#I’ve just been using my phone’s data for internet these past few weeks

[floral-hex]

Moved into this apartment and only had 1mbps internet, which is… bad. good luck watching anything.

Called yesterday and they said they could only pump it up to 7.5mbps due to the building’s wiring, which is a tiny bit better and I suppose I’ll take what I can get for now just so I can actually use the internet.

A few hours later, I’m now sitting on a whopping 768kbps plan at $40 a month, which is absolute bullshit! WHAT!? I didn’t even know you could get internet that slow! What happened?? I might as well go back to dial-up. And $40! Is that my idiot tax for trusting them?

Just give me decent internet, please, I beg you 😫

[keltonwrites]

I'm not sure if that's a good thing

“Well you’re definitely the first.” This past week, we screened-in the eastern facing porch on the side of the cabin. The porch slopes to the South, with the brick-on-dirt floor crumbling in that direction as well until it reaches uneven slabs of stone acting as steps down to the “yard” below. A mixed material retaining wall wraps beneath the steps to the south facing garage, holding up one corner of the narrow deck on the front of the house. The deck, in the heat of a high altitude summer, droops off the house like it’s daydreaming about the winter snow’s embrace. It’s safe to sit on, though I would not recommend leaning on the railing.

The side porch takes the brunt of the wind. Our wooden rocking chairs have been rocked some 20 feet into the yard more than once in the two months we lived here. In the myriad of threats we heard about the weather, most people included the wind. We all know how I feel about this ongoing weather intimidation tactic. I asked, “what speed are the gusts?” “Oh, they get up to 70 miles per hour on some days.” This was the first quantifiable piece of weather information someone had offered — an actual number we could react to with data and our historical personal experiences of various weather events. And our reaction was: uhhhh…. OK???? Look, I get it. No one’s preaching the skin benefits of -20 degree wind gusts at 70 mph, building snow drifts against your house in the span of minutes that Cooper could die in. I am not going to pretend that’s pleasant. But 70 mph? Any wind I’ve driven faster than does not intimidate me. I used to rally the horses at 12 years old in winds over 70mph to get them in the barn before the latest tornado whipped through. I helped shutter the resort in the BVI as the Category 5 hurricane rolled in. Even in Topanga, 70 mile per hour gusts were not uncommon in Santa Ana events. We had our single pane windows shatter more than once from debris in the wind. We taped cardboard up and went to sleep. That “70 mph” was all I needed to hear to confirm our next project: we were going to build a catio for these cats, and we were going to do it on the pre-existing porch structure to save time and money. We spent a week framing out the structure. We had to carve into the logs of the house to embed the wood supports for the framing.

And from there, every piece of wood was custom carved and cut to fit around the existing timber supports. The existing porch was so wildly uneven that there are gaps between each piece of old wood and the new framing. Our plan is to mix all the wood chips from the project with mortar/chinking and stuff the gaps — a good solution for the log cabin look. We built a plywood pony wall up to 28 inches from the interior of the porch, which gives a height of ~4-5ft from the exterior ground below. It’s capped with a 2x6” railing for even the fluffiest of cats to find a perch. The exterior will be wrapped with corrugated metal that we’ll quick-age to match the metal that wraps the bottom of the cabin. On the interior of the porch, we’ll use shiplap to hide the framing.

