child welfare system and education officials pay little attention to the instruction facilities provide and have failed to ensure that facilities comply with laws requiring the timely transfer of academic records, educators and foster care advocates say.

“These are children who haven’t done anything to deserve what’s happened to them,” said state Rep. Stephanie A. Young, a Democrat from Detroit who serves on the Legislature’s child welfare and foster care task forces. “Instead of really help prepare them, really help equip them, we’re giving them the short end of the stick with inadequate education.”

Michigan’s child welfare and education agencies say they have no way to comprehensively or systematically oversee the quality of education provided in facilities. The contracts the state has with 58 institutions require them to provide children with “appropriate educational services” but leave the definition of “appropriate” up to the companies or organizations that run them. That means the facilities approach education in different ways, with some sending students to nearby public schools and others operating on-campus schools that are overseen by a local district or run as a charter school or private academy. The private schools are largely beyond the reach of government oversight.

And many of the programs — both public and private — are clearly not meeting students’ needs.

“I felt destroyed. I felt like everything I did was for nothing,” said Christian Randle, 17, who has spent the past year trying to get credit for the ninth and 10th grade classes he took in a mix of public and private schools while living in residential facilities.

Randle has become so frustrated seeing his hard work “swept away” that he decided last month to give up on a diploma and is now pursuing a GED certificate, he said. He’s part of a group of youth in Michigan who are pushing the state to address the issue.

“They take us away from our parents for things that they’re not doing, but then y’all not doing the things you’re supposed to do,” he said of state officials. “Who’s going to take us from you?”  ...

[xoteajays]

i want a hear abt the new aib oc! pretty please with sugar packets on top

introducing … her〜

did i just use this fc? yea and i’ll do it again.

her name is kikuri aguni (粟国 菊里). she’s aguni’s sister and younger than him by 7 years, making her 26 in the live action and 19 in the manga oof. their father was an abusive alcoholic and their mother abandoned them when aguni was 10 and shino was 3. 2 years later, aguni took kiku and ran away after an incident with their father. they spent 3 nights living on the streets until aguni could track down their maternal aunt.

their aunt didn’t really want them around, but let them stay and left aguni to be kikuri’s ‘parent’ for the most part. she didn’t have the easiest school life because of aguni’s (and danma/hatter’s) reputation as delinquent thugs after they beat up a street gang by themselves at 16. her classmates were too scared of aguni to be actively mean to her, and it resulted in them all just kind of avoiding her completely instead. so she didn’t really have any friends and it made her pretty clingy with aguni. she also grew up with danma, but they’re not close - they have a bit of a rivalry because they don’t like sharing aguni.

as an adult, kikuri has a job as a bookshop clerk. the bookshop is one she spent a lot of time at when she was younger and they hired her when she was 17, shortly before aguni joined the sdf. she has a rare day off that she’s spending with aguni and danma when the meteor hits.

her fic mostly centres around the founding and development of the beach, mixing canons from the live action and the manga, but there’s also a romance element there between kikuri and both niragi and chishiya. with niragi, it’s more genuine, developing over the course of their time at the beach; with chishiya, it’s complicated since he initially approaches her with self-serving intentions (plotting to steal the cards) but his feelings eventually start to change, especially during s2.

general notes!!

aguni’s first name, 'morizono' uses the kanji '杜' and '園' meaning ‘forest garden’. similarity, kikuri’s name kanji, '菊' and '里', mean ‘chrysanthemum village’. their surname, 'aguni/粟国', means ‘grain country’.

aguni taught her self-defence and other fighting tactics starting in her mid-teens. he insists on her keeping up with training so she doesn’t get lazy. she’s not a fan of guns (and aguni doesn’t want her having one anyway), but uses various knives over the course of her time in the borderland.

she takes up a job as the beach’s notekeeper, taking down lists of members’ names and eventually making the teams, collecting and counting the cards at the end of games, marking down game arena locations on maps, and various other things.

she’s accidentally the cause for the beach’s ‘death to all traitors’ rule after she tells hatter about some missing cards.

she’s commented on as being the ‘most approachable’ of the beach’s executives, but it’s mainly just because she’s the only one willing to deal with the problems people tell her about. she mostly sticks to herself otherwise, typically in her hotel room, her office, or a secluded couch on the second floor of the main annex.

spades and clubs tend to be her best games. she’s very detail-oriented, but doesn’t have a lot of tact for diamond or heart games.

she has mild astigmatism requiring glasses, but loses her glasses during a game.

she’s acrophobic (fear of heights) and has to face this fear during multiple games.

her favourite alcohol is umeshu (japanese plum wine). though she rarely drinks due to her father’s alcholism, on rougher nights at the beach, she can be found drinking choya.

she has a lot of botanical knowledge from books she’d read at work. not enough to keep plants or a garden alive, but enough to be able to name specific species and list various facts.

she’s more on the tomboyish side and it comes out especially through her fashion. she wears a lot of baggy clothes and the most ‘typically feminine’ she gets is crop tops and painting her nails. a lot of the jewellery she wears is silver.

while not one-to-one, she and aguni are noted to have similarities, specifically in their eyes and ever-serious expressions. aguni claims kikuri looks like their mother, but she isn’t sure since she doesn’t remember her or have any pictures.

kiku is mildly inspired by raven from the original teen t.itans cartoon; mainly in terms of her way of speaking, and being more on the distant and quiet side, personality-wise.

[doublesidedgemini]

11/8 - 11/9

Oh, man. Where do I even start lol. Yesterday was great. Today? What the fuck.

Yesterday I went out to the barn and had a much better ride! Still had some issues with my horse, but way better than over the weekend, so that made me feel really happy. And I was able to fit into a pair of breeches that were always just too tight. I could still stand to lose more in them, I did still have a muffin top cos they are low rise, BUT they were not squeezing the death out of me and actually felt comfortable! Progress!

But that progress doesn’t feel fast enough. And today made me realize a lot of things. In addition to purging, I also romantically connected with this 6’5” skinny ass man and that in and of itself is a very complicated story. I need to get a real journal because there’s just too much.

Anyway, tw: cal log, wiaiad, purge, ed after the cut

11/8

Breakfast: Celsius, dragonfruit lime packet — 10 cals

Lunch: 1 cup of garbanzo beans w/ kale & tomato — 200 cals; 1/4 cup white rice — 50 cals; 1/2 small avocado — 80 cals;

Dinner: 1 can of Upton’s Naturals vegan Italian wedding soup — 200 cals

Snacks: 2 pieces of chocolate — 43 cals; 1 lightly salted rice cake — 35 cals; 1/2 small avocado — 80 cals; 1 tbsp plant based ranch — 35 cals; 1/2 a medium large cucumber — 17 cals; 1 ritz cracker — 16 cals; 2 tbsps white rice — 19 cals; 1 full size Kit Kat bar — 210 cals…. I know I know it’s not vegan!!! Don’t judge me!!! I needed the sugar before my ride :(

Exercise: Grooming + riding = -429 cals! Fall is mud season which means long grooming sessions. I have no idea if MFP’s calorie counts are accurate for these but whatever

Total: 614! Pretty good!

11/9

I was on a good track for today… Mixed half an avocado with some ranch dip and ate it with cucumber slices and grape tomatoes for breakfast, had a banana + a caramel rice cake w/ pbnj for lunch, then ruined it all my last hour of work by binging on kitkat bars I stole from the barn and takis.

Normally, if I lose control around food, I either take it in stride and adjust for the rest of the day or just give up for the day. But I had already been feeling nauseous prior to this so I just… threw it up. I’m not sure if I got it all up, and I’m not even shocked that I’m worried about that. When my “relapse” was “triggered” for the first few weeks I felt a chill of fear as the rational part of me noticed my behaviors changing and now… this. I don’t typically purge. That was never a thing for me in the past. But I just couldn’t let all that food sit in my stomach.

I wanted a beer but after throwing up no thank you. I felt so nauseous still I didn’t want anything else. I had two cups of vegetable broth and a few bites of vegan mac n cheese since then just to put something in my stomach. Life comes at ya fast. I guess we’ll see what happens tomorrow.

[kholekaenablingot-student1]

Covid-trick or treat- unpacking the good, bad and the ugly of a pandemic.

(Google , photo)

Jokes aside!