The screens themselves can withstand winds up to 120 mph, but to-be-determined if they can hold the weight of a growing maniac cat who has already tried to climb them. In the event the screens succumb to cat (or wind or snow or neighbor judgment) we’ll reinforce with metal mesh. We’re going to maintain this screen porch regardless of what the screen is. We had the pleasure of running into one of our more industrious neighbors the other day, and Ben asked him, “hey we’re building a screen porch. Is this a terrible idea?” He laughed. “Well you’re definitely the first.” But he liked it. Great way to diminish wind into the house. Simple way to regulate the temperature with massive south-facing windows. And indeed a practical outdoor safe haven for cats in predator territory. Just because you’re the first doesn’t mean you’re foolish — just foolhardy. There’s plenty of that here. This town has the typical mountain town’s truncated version of a colonizers’ history: “established 1881.” But it was plenty established prior to that by the Uncompahgre Band of the Ute Nation, removed by the U.S. Army on September 7, 1881, nearly 140 years ago. The government relocated the Uncompahgre Ute People to Utah, and one year after the Ute were forcibly removed from their ancestral land, San Miguel County split off from Ouray County and was made its own political subdivision in the newly-formed State of Colorado. In 1879, the ore-laden valley already had 50 people living in it, with a new narrow gauge railway only 2 miles away. By 1885, it was a town of 200 people. There was a hotel, a couple saloons, a pool hall. Winters were treacherous; the valley was and is prone to avalanches. But where there’s gold, there’s gumption. The power needed to run the stamp mill to process ore drove innovation. Timber was scarce at such high elevations, so a wood powered steam mill wouldn’t cut it. But the San Miguel River just a few miles down from the mine looked promising. Thus began the development and construction of the Ames Hydroelectric Generating Plant. It was a hit. In fact, it was so successful that the Ames Plant led to the adoption of alternating currents at Niagara Falls and eventually to being adopted worldwide as a viable power solution. The plant remains, but the gold rush obviously didn’t. By 1940, the U.S. Census declared this little town I call home as tied for the lowest population in the country: 2 people. By 1960, it was one of four incorporated towns in the U.S. with no residents. But the joke was on the Census — the town’s single resident was just out of town the day the census came through. 1960 population: 1. By 1980 the population grew to 38, 69 in 1990, and about 180 now. (Plus 51 dogs according to the town’s website.) With modern amenities, it’s easier to be here. Studded snow tires, satellite internet, solar panels, instant coffee. No matter the hardships, there’s the reality of the present. In the 1880s, as the town boomed, the Ouray Times declared, “it will be at no distant day a far more pretentious town than it is now.” That day hasn’t exactly arrived, but I guess it depends on what you consider pretentious. I don’t think the town claims any airs of excellence beyond what’s true. In fact, the town hardly claims anything at all. There’s no sign indicating it’s even here. There’s just the old side and the new side. The new side, the Eastern half, was drawn out in the early 1990s, some 100 years later, and is separated from the Old Town by an avalanche zone—preserved open space for hiking in the summer, preserved open space for surviving in the winter. The town forbids short-term rentals, no one has a fence, dogs roam free, and all the houses have that cabin look to them. A boulder nests in a grove near a trailhead in the center of town with a plaque paying respect to the Utes who called this valley home. There’s no industry here. No businesses allowed. If you want a $7 latte, you can drive the 14 miles required to get it, assuming there’s not an avalanche blocking your path. You can, however, buy a pink lemonade in a

solo cup at the permanent lemonade stand run by the local feral child mafia. Crystals (rocks) can be purchased for an additional cost. We bought one, hoping to buy favor at the same time. The town plan has a few guiding principles, and it’s all in the name of preservation. We must preserve: 1 - the quiet atmosphere 2 - the rustic character 3 - the natural setting

And finally: 4 - protect the health and wellbeing of the people here No snowmobiles, no ATVs, no drones. In fact, the only sign of the outside world here are the passers-through. When you take the dirt road through town to the end, you enter National Forest, and you can hike over the pass saddle at nearly 12,000 feet before descending down the other side into Silverton. The pass road climbs rutted through an aspen forest before scaling across a scree field and then lurching over to the other side. Every day, it seems like 30 or so Texans and Arizonans in lifted and loud Jeeps with unused mods climb over this mountain in the comfort of their air conditioning, simply to drive down the other side. You could hike it, ride it, run it, and ski it, but they don’t. They rev their engines, kicking up dust in a town of feral children and roaming dogs, staring at us instead of waving. I’ve lived here for two months and look how salty I am. I’ll fit in yet. But today, there is a temperature that whispers of perfect trails and the dwindling of ogglers driving 35 in a 15. It’s already snowed in the mountains we see from our kitchen. Today, like a dedication to the Septembers of our youth, you can feel a chill in the air. A temperature akin to pencils and sweaters and reinventing yourself. A temperature that doesn’t exactly sing “screen porch” but could if you had the right slippers on. That’s what I did this morning: put my slippers on and sat there in the cool mountain morning air, thinking about the cemetery behind our house, about the Ute tribe, about the miners, about the mailman who died on Christmas in 1875 on the pass, about the 5 people who died in avalanches here just last year, about the people in their cars on their phones driving through, and all the people who’s very first question to us was, “so are you gonna live here part-time or full-time?” Maybe it will be a hard place to live. But at least we’ll have a screen porch.

Every week I'm writing about moving to log cabin in a small town at 10,000 feet. Subscribe here for free: tinyletter.com/keltonwrites

[whump-it]

Rory’s Audit; Part 1

@haro-whumps @grizzlie70   @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @iaminamoodymoodtoday @burtlederp @my-whumpy-little-heart @moose-teeth @pepperonyscience @faewhump @crowned-avery @whump-tr0pes @spookyboywhump @finder-of-rings @liliability @whumpfigure @girlwithacoolcat @tears-and-lilies @inpainandsuffering @whumpfigure @whumppsychology @ashintheairlikesnow

The Collection Box had been quiet again just recently.  The usual ebb and flow of the seasons.  It was normal.  It happened ever year without fail.  But Rory still felt a little nervous about the impending visit from his boss.  They hadn’t had much cause to interact often since Rory had started working for the Programme.  Mr Newman spent most of his time at the Locality Facility, only rarely stopping by to clap Rory on the shoulder and tell him that he “ran a tight ship”.  And then he was gone again for months on end.  It was partly why Rory had become so organised in the first place; there was no one there to help him or tell him what to do so he kept rigorous notes, took excellent care of the Locality Box, and kept the equipment in top notch condition, always replacing it before it really needed it.

Rory loved his job and he felt as sure as he could that he was good at it.  His BP were always calm and content.  His Selectors often sent thank you cards or photos of themselves with their BP over the years.  Not all of them did but a good enough amount did to reassure him that the system was helping a huge amount of people.  And it paid for him to be able to keep a roof over his head.  Bills paid on time.  Food bought.  A little to go aside into savings every few months. 

All in all, a visit from his boss, especially one preceded by a gruff sounding and very short phone call was a concern.   He both loved, and needed his job.

So in the few hours prior to the visit he had spent time cleaning everything.  Making his Collection Box into the best damn box that the world had ever seen.  He vacuumed.  He dusted.  He damp dusted.  He swept.  He had one BP in who was taking the chance to have a midday sleep after Rory had checked that they were comfortable and full, not needing the toilet or not feeling unwell.  He apologised for all of the noise that he was making and tried to keep it down now that they were sleeping. 

“Boss man coming in or something?” they’d joked at him.

“Actually yes,”  Rory had said.  The BP had frowned.

“Don’t look so nervous,” they had said.  “I’ll tell them how good it is here.”

The memory of the little exchange had kept the edge off Rory’s panic for most of the morning, until the knock at his door came and caused an uncomfortable leap up in his heart, thudding in his chest.  He rubbed his palms down the legs of his trousers in an attempt at not having sweaty palms in time to shake his boss’s hand.  It certainly made turning the doorknob to his office door into an easier task.

“Mr Newman,” Rory said, a smile on his lips that didn’t quite meet his eyes as he tried to inject a light hearted tone to his voice.  “Good to see you again.”  He shifted back out of the way of the door before remembering that he had meant to shake hands.  He stuck his hand out as Mr Newman walked through the door, effectively slapping his boss in the stomach as he did so.  Mr Newman stopped at the slap of Rory’s hand and looked down at the offending appendage.  Rory winced and slowly brought his hand back to his own side. 

“Sorry,”  he said.  “Awkward.”  He could feel his face heating up as Mr Newman stood and regarded him with one eyebrow raised as he sighed.  “Ok, come on in!”  Mr Newman walked past him, and Rory shut the door, wincing and muttering to himself to stop being such an idiot before straightening up, tugging his hand through his hair, fixing his smile back on his face and going to sit at his desk.

"Look," Mr Newman said, sitting down and waving a hand impatiently at Rory, hurrying him up. "I'll keep this simple. We need to run an audit; you need to run an audit. State ordered. No wiggle room."