Coronavirus was ahead of us according to (Cucinotta, D., et al., 2020) , the number of cases outside China increased 13-fold and the number of countries with cases increased threefold & we needed to be more aggressive to contain.

In the midst of containing Covid-19 the trick, bad and the ugly of the pandemic were that people had to transition from what we viewed and understood as normal life to the New normal.

The New normal negatively impacted the Person and occupational fit :

-people were forced to work in uncomfortable working postures just like shown on the picture the Health workers who were also labeled as Frontline workers had to find ways to get through to people without merely touching them but had to test, diagnose and treat in a midst of Covid-19.

Adapting to the New normal that was introduced in the name of Banners, who would have known that A virus would have triggered so many emotions people were left vulnerable, had anxiety attacks and felt disconnected to themselves, families and friends.

Evoking feelings of Loneliness 🥺

I remember so vividly when i had just moved out of university residence and went back home after 3 months of being away from home, i had to be in quarantine for few days just to make sure my family will be protected and we all know parents and being skeptical about “Big cities”.

Gone are those days where our lifestyle were fancied while we broke each and everyday of counting down to the day of freedom, its all started as 21 days and nobody knows how we got to Level 5 of Covid-19 where we were infringed of freedom, even buying a packet of chips was banned!

Remember how the army was sent out to put us in line because we couldn’t mask up as we suffocated every minute with the mask covering the nose and mouth. Remember how we weren’t given a chance to adapt to mask but rather it became a norm until 2 years later we were still stuck with them.

This triggers anger because I remember how my grandmother had to wake up in the wee hours to get us food but she returned empty handed as the lines were rather too long or couldn’t find items that she needed.

In the midst of Covid the good were also experienced.

-I remember i had just lost a bursary and i was in a verge of deregistering because i wasn’t going to be able to pay for fees and Residence but just a week before i deregistered were sent home for 2 weeks , the government placed us on 21 days of quarantine, i took leap of faith and deregistered Residence and i stayed at home

Online learning was a blessing in disguise because i was able to study and not being bothered about Rent and groceries, here i am doing my third year therefore i could say Covid-19 did not only break souls but it SAVED my academic year.

Clearly we had to avoid Men😂🤣 I will not go into detail about how we got the first case of covid-19 in South Africa, during covid-19 quarantine we were able to laugh while taking precautions.

For me as a student Covid-19 impacted me both negatively and positively

Negative factors

When online learning was introduced as Dry run it was not dry it was Slippery, how the mind transitioned to vacation and could not adjust to the new style if learning with parents and siblings around who did not understand the concept of being infront of your laptop screen from morning to afternoons, school work piled up and we were forever asking for extention of submission dates, blame it on the internet and not having the hang of the new learning technique.

Positive factor

-The ability to learn and understand by yourself, working at your pace and it instilled the skill of time management, social skills and the ability to independent.

-it increased the self hygiene worldwide as people would often wash their hand and sanitize as well and e-learning improved the students computer skills and literacy.

-Increased the country’s unity as how we followed and obeyed the protocols that helped us to be where we are today.

Returning to Normal has been a bliss because now we can closely interact with clients, get to know how to assess and treat rather then having assimilated paper cases and I can say that we were once deprived Education because we were limited as to what we can do.

References

Cucinotta , d., & Vanelli, m.(2020). Who declares covid-19 a pandemic. acta biomed 91(1), 157-160 https://doi.org/10.23750/abm.v91i1.9397

[dnaamericaapp]

Foster Youth In Michigan Who Worked Toward Diplomas Learned A Discouraging Truth: They Had No Credits

Michigan is catastrophically failing to provide many of the most vulnerable children in its care with a quality education, delaying some teenagers’ graduation by years or leaving them so frustrated that they drop out of school, according to foster youth, their advocates and educators who’ve tried to help them.

NBC News spoke with 10 current or former Michigan foster youth who collectively spent time in more than a dozen residential facilities in recent years, either because social workers couldn’t find a family to take them or because the state said they needed treatment for mental health or substance misuse issues.

All of them attended classes for months or years with other young residents of those facilities.

All of them were assigned schoolwork and completed it, they said.

Some thought they’d received quality instruction from caring teachers. Others recalled being largely parked in front of computers or handed packets of worksheets.

But all of them learned a difficult lesson when they moved out of these facilities and tried to transfer to a public school: The classes they took in the state-funded, state-licensed institutions didn’t necessarily count toward graduation.

“They said I had no credits so I had to start over,” said Kayla Goshay, 23, who learned at 18 that the classes she took during two years in a home for girls weren’t reflected on her transcript. She suspected the courses weren’t great — girls ages 12 to 17 were all taking the same online classes at the same time, she said — but she was told she was working toward a diploma.

“I was shocked,” she said. “I was hurt and irritated because I thought I was doing something and I really wasn’t doing anything.”

Children in foster care face some of the nation’s steepest obstacles to graduation, with only about 54% earning a diploma or GED certificate by age 19, compared to about 86% of public high school students overall.-(source: nbc news)

DNA America

“it’s what we know, not what you want us to believe.”

#dna #dnaamerica #news #politics

[queerstudiesnatural]

Spn poetry month - Day 26: Dirt

@spnpoetryrenaissance​​

gardener dean is very important to me. and yes i think he has a lot of panic attacks when he’s no longer running on spite and adrenaline and finally lets his brain catch up to what he’s had to live through.

cw panic attack

Transcription under the cut

we got a garden, in spite of god

when i bought this house, i thought about how much you would love having a garden with flowers and bees and other annoying little living things it never once occurred to me that all that's yours would be mine that i would be getting a garden, too to grow tomatoes and fennel and strawberries to have a singular apple tree that bears small, barely eatable apples but that i still cherish like a part of me

we decided to try potatoes cut them up into segments and i dug a trench the stench of rotting flesh fills up the air in a bubble dirt and bones and meat surround me. past my bubble, the world falls away i am lying down now, next to the corpse, next to the worms that crawl up my nose and into my veins my lungs have decomposed and i will never breathe again. faintly, in the distance, a voice i am being pulled up now, out of my grave four years old in my mother's lap, unborn in an aquarium swimming, swimming, swimming inside myself shh, it's okay count backwards for me 50, 49, 48, 47, the worms crawl and crawl 46, 45, i think someone died, 44 43, focus on my breathing 42, 41, 40, 39, 38, 37, 36 my face is damp, has it been raining? or is it blood pouring out of my eyes? 35, 34, 33, 32, you're here but i can't see you i can smell you, though, and that's nice you smell better than the grave, 31, 30, 29 better than— 28, 27, 26 better than the corpse still lying somewhere behind me 25, 24, 23, you're right, there is no corpse 22, 21, 20, just dirt and potato segments that we cut up together, 19, and that are gonna grow strong for me to make croquettes and shepherd's pie. the worms are going away now. 18, 17, 16, 15, 14, i love you you're safe, i love you, 13, 12, 11, kiss me rise, fall, rise, fall, 10, 9, 8, no more burning, no more crawling 7, 6, 5, 4, it's just us and this house that you rebuilt for me for us, for our family, 3, 2, 1, i love you. stay with me.

i love my garden. i sit all day by my flower beds, my skin browning under the sun, and i have many more freckles (more places for you to kiss me). i don't dig the holes anymore, but i look at you turning over fresh soil your back glistening and packets of seeds at your feet and i can't help but think i've made it. maybe my chest gets tight sometimes, and maybe the smell of death still finds its way under my skin but i count backwards, and i listen for your voice, and i know that this is real. i know i can hold your hand, and cook us dinner i know i can drape myself around your back, even with my naked chest, even with sweat and dirt and coffee breath i know that we will have strawberries in the spring. i laugh at god, to know we are surrounded by alive things.

[pixla]

hii i was wondering if i could get a tommy x reader fic where they have the dynamic ziggy and nick had (camper and counselor w like 1 year age difference)? it can be them visiting him in his cabin after midnight or something so they can hook up lol

Okay, so I realised this is a lot like the last Nick fic I posted so I tried to make them as different as possible

——————

How can I ever repay you?

Tommy slater(19) x nb!reader(18)

Warnings: sex, camper x councillor, protected sex, penetrative sex, swearing, dom!tommy??? (Tell me if there’s anymore)

Word count: 800

It was a particularly rainy night when you rose from your bed deciding it would be a great idea to sneak out to Tommy’s cabin for one of your surprise midnight visits.