"Ok?" Rory said, leaning back then sitting forward. Awkward. Uncertain.

"Don't play the idiot," Mr Newman snapped. "The rumour mill's been working up to this and there's no way that even you, isolated as you've made yourself out here, there's no way that you haven't heard anything." Rory held his nerve. Held his silence. He wanted more certainty from his boss.  Mr Newman sighed and crossed one leg over the other, ankle to knee.  “The young BP, Rory.  Some girl has come out saying that she was kept and abused by some drug lord, drug baron.  Whatever.  Look, they should’ve sent her down with him but somehow she got off all the charges.  It was her money he was using.”

“Well,” Rory said, the tiniest hint of a shake to his voice.  A fraction of nerves amongst the knowledge that what he was about to say was going to be right.  “It was his money once she was Selected so, technically, she had no control over what he did.”

“So you have heard,”

“Well....”

“Stop saying ‘well’ all the time,”

“I’ve heard,”  Rory said.  His inner monologue had been aching over the rumours.  Pining.  The scabbed-over wound that Callum Morrow’s appearance and subsequent Selection had left was fresh and bleeding again.  But with only a rumour to go on, he had set it to one side. And burned and ached.  But he had put it to the back of his mind, stamped it down.  Callum was fine.  Callum was happy.  His Selector checked out.  It was one rumour. 

“We, apparently, can’t “go on turning a blind eye” anymore.  Or so the Givernment are saying.  Some internet forum or some other rubbish.  I don’t know.  But people are starting to kick up trouble.  Not the BP I may add.  The girl has gone quiet.  No other BP are whining.  But the powers that be don’t like how it looks.  We’ll come out of it fine.  But I need you to do that audit.  And I want to see the results first.  Got it?”

“Got it,” Rory muttered.  The voice in his head kept getting louder.  Callum Callum Callum.  A scar that had suddenly stopped healing.  Sutures tearing out.  Mr Newman glared at him.

“You better have “got it”,” he said, as he stood and turned his back on Rory, walked to the door.  “How long is this likely to take?”

“Um,” Rory mentally shook himself.  Callum Callum Callum.  Be ok.  Be ok.  “Not long.  I only have one under twenty five ever come through here.  Don’t ever get any under about forty actually.”

“So...?”  Mr Newman flapped one hand at him, the other already turning the doorknob.

“Give me a week,” Rory said.  “I keep good records.”  His attention was already wandering further and further from his boss and drifting to his laptop and his filing cabinet.  His data sticks and his photographs.  He heard Mr Newman’s terse goodbye but not the words.  The banging shut of the door jolted his attention to the buzzing silence of the room around him.  “Fuck.”  He hissed the word out into the room, pulling at his hair, rubbing at his face.  Dashing away at tears that he had not realised were even beginning to gather.  He felt pulled in too many different directions.  There was too much to do and too many places to start.  He snatched up a piece of paper and started to write.  He needed a list.  A plan.  A way to channel his thoughts so that they wouldn’t get away from him.  He needed to produce an audit.  Please his boss.  Keep the only source of money that he had. 

He needed Callum to be ok.  More than all of those things, he needed Callum to be ok.

The list grew.  It flowed out from his pen.  He forced himself to write alowly and neatly.  Mistakes could not be a part of this.  And rushing wouldn’t achieve anything.  The very first thing on his list read ’look after current BP’.  He took a deep breath in and out, and carried on.  ‘Laptop’, ‘data stick 3ii’, ‘file copy Callum Morrow’, ‘file copy Hayden Reeve’.  He wrote down the websites and databases that would hold the answers to the questions that he was forming and solidifying in his mind.  ‘Postal Service’, ‘GIS’, ‘MapReader’. 

At the very bottom he wrote ‘You’ve got one week to get him’.

[aggresivelyfriendly]

Tis the Damn Season

Chapter Five- Santa Baby

Hello, I took a couple weeks, because life can be busy, and mine is changing, but here is a little 🎁!

Thanks to @dirtystyles, she’s the real gift!

"What are you wearing?"

"I'm sorry, but what?"