The rain pounded against the earth around you, softening the soil into a slick sludge causing your boots to sink under your weight. “Fuck..” you groan, reaching Tommy’s cabin, trying to wipe the mud from your boots before entering. You sigh knocking against his door softly, trying your best to be as inconspicuous as possible.

The door opened in what felt like less than a second, revealing a completely unsurprised looking Tommy. “I should've known.” He rolls his eyes playfully, moving his body out of the way, gesturing you inside.

You groan laying back on his bed, already having discarded both your boots and raincoat by his door. “The things I do for you.” You grin sitting up.

“Oh how will I ever repay you?” He rolls his eyes walking over to where you sat.

You laugh looking up at him, your hands wandering up his sides eventually reaching his collar, where you tug, pulling him down to your eye level. “I know a way.” You hummed, pulling him in closer until your lips reached each other.

His hand snaking round your neck, he carefully pushes the both of you back onto his bed, him now caving over you.

You smiled softly into the kiss, his hands trailing to the hem of your shirt, you both parted from the kiss to allow Tommy to lift it up over your head slowly. “Your turn.” You whisper.

Tommy let’s out an airy laugh, as he gives himself the same treatment, quickly discarding his maroon short sleeve shirt to the ground.

Slow kisses are placed from your neck down to your chest as Tommy hands grip your waist, digging his fingers into your skin softly. “God, you look so good right now.” He mumbles into your skin. You lie your head back at the gentle words of praise, closing your eyes tightly.

Fumbling you move your hand over to Tommy’s bed side table that lies directly beside you, fiddling with the handle of the top draw, eventually getting it open. Rummaging around inside, slightly distracted by Tommy’s current actions, you searched for a condom within all of the junk Tommy had stuffed in the small draw.

Pulling out the bright red square, you sighed. “For a moment there I thought we’d just have to stick to foreplay.” You laughed, handing the packet to Tommy, as he began to fiddle with the buckle of his belt, ripping it off with one big tug. To be honest, you practically squirmed at the sight alone, that small act alone sticking in your mind.

Slowly his fingers hooked over your waistband. “Can I?” He looked up at you caringly. You nodded, him continuing to strip you of the pyjama bottoms you bore before.

His face became level with yours as he pulled you in close for another kiss, as you felt him push against you gently. You whined quietly into the kiss as you felt him move slowly inside you.

He stopped waiting for your signal for him to move which came with a small nod. His rhythm started off slow but as he heard your small whimpers escape from your mouth, his thrusts became harder and more precise, levelling in on the spot that made you cry the loudest. “How does it feel, baby?” He groaned into your skin.

Your nails dug into Tommy’s back as with each thrust you felt yourself become closer and closer to your peak. “Fuck, tommy..it’s so good, so good..” you trail off in between thrusts.

Tommy’s quiet grunts in your ear soon sent you over the edge as you felt yourself tighten around him. As your climax pulsates through your body.

Tommy followed soon after yours as you gripped his hair tightly with one hand, and his shoulder with the other.

Lying down next to you, his chest rising and falling at an alarming rate, he whispers in your ear. “You were so good, baby.”, running his fingers through your hair.

[aquagustd]

poppy - KSJ

pairing: seokjin x reader

summary: you are hopelessly in love with your best friend who thought that you only see him as a big brother, but what happens when he finds out that he was wrong.

genre: fluff, crack

word count: 2.1K

warnings/tags: strong language, food play, heavy petting, idiots to lovers

a/n: I live for seokjin laughing at his own jokes

↳part of the Serotonin Series

∞

[13:52] You: where are u

[13:52] You: I started without you *evil laugh*

[14:18] wwh 🤪: meany

[14:18] wwh 🤪: omw had to get your passion fruits

[14:18] wwh 🤪: took my time picking them for the princess

[14:19] You: good

You catch yourself smiling at your phone screen.

Seokjin has been one of your closest friends since your first year of college, as he was a few years ahead of you, you were paired with him for your modules’ tutorial lessons. He was a great mentor and listener, you soon found out, and you two became inseparable after a few lessons that soon became hang outs during the vacations.

Seokjin was handsome and smart, and all the girls and boys of your college were charmed by his cheesy pick-up lines and amiable personality, that they would do anything for a bit of his attention. Sometimes you would get thrown into the favours people would do for him, free coffee, tons of chocolate, you’d even be the third wheel on some of his dates, much to their dismay. Free food he would say.

You could say you saw him as a big brother, at one stage. But all that changed when one night you ran to your apartment crying after an unsuccessful date. All it took was one text and he was by your side, calling you a big baby for crying yet still consoling you with a comforting arm on your back.

Stop crying Y/N. He wasn’t worth it anyways. You’re so intelligent and he’s a dumbass but you’re crying because of him now you’re the dumbass.

You sniffed with your head resting on his shoulder, whining about how you’re going to be forever alone, and no one will ever love you besides your family.

He had been silent for a while then said that you won’t be forever alone because he’ll always be with you. And in the softest whisper, “I love you Y/N.”

You looked up into his eyes and he smiled at you, when you rested your head on his chest that night and could hear his steady heartbeat, you knew that things changed for you.

You hadn’t dated anyone after that because you’re hopelessly in love with your best friend.

The front door opening breaks you out of your daydream. Seokjin enters the kitchen with two shopping bags full of passion fruits.

“I come bearing fruits,” he says tiredly, probably after the walk up your stairs.

Your eyes bulge out of their sockets, “Oh my God, did you get passion fruits for all of Seoul?” You rush to take a packet out of his hand and place it on the counter with a huff.

“You said you needed quite a bit for the meringues and cream filling,” he answers with a shrug of his shoulders, bottom lip sticking out indignantly.

“Yes, but I think two huge packets is far from quite a bit, don’t you think?”

“Yah! I rather bring more than what you need than less. Do you remember what happened the last time,” he rambles with the tips of his ears turning pink.

“Fine fine, guess I’ll have to make passion fruit desserts for the rest of the week then.”

“Guess so.”

You pull open a drawer to take out his pink apron, moving around the counter to tie it for him.

“I’m almost done with the cake and icing, just need to get the meringues in the oven.”

“What is that godawful smell?” He screws up his nose and you shoot him a glare. “I’m just kidding Y/N, you know how much I love your candied lemons.”

He moves to the stove and sees the lemons you have boiling. “Yeah, well they aren’t for you just so you know, its for the lemon poppy seed cake decor.”

He hums and starts working on separating the eggs for the meringue. You always bake and cook together but your stomach always flutters with the domesticity of it.

You work in silence for around ten minutes, but you know it isn’t long until—

“Hey Y/N.”

You hum, too busy working on icing the cake to perfection.

“Look here.”

“What”

“Just look.”

You sigh and turn to him, seeing him holding the stiff meringues over his head with a goofy smile on his face.

“I’m so whipped for you,” cue squeaky laugh.

You roll your eyes and pick up your spatula before you hear him grumble “funny…Yoongi…funny.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” he sets the bowl on the counter.

“I thought I heard you say something about Yoongi,” you think you know what he said but you just like to tease him.

“Fine! I said Yoongi is not even funny but you laugh at his dry jokes, you don’t even laugh at mine.”

You blink at him, “when did I even laugh at-“ “yesterday when we all went out and he said something that wasn’t even funny and you were like-“ he tries to mimic your laugh but in an obnoxiously high pitched tone.

“Okay first of all I do not laugh like that and second, Yoongi is funny, that guy has like a dark sense of humour which I find hilarious.”

He just huffs and starts scooping out the pulp from the passion fruit, but you stare at him with folded arms, and you notice the pink that dusts the entirety of his upper body.

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous,” you cock your head to the side to peek at his face.

“Me? Why would I be jealous,” he scoffs.

You take a step towards him and he visibly stiffens.

“Oh, I don’t know maybe because I don’t laugh at your unfunny jokes.”

He looks enraged and takes a step forward towards you, a foot away from each other now, “unfunny, huh?”

You nod and he shakes his head then looks at you weirdly, particularly at your right cheek, “hey you uhm…”

“What?”

“You have some icing on your cheek.”

“Where?”

You touch your cheek and try to wipe it, “here?”