 It was all she could think to say. Emma hadn't heard from Harry in months. In August he had sent her a random picture of him in a collar with long hair. She knew he had chopped his hair months ago, it had caused an internet flurry and was one of the few times he'd emerged from hibernation. She might be miffed that his year-off apparently didn't include visiting her. Not that she had asked him to.

She'd never ask.

Emma might also be incredibly miffed that he had cut off his glorious hair. She'd rocked herself to sleep many a night thinking of the way it felt trailing ver her chest, then stomach, in the crevice of her thigh. The crunch and silk of it between her fingers when she got it between her fingers at the end of that path or when he was rocking her to sleep.

Thinking about his hair usually made her hot for him, and thinking of it gone made her nostalgic, and a little mad. And that was when the memory was fresh and jot months old.

In any case, she wasn't feeling very soft for him, and that was a sexy question. She definitely wasn't feeling wet for him.

She had just walked out of class on a freezing cold day before she was ready for it to be this chilly, and she had to ride her bike. Her class was on individual contribution to global crises. Emma was the first to point out that individuals were not the true climate change culprits, but every bit helped. She just wished she'd ridden one of the clean energy buses today. Today sucked.

"Your teeth are chattering Emma, you outside?" she made an affirmative sound and he wisely knew better than to wait for an answer after that. He'd set up this mood, after all. "Sorry, came out wrong, it was meant to be funny." Harry had an apology in his voice. It was like the first knead of a dough, but he had a long way to go. "Anyway, what I meant is, I'm Christmas shopping, and I was thinking about what you might like, was gonna get you a jumper, and I think I have an idea of your style, but wanted a little guidance, I'd hate to buy you something and have you hate it—"

"Harry, take a breath!" She could feel that smile he had a way of bringing to her lips, despite herself. She really wanted to be upset with him, but seemed he'd proved himself, or distracted her at least.

Emma can't quite get a full grasp on why she's irritated with the phone call with him.  She's not sure what she expected. They never had a conversation about it, about how they are just a little holiday fling. She's never even had a summer fling, so she doesn't know the rules but she assumes that they are not supposed to repeat year on year. Least not without some progress or a defining conversation where they decided on not a relationship. He was confusing. He'd been so happy to have a bit of extra time with her, she'd thought he might be in touch more, with his seemingly abundant free time. She's wanted him to be in touch more. But he hadn't.

She'd heard from him less than ever.

And now he was buying her gifts and making her smile. Damn him.

"I'm breathing, promise." He sighed. "I just could tell I'd pissed you off, and I don't want to. I've been thinking about Christmas, and well, I'm excited."

"I'm excited too. Holidays are exciting." Emma is not going to read into that. He's excited to be with his family. He's Christmas shopping for everyone. This is not about her, them.

There is no them.

There is no them, except between Christmas Eve and New Years. And that is purely physical.

These are the things she repeated to herself when she was sad, waiting for him to call or text. Sad from how he dragged himself from their pub bed saying he'd miss her and be in touch and then wasn't. His sweet nothings were like when people signed your yearbook K.I.T. She knew you weren't supposed to take those yearbook signings seriously, but he'd said it, not written it below some picture of him. That counted more, right? Than a picture? Those were cheap, especially of him; there were pictures of him everywhere, Emma was also upset that none of them looked like the real life him. Just a shade of his actual beauty.

She wanted to see him now. She missed him though she shouldn't.

Just over a month now until Christmas. And a busy one at that. She had so much data to sift through from the summer and a presentation she was basing on it was her culminating project. It would also make an early start on her field work come summer. Those things, academic, important things were her focused her life's work. Not delicious Harry Styles and his sweet holiday nothings.

"Yes, especially when I get my favorite for Christmas." Harry said bringing her back to the call they were on.

The meaning behind those words were a bit harder to ignore. All she could get out was "Oh?" Then she rolled her eyes at herself and cleared her throat and said, "Your mum's Christmas cake?"

He chuckled. "I am fond of that cake, I think I put on two stone last year from how much I ate. And she sent me home with one!"

Emma almost called bullshit on that. He'd expended all those calories, she'd been the apparatus.

She took a breath to speak, and he cut her off. "I don't mean the cake, anyway, I mean you: you're my favorite thing to have at Christmas. The best gift."

What was she supposed to say to that? Another eloquent oh? Instead she said, "Your favorite thing?" Playful offense on the word thing.

"Oh hush." He laughed. "You're my favorite, Emma. In case you want to be obtuse and miss my point. I'm very excited to see you."

She breathed in. All she could manage to reply with was "Me too."

She meant it, but as they got off the phone after setting up their usual tryst and a special meeting before the party to exchange gifts, she couldn't help but wonder if he did. If what he said was true, why the radio silence?

The gift on her lap on the train was large and ostentatious. She didn't have a ton of money for the it, student life, but her recipient was a millionaire, so she'd gone all out on the wrapping paper.

It was a frog in a Christmas hat, the motif on the paper. Emma remembered when she and Gemma had called Harry "frog boy" and he'd been mortified. But it had also found its way into their private rooms. Not when he was inside her, that would be weird, but when he looked up at her and grinned, all dimples and no teeth from where he likes to make her stomach a pillow.

How "Froggy" had become a term of endearment, she didn't know. The moment she'd seen the cute froggy in his holiday rig on the overpriced paper, she had stopped what she was doing, parked her bike with no lock, and popped in the shop.

She then had to find something to put in the paper. He'd been shopping for her this year, in October, and he'd said he was at the shop and she'd seen pictures of him hauling bags out of Gucci. That was not intimidating at all.

They had exchanged small things in years past. Harry had started it, he'd given a cookbook a friend recommended the year she went vegan. Then the next year he'd donated in her name to a clean air initiative. She'd just picked up odds and ends she thought he'd like, like a 100% recycled journal one year and a glass bottle set for his gym runs the next.

This year, she'd racked her brain, but she'd eventually found the perfect gift to fill her frog paper. She was getting better at this. He was entirely too good at it, and he was a quick learner. She'd been underwhelmed with the flowers he sent the first year and had explained that cut flowers made her sad. It seemed a waste to kill something for its fleeting beauty. Harry had nodded thoughtfully.

The next flower he sent was a gorgeous orchid, it arrived once she was back in Amsterdam and came with instructions. That first orchid had started a trend and between his gifts and her own new interest, her flat was looking very jungle esque.

Emma was always very excited to see him, but this year, after his call, there was more anticipation and preparation. If he was going to be ready for her, she would be ready for him.

She got a fresh haircut and trimmed her bush. The thrift store was kind to her, and her new Christmas jumper was perhaps less ugly than flattering, but that was ok with her. She particularly liked the way it lay over the skirt she'd planned to wear to the Twist's annual todo.

Her flights had been uneventful and her mother was elated and doting. Emma found it much more tolerable this year. Maybe she was just in the spirit, or maybe she'd been away from the village and her family long enough to actually miss them.

She definitely missed Harry.

He, predictably, had texted that his flight was delayed and he was trying to make arrangements, but he might not even make it in time for the party.

"I'm doing everything in my power to get there tonight. If I can't make my mother's party, but arrive tonight, can we meet? I'll call the inn."

"Yes." Was all she texted back. She found she was mourning their kiss beneath the mistletoe, and that he might miss her outfit. But Harry's power was considerable, and she had no doubt he would be at the Boar's Head in time to see what she planned to wear under the sweater.

Those pieces, she felt a twinge guilty about. They were pricey and definitely not second hand. Used pants were where she drew the line.

People, not Emma, bemoaned Harry's absence when those who still lived local or were able to travel home gathered for toast. Emma knew she wasn't the only one who came home partially to see Harry. It was why she was able to fly under Gem's radar, hopefully.

Gemma's only comment was, "He'll be here when he can." When Eloise asked where Harry was. She asked every year, it annoyed Gem, and took some of the heat off Emma. Eloise was so obvious, Gemma could direct some of her protective big sister vibes that way.

The night was winding down and Emma's third glass of champagne could use topping up. She'd just sidled into the kitchen to pop another bottle when a pair of arms came around her from behind.