He brings his index finger close to your face, “no right over,” he runs his finger through the bowl of icing and smears it across your face, “HERE!”

And he runs to the lounge.

You stand there, gobsmacked. “You bastard!” You untie your apron and scoop a chunk of icing in your hand and run after him.

He stands at the coffee table and moves as you move around it, hands held up placatingly.

“Now princess, play nice.”

“Play nice? I’ll show you nice,” and you jump onto the coffee table and charge towards him.

He certainly wasn’t expecting that because you effectively knock him over, splayed across the rug.

You smear the chunk all over his chin and neck, ruining his pink button up shirt.

He yelps and tackles you so that your back is flat against the rug, pinning your hands down with his.

You both stare at each other, breathing heavily and that’s when you acknowledge the position that you’re in. His legs on either side of your body with your hands pinned down, boobs spilling from the neckline of your tank top.

He stares into your eyes then leans down. And that’s when you think this is it, closing your eyes and puckering your lips but the kiss never comes.

Instead, you feel the hot sensation of lips and a wet muscle moving from your cheeks to your neck.

When he sits up, still holding your hands, he says so casually, “cleaning you up,” voice above a whisper, your stomach doing flips.

Cleaning you up? You stare at him before you realize he has icing on him too, so you lift your head and place it in the crook of his neck and start to suck the icing smeared on his Adam’s apple, it bobbing under your lips.

Your lips and tongue move slowly over his chin and you hear him sigh.

This time when you part from him and he sits up, you think great you fucked up and ruined a perfect friendship when he rests his back against the couch and pulls your legs over his lap.

Before you can realize what’s happening, he attacks your lips.

Soft pillowy lips moving over yours languidly. You place you arms around his neck and pull him closer to you, sharing body heat.

He runs his tongue along your bottom lip, seeking entrance and you moan when the wet muscle slides over yours, your fingers slowly creeping into his hair and tugging on the silky strands.

The kiss starts to get sloppy, you sinking your teeth into his lower lip and his hands start to explore, running along your sides and up your back then slowly coming to the front to latch onto your boobs, massaging the soft mounds over your tank top.

The only sound that can be heard is the lewd smacks of your lips and your mind is filled with thoughts of him and the way his hands are moving over your body so gently.

But the moment is broken when the timer for the meringues in the oven go off.

Breaking apart, breaths mingling, you are met with a sight that plagued your dreams for years. His lips are cherry red and swollen, hair messy and pupils blown.

“I’ll get it,” his voice is gruff when he speaks and you see the top buttons of his shirt are undone. Your body definitely has a mind of its own.

You move to sit on the couch, trying to wrap your head around what just happened.

You just made out with the guy you’ve been in love with for years, never making a move on him for fear of rejection and you didn’t want to make things weird and ruin the friendship.

He walks into the lounge after what felt like an eternity, buttons now done up, even the one he always leaves open because he said he feels suffocated when its on, and you prepare yourself for the worst.

He sits next to you on the couch, “I uhm…Put the second tray of meringues in the oven.”

“Oh, thanks.”

Great, what you’ve feared has come true, everything is weird now.

“I’m sorry.” He speaks first and you look at him with furrowed brows. “I shouldn’t have k-kissed you like that, it was wrong of me.”

You open your mouth to speak but he cuts you off.

“I just couldn’t hold myself back anymore.”

What. “What?”

He takes your hands in his, “you know I love you Y/N, I really do.”

You stare into his eyes, urging him to continue.

“But I love you far more than what a supposed big brother should and I know that’s the only way you see me and fuck, I stepped out of line and- “

You cut him off by holding his face in your hands and pushing your lips together, you press your forehead to his when you break apart, “I love you too, more than what you think.”

His eyes go wide, lips in a pout, “so, you love me more than a big brother?”

“Ew, can you just stop saying that, it’s gross. And by the way,” you intertwine your fingers, “I never saw you as a big brother, okay maybe for like a month or so.”

His mouth makes an ‘O’ shape, and you giggle.

“But I’m still sorry about the kiss, I wanted to at least take you on a date and make it romantic.”

“We’ve already been on tons of dates,” you cock an eyebrow, and he squints his eyes.

“Come on, you know what I’m talking about.”

“Ahhhhh,” he slaps your leg with his free hand, “to be honest they were the third wheels,” he chuckles.

The sound of a phone ringing cuts through the air, you reach for your phone on the coffee table, “Hello?”

Who is it Seokjin mouths. Tae you mouth back.

“Mhm, mhm, yeah, yeah, no we’re done, yeah, okay, see you in a bit bye⁓”

“He said they’re almost here,” you say while standing up from the couch pulling Seokjin with you.

You both walk blissfully to the kitchen hand in hand, when there’s a knock at the door.

“Almost here?” Seokjin says surprised and you laugh.

“I’ll get it.”

The guys file in and you wish Jimin a happy birthday, your apartment filled with masculine laughter.

When they’re all seated in the lounge, you engaged in conversation that you don’t notice a presence behind you until their breath kisses your skin.

“I’m not done with you yet, when this place is empty, I’m gonna have you dripping down my fingers like dessert.”

You clench your thighs together while the skin on your arms raises in goosebumps.

-

When you’re cleaning up later in the kitchen, you hear a shriek which can only be the maknae’s, come from the lounge.

“Ewwww, what is this on the floor? What have you and noona been doing?!”

You hear Seokjin mumble something, but you couldn’t quite catch it and then a chorus of disgusted, “HYUNG!!!”

Followed by squeaky laughter.

-

a/n: let me know what you think!

[havin-fun-imagining-twd]

Too much thinking before bed, Pt. 1

When - right after Like a traditional Sunday dinner, so we’re still at the CDC in episode TS-19. If y’all are interested in more of the Slowpoke Series, here’s the Masterlist.

Perspective - 2nd person

Relationships - you and the gang! This one heavily stars our wonderful Miss Jacqui because she deserves it and we don’t have much time left with her. And yes, work-in-progress Daryl’s in it, too, don’t you worry.

Genre - varied.

Pronouns - ain’t got none, son.

TWs - language, mention of suicidal ideation, intoxication, arguing

Word count - only one way to find out.

“The man asked us to go easy on the hot water, Theodore. You used how much, then?”

He hesitates before answering just long enough for that sheepish smile to give him away. “Wasn’t no long one, but I enjoyed myself some. And I know Carl used warm water at least, right, little man?”

The kid just ducks behind his book and holds in his giggle.

Eyebrows raised but eyes warm, Jacqui tuts that “You best make that doctor a good breakfast tomorrow, then.”

“Even Dale used some hot water, sister.”

“We all may do as we choose,” she reminds him. “Don’t mean that whatever we choose is best.”

When Carol and Sophia walk into the room, T-Dog appeals to them. “Tell me y’all also used some hot water?”

Little Sophia blushes slightly and her mother makes a lopsided grin. “Perhaps a little,” Carol admits.

Turning to you with an amused expression on her face, Jacqui concludes that “I think it was just you, myself, and that brother of yours who took our showers cold.”

“Do we get a prize in the mornin’?” you joke dryly.

“Your prize will be that breakfast I’m gonna whip up!” T-Dog is quick to joke back. “I cannot wait to get me a look in the pantry here.”

It was mainly Carol and Mr. Morales who oversaw the meals back at the quarry, but T-Dog always helped out with breakfast. He’d been reminiscing about how much he missed bacon and eggs for a few weeks now, actually. Not that The CDC could have that kind of stuff. You assume that there are only MREs or maybe oatmeal packets or other non-perishable things.

Mmm, you’re already daydreaming about possibly having grits with that shelf-stable cheese stuff. That’s reasonable, right? Either way, can’t hurt to hope. After all, you are three for three on your dumb guesses for what the CDC would have inside it.

You still can’t believe that random luck.

Though technically, the video game system that you’d hypothesized a bunch of scientists might have in the breakroom wasn’t a Wii, it was an Xbox. So close yet so far.

Naturally, the first words out of your mouth were “No Playstation? This place blows, I’m out.”

To your relief, Shane had genuinely chuckled a little when you’d said that. His eyes crinkled and he even appeared to relax somewhat. “No video games anyways, weirdo, doctor’s orders.”

“Oh, I ain’t touching no Xbox, loser.”