She'd have dropped the bottle too if Harry had not pulled the most uncharacteristicly smooth and agile catch he'd ever made, whilst dipping her for a swoon worthy kiss.

"Harry!" Emma gasped, "What are you doing?" Her Hand went to find his hair, and she was sad to find it until she found his sharp, bare jaw instead. It cut through her nostalgia and she was able to appreciate his face on a new way. His lips.

"Getting my midnight kiss!"

"It's not New Year's." It was better, like new year's and her birthday combined, that kiss.

"Not yet!" He righted her but stayed wrapped around her while she popped the bottle. She poured him a glass too and had to refrain from holding his hand when she pulled him into the living room after they toasted.

He stole a kiss before they went to join the others.

It looked like his arrival was going to renew the party spirit, but he begged off as tired, and disappeared to his room by 1:30.

Emma wasn't sure what to do, or where to go, so she just slipped out the back at 2:00 when a car nearly gave her heart palpitations by pulling up right in front of her. The door popped open and Harry stuck his head out. "Cmon, it's our getaway car!"

She couldn't help but shake her head. "You disappeared and I didn't know what you wanted to do."

"Well, you obviously!" He giggled, high off the champagne and his conniving. "C'mon! We don't have that long. I wanna do Christmas morning with you!"

"It's still nighttime." Emma pointed out.

"Don't worry, we'll find something to do until the sun comes up." He looked up at her through his lashes and she couldn't help but bite her lips.

"What's the rush, Styles?" Emma asked as she climbed into the car. The driver seemed unconcerned and headed down the familiar lanes of a familiar place.

"No rush, I'm just excited and have to be back so I can sneak in for Christmas brunch."

"Oh." She knew that, it wasn't the first time.

"Not 'oh,' I want to give you your gifts on actual Christmas."

"Are you Santa Claus?" She teased as he pulled her into his chest.

"If that's what you're into? I'll be whoever you want me to be."

"Then just be you." She said with painful earnestness before she could stop herself.

Harry looked down at her in the cradle of his armpit and put his forehead to hers and gave her an Eskimo kiss. "As long as you're you."

Emma melted and if she hadn't been so tired and a little too drunk on bubbly she wouldn't have fallen asleep on the way to the Boar's Head.

"Baby," Harry whispered into her hair. "Wake up, we're here."

"I can't believe I fell asleep that fast."

"It's my voice, I've been told it has a sedative power."

"Sleepy is not usually how your voice makes me feel." What truth serum had she taken tonight?

"Well, I'll have to talk a lot to keep you up then. Hope you're refreshed after your little nap."

She was, and he kept her up but by 5:00, even his deep voice and other powers of persuasion couldn't keep her leaden lids open.

"Baby! Emma." Harry was kissing her awake and holding out a shirt for her slip on while slipping socks up her calves. "Present time."

"Ok, Santa baby." She yawned and let him drag her into the room where she had completely missed the tiny Charlie Brown tree in the corner. "Oh! You went all out." She looked at him in awe when she noticed the multicolored packages under the tree. "I only got you one thing," she was rubbing sleep out of her eyes and too tired to bullshit. "I'm feeling inadequate."

"Nah, I've heard it's better to give than receive."

"That's not what you said a couple hours ago."

"I'll give gifts if you give head." They both scrunched their brows. "Scratch the part where I made it sound like you were my sugar baby."

"Or a prostitute."She raised an arch brow.

"Nah, I couldn't afford you." He didn't even smirk.

So she responded, "I think you think that's a compliment."

He snort laughed and she couldn't help but smile with him. "I mean, you do it well enough to be paid for it, but by the face you're making I better quit talking and get to the spoiling to get myself out of trouble. Go on, open a present."

"Any order you envisioned."

"Um? No, the one where order matters I have a plan for."

"This isn't all?"

"This is most." He nodded and she felt a warm place under her breast that only ignited when he was being domestic.

Back in her old room in her childhood home, or in her flat in Amsterdam, she'd occasionally puzzle over these moments. They felt nothing short of boyfriendy, and she loved it. When she thought back on them, especially in the cold January days, they kept her warm and made her feel special. She hadn't ever felt that warm flush in her chest with anybody but Harry. She'd kind of avoided the feeling, usually.