The group let you shower first due to you having that migraine earlier (and subsequently getting sick on the roadside). There was only one, really nice, big shower stall. Like, unusually big to allow for assisted emergency washes if necessary; it was a lab, after all. There was a locker room type deal with shower stalls and toilets down the hall, but most wanted to wait for the nice one.

And since Dr. Jenner had asked that you go easy on the hot water, you took your shower cold. You feel a little foolish now, but at least you can say that you respected your hosts wishes...annnnnd you’re now daydreaming about a steaming hot, excessively long shower.

The cold felt nice on your bruise, you suppose. You’d laughed too much at dinner earlier so it was really sore now.

Full disclosure, you did flip the faucet to hot (just for a moment!) after you were all rinsed just to get one douse of heat because ahh, but otherwise you’d been good and did as your host asked.

Shane also took his cold. You know this because he came back to the room covered in goosebumps. He often took his cold, though. Something to do with keeping healthy and fit.

If only he hadn’t also come back to the room carrying the half-full bottle of Southern Comfort.

“Hey, thanks for setting up the cots – oh.” That’s when you noticed the bottle. “Daryl shared?”

“Please, not now. Unless you want in on this.”

“Just brushed my teeth,” you declined. “It’s just a little...” Alarming to see you this way. “Different for you.” you worded carefully. Then, half-smiling, you tried to tease that “Grandma Jean would scold you somethin’ fierce.”

Your brother wasn’t having it. “Yeah, well not all of us are good little prudes,” he’d muttered.

Which was damned rude. And God help the two of you, you’ve both got tempers. You technically didn’t sound angry yet, though. And you weren’t fighting yet, you were simply taken aback. “Hey. I ain’t attacking you, Shaney, watch your mouth.”

“Then shut up.”

Okay, that’s when the two of you were full-on fighting.

“Don’t tell me to –”

“ – I don’t have the patience your snide little judgements right now.”

Snide little judgements? Is that what he thought? You weren’t condemning, you were concerned! “I was worried, asshole.”

“Go try and be useful someplace else,” he warned. “I don’t need this shit right now.”

“But you do need to get drunk and start actin’ up, is that right?”

He hadn’t been himself more and more, but for the past few days, he’d been almost foreign. What was his deal?

“I’ve always been a cocky asshole, Y/N, you know that.” Ugh, then he was doing that thing where he was smiling even though he was furious. “Even Grandma Jean knew that,” he ranted.

Then your brother had taken another gulp, and your anger was replaced by plain, old disappointment. You sure as hell sounded disappointed as you cautioned “This ain’t you, man.”

“It really is.”

“Stop,” you’d growled as you reached over to grab the bottle from him.

But he lifted it away, blocked you with his arm, and hissed “Yeah, how about you do the same while we’re at it?” His muscles had tensed up like he was about to punch something.

“Is this about Fort Benning or what, Shane? About the camp?”

“You really don’t know shit, naïve little brat.” What the fuck?

“Then open your idiot mouth and tell me what’s behind this, you limp dick!” you’d shouted back.

“Just – please! I need to fuckin’– ”

His eyes were squeezed shut and his fists were clenched but he said nothing further. Then he sat, his shoulders slumped, and when he finally spoke again, his voice was hoarse and sounded higher than usual. “You need to le – I’m sorry, um...” And he rephrased it: “Please, give me some space. ‘Take the kettle off the burner,’ right?”

Your blood pressure was sky-high, but the little part of your brain that wasn’t hot and angry stood at attention when he said that little phrase. Mama had used that one a lot. You were a household of hot-heads and fosters; it had been a requirement. And it somehow worked for you guys.

Slowly, you gritted out “I’m gonna go to the rec room.” You were gonna head there anyways.

Quickly, you looked under your cot and rummaged around for the – “Shane, where’s the med bag at?” You’d shoved the mp3 player in there. Your brother had been charging it up for you in his Jeep during the drive here. So when you and Glenn were grabbing the essentials to bring inside, well, you’d yanked it off the charging cord as fast as you could before running to the next vehicle.

“On a chair outside the shower room,” he mumbled, hands covering his face. The bottle sat the floor near him. “That way people can take what they need.”

With that, you saw yourself out and headed down the halls until you found your way back to the shower room door. Sure enough, there was a chair next to it on which sat the med bag.

You saw the music player sticking out of the side pocket, grabbed it, and untangled the earbuds as you stormed to the (at the moment, empty) rec room. Leaving the lights off, you laid down on the floor, propped your legs on the couch, put the headphones in, and blasted whatever was already playing when you switched it on.

It was still on the Zeppelin playlist. Your eldest sister had made that playlist. It used to be her mp3 player, actually. She’d upgraded and given this one to you a few years back.

Shane’s favorite playlist, too.

Whatever. You ended up replaying Communication Breakdown on repeat (felt very appropriate) until the lights flicked on and Jacqui walked into the room with her crossword puzzle book.

“Be mindful about blasting the music in your ears too loud, baby. You only got one set,” she gently reminded you as you pulled out the earbuds. Then she waltzed over to the bookshelf just about glowing with anticipation. “Oh Lord, would you look at all these!”

Wasn’t that something? The room was packed with games, a tiki bar, a jukebox – and she beelines for the bookshelf.

Carefully perusing the titles, she mentioned that “Nothing like reading before bed to keep your thoughts reined in. I think we’ll all be needing distractions before sleeping for a good, long while.”

“Amen, ma’am.” Thinking before bed in the before-times was iffy. Thinking before bed nowadays was downright treacherous. Hurt too much.

Reading material selected, Jacqui headed over to the couches, picked her spot, and with the new book beside her, opened up her crossword. “I imagine you need some more quiet just like I do,” she hinted.

You sighed. Resigned, you then asked “Did you hear Shane and I, Miss Jacqui?”

“I showered right after that brother of yours, so I did not – but Glenn mentioned it,” she let you know. Leaning in, she chuckled that “You shoulda seen him, he waitin’ right outside the shower room door like a kid in line for a roller coaster.”

That made you crack up, so you didn’t feel quite so full of dread when you checked “Do you reckon everybody heard us?”

“I’m not certain,” she answered simply. “But it ain’t no big thing either way, we’ve all heard something like it before or done it ourselves. Besides, we’re all family here.” She turns her head to you and eyes the earbuds still blasting music where they lay on the floor beside your head. “Now treat your ears kindly and turn down that music, Y/N.”

Obeying her request, you lowered the volume, then changed the song to a calmer one and let yourself relax and rest your eyes a moment.

Not your best idea, because suddenly, you inhaled and noticed that there was a completely different song on.

And shit, you’d had a weird dream.

Dale and Jim were working on the RV. Dale was trying to pour Southern Comfort into whichever part kept breaking, saying that the alcohol would clean it, while Dr. Jenner told them to conserve the power and not turn on the ignition. Jim kept trying not to swear and was repeating over and over that he was fine. Amy was listening to someone cry over the radio and didn’t know what to do.

But the part with Shane upset you the most. He had driven back to the camp in his Jeep after filling up the water barrels, but then blasted a hole through each one with his shotgun while your mama watched. Then when Jacqui saw what he was doing, she frowned at him and said that they hadn’t drunk any water in days.

That last part must have been because Jacqui was talking to you in real life. “Ah, you’re awake. How about a five-letter word for ‘pheasant relative?’”

“Um...g-grouse?” you guessed, still dazed and trying to blink away the dream.

“That’s six letters, baby; I tried the same,” she mused softly. “Oh! ‘Quail!’” she remembered. “How could I forget those little things? Alright, the next one that’s stumped me is ‘one of seven on a harp.’”

Your mind was still reviewing the details of that dream. Quickly, you tossed a prayer up that you could get some decent sleep tonight without any more dreams like that haunting you.

That’s what you get for thinking too much before crashing, you supposed. Now, what was the wording for the prayer Jim asked you to say, again? “Jacqui?”

She looked up from her book and noted your expression. “What’s on your mind?”

“You remember that long prayer Jim was doing for his family, right?”

Her smile faded. “Of course.” It was a month-long, daily ritual he’d kept.

“I asked him what we should say for him, when we lef...back at the tree. He told me a very short little phrase.”

“How short?”

“Um, ‘Blessed is the true judge. He is full of compassion.’” That was it. Short, right? “Is that part of the longer one he did?”

She seemed to weigh what you told her, then exhaled slowly. Her eyes looked wet. “Dale would know more. He, if I recall, was also raised Jewish. And Theodore might as well, since he started to pray along with Jim in his own way.”

“Okay,” you said softly. You’d ask one of them once they’d had their showers.

Sniffing, Jacqui offered “Alright, how about this one? You’d know this: ‘a cheese in Indian cuisine.’ I believe it starts with a p.”

“Oh, it’s on the tip of my tongue!” you exclaimed. What was it, what was it, what was it...Come on, “Suri and Zee’s mom made that spinach thing with it, it was really good!” Then the lightbulb goes off, and you proudly announced “Paneer!”

“P-a-n-e-e-r?”

Sounded okay to you...“Maybe?”

“Might as well try it! Which means this answer is…well that one is definitely an h, and that answer is ‘Athanasius,’ so this letter is an a, so this word here must be ‘Praha.’ Hm. So that’s how the Czech say ‘Prague.’” Murmuring to herself out loud, she wondered “Why don’t we just call it what they call it? It’s their city in their language. Seems silly to not.”

Her eyes flitted back over to you. “Alright, how about ‘tragus piercing place?’ Is that the ear? Because it is only three letters, but I don’t know what you young things are doing these days. Could be ‘lip’ or ‘gum’ or even the ‘hip’ or ‘jaw.’”

Well, she made you giggle again, God love her.

“And speaking of jaws, Y/N, that bruise is looking like it smarts a bit.”

“But I look very cool with it, right?”

“Cool or fool, both sound the same.”

Again, she made you giggle. “The tragus is this little part of the outer ear that sticks out right here, ma’am,” you showed her. One of the foster siblings who’d lived with you once had that part pierced.

“Thank you much! And speaking of ears now – why you turning up that volume again?” she chided.

You stooped your shoulders slightly. “Nat King Cole. It’s Mona Lisa.” Tilting your head, you held out an earbud. “This song calms me.”

She eyed the earbud. Then her mouth twisted to the side. “Okay, for him, Nina Simone, or Celine Dion I’ll give you a pass, sugar,” she relented. “Let me in there, but let’s turn the volume down to a healthy level.”

After a few songs and several more words correctly guessed (let’s be honest, it was all Jacqui’s knowledge. You peaked at “paneer”), a wet-haired Glenn slumped in to say a very exhausted “Sorry, Y/N, but I gotta hit the sack, dude. Wanted to hang out n’ stuff, but...”

“It’s okay, bud. Foosball can wait until mornin’,” you assured him.

T-Dog’s voice came from the hallway to tell him “It was all that wine, my man, it can get people sleepy.”

“I thought drunk people partied all night. Like, thank God, I’m pretty sure I’m not even gonna dream I’m so tired.”

T-Dog by then was grinning next to Glenn by the door frame. He patted his shoulder a few times and instructed him to “Drink two glasses of water before crashing and take two ibuprofen, okay?”

“Is that Tylenol, T-Dog?”

“Nope, it’s Advil or Motrin. We still got some in the med bag, right Y/N?”

“Yup,” you confirmed.

“’Kay,” Glenn slurred before trudging away. “G’night everybody, g’night Y/N.”

After Glenn was gone, T-Dog sighed that “Sure hope he sleeps okay. Drinking too much causes a longer REM cycle, not a shorter one.”

Soon, Carl also joined you, listened to some music with you for a while (”You got a lot of old stuff like my dad likes.”), then busied himself with an I Spy book from the shelf – and heck yes, you were going to snag that afterwards. That would be a great way to fall asleep without thinking about things.

“Hey punk, where’s your mom and dad?” you casually checked, still trying to figure out what the capital of Oman might be based on what letters you and Jacqui already had.

And yes, you realized what Rick and Lori might could’ve been up to, but that was after asking. Jacqui groaned only slightly, while T-Dog had to clear his throat to hide his laugh.

Lucky for you, Carl hadn’t learned the ins and outs (...pun intended) of that subject just yet. “Dad’s next for the shower, so he’s waiting for mom to finish up. Andrea took a while,” he replied, absorbed in his book.

“I don’t blame her, she needed a long, hot shower,” T-Dog said.

Absent-mindedly nodding and agreeing “Mmhm,” Jacqui suddenly paused and squinted at T-Dog when he next commented “Lord, but did that hot water feel nice.”

“You used the hot water, too?”

His cheeks began to turn a deep shade of rose. “Maybe a little.”

“The man asked us to go easy on the hot water, Theodore. You used how much, then?”

During this playful bickering about the hot water, Carol and Sophia had walked in, which lead to T-Dog announcing his plans to make breakfast in the morning.

And that’s where you are now.

“The Breakfast King is back, bitc – babes,” T-Dog quickly corrects. “Hey now, I didn’t say the cuss fully, you ain’t getting no quarters out of me today, kids.”

Having avoided the only two quarters he has ever neared paying up, he asks “Alright, ready to go?”

That meant it was prayer time, so you and Carol head to the kitchen while T-Dog made his rounds with his usual offer for others to join if they wished. (Hopefully he avoided Rick and Lori’s room.)

He’d begun to do that with the adults in the group back when the camp first formed. Kids were welcome, that goes without saying, but he always made sure that the adults could have an outlet to say things that wouldn’t be suited to little ones’ ears; this one was one of those nights where that outlet was needed. But it all worked out; Sophia and Carl had just entered into a checkers match.

Dale joins the group this time, taking his seat in a chair in between yourself and T-Dog.  He’s still in his bathrobe, actually, and looks very disturbed by something. That makes you frown.

He seemed fine earlier. Was it something with Andrea, maybe?

The doc is in the kitchen, too, but was already sitting alone at the tables. That’s sad as all get-out.

Is it that your group is making him feel unsafe, or was he simply working through something?

“Edwin, how about joinin’ us?” T-Dog asks him.

The doctor’s answer is quiet. “I’ll listen.” Politely, he then responds “Thank you.”

The prayers are always simple and straightforward. Half of it is usually silent intentions and stuff. The rest is praying for the dead and those who were apart from you.

The new names on the list send tears down your cheeks. The Morales family. Amy. Jim.

Dale does help with the prayers for Jim. You started by quietly saying the words that Jim told you, few as they were. You felt self-conscious doing so, but Dale nodded in familiarity when you said the words. Then he takes over, rocking gently and keeping his head down and hands cupped, palms facing inward near his chin as he recites the longer, traditional prayer. Some lines he did in Hebrew, some in English. T-Dog tries to quietly follow along since he knows some of the words while Carol and you keep your heads bowed respectfully.

But when that’s finished, Carol timidly requests prayers for ‘Ed’s soul.’

Hell, you had to pray for your own once you realize how bitter and downright hateful you react internally at hearing the words. Which is precisely why you should do as Carol asked, you suppose.

As if on cue, T-Dog then suggests praying for “Everybody that hurt us or everybody we hurt.” Mentions prayers for Merle again.

Dale requests special prayers for Andrea and Jacqui “and for everybody else struggling with going on.” The doc gets up and leaves, you notice.

 A subconscious shiver went up your spine. You hadn’t expected Jacqui to be struggling with that, of all people. You’d just been with her and hadn’t noticed any signs.

Your own struggles with that had somehow stayed away ever since the outbreaks, believe it or not. So far anyways. Even with how horrifying and hopeless things appeared to be. You’d kept finding something to hold on to and live for, you reckon. Hope is a powerful thing.

Whatever, if it was working, you aren’t fixing to argue with it.

Protecting Carl and your brother seemed to be your goals, at the moment. Well, not “protecting” Shane in a physical sense as much as...you aren’t sure how to describe it. You don’t want to call it protecting his “soul,” that was dramatic. But his personality type is prone to...forgetting his goodness. You love your brother so much, but that’s one of his struggles.

Ugh, the downside to praying is thinking about this shit. Especially so close to bedtime.

“You okay?”

“Just mopin’, Teddy.”

“Wanna share, or call it a special intention?”

“Special intention.” Actually... “Nah, never mind; pray for Shane. please. Y’all saw how he was at supper.”

Carol rubs your hand for a moment, the doctor returns and sits back in his corner, prayers are concluded, and you all stand up to leave.

“That bruise is looking pretty purple,” she quietly murmurs.

To which you obviously have to put a hand to your chest and joke “It looks pretty?”

Smiling and shaking her head, Carol announces that she’s going back to the game room for a while before she and Sophia do their bedtime prayers and get some sleep. “It’ll be nice to get a proper night’s rest in a safe place. I bet we’ll even be able to fall asleep without worrying too much.” Looking over her shoulder, she says “We owe you our lives, doctor. Thank you.”

Hesitant smile, all that he responds with is “You deserved a chance.”

Then he hands you a thin flat packet – is that a heat pack?”

“They stocked us with a ton of those oxygen-activated body warmers,” he tells you. “It’ll help your bruising dissipate faster. Just wrap a t-shirt around it first, since it will get very hot and the skin on the face is generally more sensitive. Just don’t press too hard, since that could irritate the area further.”

“Dr. Jenner, th-thank you!” Your words are failing you.

“Consider it my thank-you as well, for assisting me with the blood samples earlier.” And with that, he seems to dismiss you from the room.

Whatever, you’ll go with the flow – he just gifted you with a heat pack!

You pass Rick in the hallway, who’s still lugging around a wine bottle. He made a happy drunk, though. “Where’s that doc of ours, Y/N? I need to thank him again.”

“Hidin’ in the kitchen,” you whisper, still beaming. “Don’t scare him off, I think he’s a good egg.”

“I won’t. You just have a good night now, troublemaker.”

Oh no, Dale must have mentioned that nickname he’d teased you with. But if Rick had gotten a hold of it, that means it was here to stay. You were barely able to convince him to not call you “weirdo” like Shane does.

Oh poop, and now Rick is giving you that mischievous look because he knows. So, you make a face right back and annoy him with “Nighty-night, then, porkchop.”

You’re about to turn into your room when you hear a rhythmic thudding (no, not that kind of rhythmic thudding). Following the noise and peeking into one of the lecture rooms, you see Daryl leaning in a chair and tossing a ball against the wall.

“Hey.”

He glances over. “Hey.”

*ka-thunk*

“Where’d you find a bouncy ball, Daryl?”

“The office I set up shop in.” *ka-thunk* “Found it on the desk.” *ka-thunk* “They made it outta rubber bands.” 

*ka-thunk*

“Cool.”

*ka-thunk*

“So did y’all have fun singin’ Lord, Send a Revival?” he grates. 

*ka-thunk*

That was kind of rude. Would be rude even if there was singing. It was just a quiet, little prayer circle. Heck, it was even religiously neutral when not all parties in it were of the same faith.

Dryly, you ask “So you’re tellin’ me,” *ka-thunk* “That if we sang that song, you’d wanna join us?”

*ka-thunk* 

Just as dryly, he seems to joke back “Sure, maybe that and some donuts.”

*ka-thunk*

*ka-thunk*

“How long you been at this?”

*ka-thunk*

He makes a tiny shrug. “Dunno.”

*ka-thunk*

With another glance at you, he pauses before tossing the ball again. “Wanna join?”

*ka-thunk*

“Yup.”

[chilling-seavey]

Seasons Change (d.s.) - EPILOGUE

↳  A/N Everything comes to a conclusion. It is whole.

↳ Summary: Everyone knows everything about everyone in this small rural town in east Connecticut and the handsome single father who owns the farm down the main street seems to always be the talk of the town. Balancing the care of his acreage, raising his school-age son, and coaching the local boys’ hockey team keeps Daniel busy; but his mind never strays far from the expansive and vibrant flower gardens planted outside his farmhouse.

↳ Word Count: 2269

↳ Warnings: This story touches on topics such as loss of loved ones and grief. Nothing too detailed but read at your own discretion x

October 19, 2023

Waiting wasn’t an easy task for an active ten-year-old. Lennox’s left leg bounced restlessly with the heel of his sneaker tapping gently against the linoleum floor; a nervous habit he had inherited from his father.

“Yep, you’re certainly a Seavey.”

Lennox glanced over at his uncle who sat on his left and Christian set a hand on his nephew’s knee to still his tapping. The two shared small knowing smiles and Lennox let out a deep breath and shifted in the hard upholstered chair to rest his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands.

“How long has it been?”

“I’m trying not to look at the clock.” Christian said, already turned back to his cell phone in his hand. “Goes by faster that way.”

Lennox turned around to glance at the analog clock on the wall behind them and their row of chairs and huffed as the time shown by the hands wasn’t what he had thought it would be. He turned back around and slouched back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, “I hate waiting.”

“I’d be worried if you enjoyed it.” Christian answered without looking up from his phone.

There was a pause and Lennox counted the ceiling tiles in his head until he nearly had to bend his head and neck over the back of the chair to add up the ones behind him. He spoke to the ceiling, “When’s Nana coming?”

“Once all the craziness is done. I’m only here right now because I had to bring you.” Christian answered.

Lennox hummed in acknowledgment but kept his eyes on the ceiling. They sat side by side in silence as strangers came and went around them and the hands of the clock moved so painfully slowly they were almost going backwards. The space always seemed to house the noise of other patrons or equipment but to Lennox, it felt too terribly silent.

“Uncle Chris.” the ten-year-old sat up straighter with a huff.

“Yeah, buddy?” Christian glanced over at him.

Lennox shifted impatiently, “If I sit still any longer I might explode.”

A smile came to Christian’s face and he patted his nephew’s cheek, “Go grab me a cup of coffee from the stand around the corner.”

Lennox grinned at the offer and he jumped up from his chair and rushed around the row and down the hallway. Despite his craving to move, Lennox didn’t want to miss anything so he nearly ran down the white lined halls and after the signs that led him to the small alcove with the kitchenette for guests. At ten-years-old, Lennox was perfectly average height for his age and able to reach the paper cups on the shelf with only a slight raise onto his tiptoes. He bounced impatiently on the balls of his feet as he poured the watery coffee into the cup for his uncle, stealing glances down the hallway as if he were missing something important.

When the coffee was finally poured, Lennox grabbed a handful of small creamers and packages of sugar and rushed back to the waiting room. He surprisingly didn’t spill a drop. Christian thanked him as he passed over the cup and the handful of cream and sugar packets and he got to making his watery coffee a little more bearable.

Lennox had barely sat back down in his seat when someone came out from the double doors at the end of the hallway nearest to them. His head whipped around to see who it was – it had been a routine reaction since he and his uncle had arrived an hour or so before – and sure enough, it was who he had been waiting for.

Daniel, who looked a little tired and a little shaken but plenty excited, stood at the edge of the waiting room. He sent a knowing smile to his older brother and an even wider one to his son before speaking softly, “Wanna come with me, Spud?”

Lennox didn’t give Christian a second glance before he was jumping out of his chair and hurrying over to his father. Daniel bent down to welcome his son’s hug after almost a full day of being apart and he pet a hand over the back of his hair.

Daniel assured his brother he would return before he took his son’s hand and led him through the double doors and down the hallway from which he came. It felt as if suddenly stepping behind those doors had Lennox’s once eager excitement diminishing to a bit of nervousness and he slowed his walking. Just as they approached the room labeled with their surname on a small whiteboard, Lennox fell to a stop, clutching his father’s hand a bit tighter.

“What’s going on, Spud?” Daniel asked softly.

“I just…need a second.” Lennox mumbled.

Daniel cracked a small smile at the seriousness of his ten-year-old, “Okay.”

There was a pause.

“Dad?”

“Yeah, Spud?”

Lennox shifted in place slightly, “I think I’m ready now.”

“Alright.” Daniel whispered.

He reached out with his free hand to the doorknob and pushed it open slowly, letting Lennox enter first. Lennox stepped inside the hospital room cautiously, taking in the white painted perimeter and the medical equipment along one wall, leading to the single bed that head a slightly frazzled looking Blythe. She smiled over at him and nodded him over and Daniel let his hand fall out of his son’s as Lennox stepped farther into the room.

Daniel stayed close behind as Lennox stopped at the side of the bed and let his eyes fall on the bundle of white blankets that rested in Blythe’s arms. The ten-year-old bit lightly at his bottom lip, trying to hide the smile that was growing over his face, and he looked up at her quietly.

“You can come up here if you want.” Blythe permitted.

Lennox climbed onto the bed and shifted around to sit beside her a bit clumsily behind his nervousness and Daniel reached over to adjust the flimsy pillows behind them, “Careful, Spud.”

“I know.” Lennox mumbled, shrugging off his father’s concern as he sat himself down carefully on the hospital bed.

He had been given step-by-step preparation of what he was going to expect from that very day that had been booked on the calendar for a few weeks. Lennox was one who worked best with being prepared and Daniel knew this well. As taught and practiced, the ten-year-old held out his arms and Daniel tucked a pillow underneath for a bit more support. Moving cautiously, Blythe shifted slightly to place the warm bundle into Lennox’s waiting grasp and Daniel helped a bit to keep her from moving too uncomfortably.

Lennox’s eyes went wide as the baby was rested in his arms, so small in size but weighted just enough to feel so real. He stared down at the little squished face tucked under the tiny white hat and wrapped up in a matching blanket and he felt absolutely speechless. The newborn, only barely more than an hour old, was sleeping soundly.

“What do ya think, Spud?” Daniel asked quietly, standing right at his side with a protective hand resting on the bar frame of the hospital bed.

Lennox blinked, unable to tear his eyes from the baby for even a second as he tried to word his response, “He’s…he’s…nice.”

“He’s nice?” Daniel chuckled, sharing a smile with Blythe over the boy’s head.

“He’s very nice.” Lennox whispered, figuring out how to express his thoughts. “He’s smaller than I thought. He’s cute.”

“Isn’t he?” Blythe gushed, cuddling a little closer to Lennox and he smiled at her before looking back down at his new baby brother.

“Can I kiss him?” Lennox asked.

“Of course.” Daniel reached over to help tuck the soft blanket out of the way of the newborn’s face. Lennox carefully leaned down, raising his arms up slightly, and pressed a gentle kiss to the baby’s forehead. Blythe and Daniel shared small silent glances infused with nothing but raw adoration for their little family as the boys met for the very first time.

“He smells so good.” Lennox whispered.

“That new baby smell.” Daniel said, “I couldn’t stop smelling your little head when you were born.”

“Look.” Blythe breathed, reaching out a hand to untie the swaddled blanket and let it fall open, revealing the little curled up legs and arms of the small baby. “Look how tiny his fingers are.”

Lennox beamed, watching carefully as Blythe slid her pinky into the newborn’s palm and he wrapped his hand around it. He had held babies before, mostly his younger cousins here and there, but nothing like this. This was different. This was his brother.

Now out of the warmth of the swaddle, the baby started to stir, whimpering slightly and squirming into a small stretch. Lennox made sure to hold him snugly – he was already a little nervous enough to risk anything – and gave him a little shush and a little bounce.

“You’re a natural, Spud.” Daniel smiled, his voice soft as he blinked back the tears brimming in his eyes.

Lennox turned to Daniel quickly, “Dad! You need the video camera!”

“Right!” Daniel snapped his fingers and stood up straighter, “How do I keep forgetting that?”

As Daniel hurried across the room to the packed bag resting on the sofa, Blythe leaned her head down against Lennox’s and the two of them quietly watched the newborn as he slept.

“Do you love him?” she asked quietly while Daniel pressed record on the well loved video camera and directed it towards the hospital bed.

Lennox nodded, “Yeah. I can’t wait to show him how to play hockey.”

“In a few years.” Blythe chuckled tiredly. “And you’re so much older than him so you’re gonna be like his own personal protector, right?”

“Yeah.” Lennox agreed easily and leaned down again carefully to kiss his baby brother’s head. “What name did you guys pick?”

“You sure you wanna know?” Blythe teased.

“Yes!” Lennox pushed. “I need to know his name.”

“Really? You don’t want to just call him ‘baby brother’?”

“Blythe.” Lennox huffed, causing Daniel to grin from behind the camera.

“Okay.” Blythe shifted in anticipatory preparation, her finger still claimed by the newborn, “His name is Flint Constantine Seavey.”

Lennox’s eyes went wide and he looked between his father and his stepmother and his new baby brother in shock, “That’s the coolest name ever.”

“Think so?” Blythe chuckled. “I’m glad you’re on board.”

“Yeah.” Lennox agreed.

“I picked his first name but Blythe can take the credit for the middle name.” Daniel spoke form behind the camera.

“Flinny.” Lennox cooed down to the baby still resting in his arms. “You have a cooler name than me.”

The adults shared sweet smiles as the boys were introduced and Lennox fell head over heels like he never knew was possible. It was this strange sort of feeling, being ten and a half years apart, as he held such a tiny person in his arms and somehow it filled his chest with nothing but the warmest feeling. Lennox felt protective and in love from the start, sitting there in the hospital bed and holding his new baby brother for over an hour until the newborn nearly had to be pried from his grip to be fed. He was truly a natural.

As Blythe had her privacy to feed the baby, Lennox and Daniel stepped out into the hallway for a moment. Lennox easily grabbed his father’s hand and they walked slowly back towards the waiting room, just to stretch their legs. They walked in silence for a bit and Daniel waited to let his son speak first. It was a lot to take in after all.

The two found a small alcove on the side of the hallway right by a window overlooking downtown Hartford and they sat side by side on the small two-seater sofa. Daniel wrapped his arm around his eldest’s shoulders and pressed a kiss to his head. Lennox leaned against his shoulder quietly…thinking. Lennox was always thinking.

Finally, after a few short moments, he spoke, “Dad, I was…scared that when the baby was born that everything would be different and not be as good.”

Daniel glanced at him, “You were? You never told me.”

“I know.” Lennox shrugged. “But you were happy and...I dunno. But now…I don’t think I’m scared. I was scared that I wouldn’t feel anything because he’s not Mommy’s but…my heart felt so warm when I was holding him.”

Daniel smiled, “Of course. He may not be Mommy’s but he’s still ours, right? He’s still your brother no matter what.”

Lennox nodded, cuddling closer to his father, “I’m glad I have a brother.”

Daniel held him tighter, whispering against his hair, “I’m glad I could give you a brother.”

They sat quietly together, just taking that moment to themselves in the light of the late afternoon sunshine leaking in through the large paned window. Lennox glanced down at his father’s left arm wrapped around his shoulders and he lifted his hand up to dust over the marigold tattoo still inked flawlessly into the skin of his forearm. Daniel let him, knowing his son found comfort in it just as much as he did himself.

“Mommy would have given anything to give you a brother or sister.” Daniel spoke softly to his son, “We both would have…and I guess we did. But part of me thinks that now…after everything…and with you so much older…that it’s even better this way. You can be there for him and help to guide him and love him and protect him.”

Lennox nodded gently in agreement, tracing the curves of the petals on the tattooed marigold across his father’s forearm. He was happy but part of him felt a little guilty. Lennox turned to Daniel again and spoke before he could second-guess, “You can say no but…can we bring Flint to meet Mommy?”

Daniel smiled softly and brushed his son’s messy brown hair from his face, “Why would I say no to that?”

“Because he’s not Mommy’s baby. I don’t want Blythe to think that she’s not- that I don’t-…I dunno.” Lennox looked to the ground shyly.

“You’re sweet for asking, Spud, and for thinking about Blythe like that.” Daniel complimented, “But I’m sure she’d have no problem if you want to show Flint to Mommy. I think she’d be very proud that you want to do that.”

“Really?” Lennox looked up at him again.

“I mean I’m sure Mommy can see us now…I’m sure she was staying with you while you waited and watching over me and over Blythe when the baby was born. She’s always with us, you know that. I swear I can feel her there with me sometimes too. But I like your idea…to really introduce them. Maybe we can pack a picnic and have lunch with her in a few days, okay?”

Lennox smiled softly and nodded in agreement.

The boys shuffled closer and rested their heads together gently as they gazed out the window at Hartford for a few more moments. As the afternoon sun dropped closer to the horizon, the stark white hospital hallway was dipped in dancing hues of oranges and pinks and yellows and the warmth sunk into their skin. Lennox shut his eyes and breathed deeply, held by his father and eased into comfort by the light of the sun. The ten-year-old could feel his heart in his chest, beating strongly, and each cell in his body tingling beautifully under the familiarity of the two people he loved most in the world.

With a soft voice, Lennox told his father quietly, “I feel Mommy with me too.”

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