By July, after long periods of silence where he was running around the world while she endeavored to save it, the glow of those days paled in the midnight sun. When he acted like a boyfriend, like they were more than a hookup and then ignored her, it hurt. When she was well into her yearly drought, and all she had were those shooting stars to wish upon, the sweeter he was, the more rich the ache, the aftertaste saccharine.

Emma could tell, his gifts and the joy he seemed to take in giving them would warm her to the backbone through January, and make her teeth hurt by July.

And still she couldn't convince herself to stop, to ask, to protect herself. She couldn't even detach a little, she was so excited about the little stuffed animal she had for him in return.

"Harry, this is beautiful!" She unfolded a gorgeous sweater dress of a fine wool knit that screamed warm.

"Yeah?" He smiled, pleaded with the praise and himself. "I was at Gucci, and I was gonna get you some stuff there, but they just didn't feel like you, so I started doing some research on sustainable brands and I found this one, and another. This one is good for day to day, it's called Ever Lane, and the next, Bode, it's great for retro pieces. Open the next one."

She'd been staring at him. He was going to buy her Gucci? This was better, but that seemed like a pretty penny to spend on your holiday hook up. She knew money wasn't really an object for him. He always paid for the hotel on their rendezvous and she never brought it up. It was always just taken care of. She wasn't a starving student, but she also wasn't an international pop star. These gifts felt big, bigger than what they were.

He liked to be generous. But, it felt like these gifts, the 5 packages and one coming later were a statement in a language she didn't understand.

"Harry, this is too much." Was all she could say. He didn't respond with words, just gave her a look and shrugged his shoulders like, 'what else am I supposed to do with it'.

Emma knew from Gemma that Harry took care of them, their vehicles and his mum's house and whatever they mentioned they wanted or he thought they'd like.

Gemma had said last year, when she was thrilling over her Christmas gifts, "It's the one time of year I let him get away with it. The rest of the time I've gotten to where I don't mention things I like or want, because they show up on my doorstep, you know?"

Emma had nodded even though she didn't know, but she did now. He was so thoughtful it hurt, but the implications troubled her.

"Open the next one. I'm really excited for it."

It was a beautiful jacket, mustard, her favorite color, and matching mittens.

"For when you want to ride your bike, but it's chilly. They're very warm." He remembered she was cold on her bike that day.

Emma knew he remembered her text after the 'what are you wearing' conversation about being grumpy because she had chosen to ride her bike but it was too cold. His big beating heart could melt snow.

She swallowed down the sentiments clogging her throat along with her worries. Should she ask? She'd have too, eventually. This was feeling more serious than it should be, like he wanted to call her babe for more than a weekend, like he wanted her to stay, with him.

It's what she wanted, in some part of her, but was completely out of the question. He had a big international life, and she had her own global ambition.

The rest was wrapped donation cards to causes she'd worked for or even mentioned. The last gift was a small box, and when she opened it, she cried, then laughed and handed him his box.

"What?" He said, "I can't tell if you're happy or sad about that gift?" He worries his bottom lip.

It was another frog, just like the one she'd picked as the tangible gift when she'd made the donation in his name.

Emma just shrugged and wiped her eyes. "Open it."

His bursting balloon laugh inflated her merry heart. "Did we really do the exact same thing?" His face had an odd look she could only call tender.

"Same wavelength, me and you." He was misty like she had been a moment ago. He leaned forward and kissed her. Then picked up their stuffed frogs and made them kiss like he was a small child playing dolls. "I almost don't want to separate them."

"Are we still talking about the frogs?" She laughed, because she had a feeling they weren't.

He shrugged and his phone began to buzz. "Can I take a rain check on answering that question? If I don't leave right now, they will know I stayed out all night on Christmas Eve, and there will be questions. I don't think we are quite ready to explain what we are." He chose that moment to yawn like a lion in the late afternoon after a long day of lounging and got up to leave.

Emma still had questions.He'd said not quite ready to explain what they were doing. Emma wasn't even sure what they were doing. Were they going to tell people, tell Gemma? Tell them what? That they were together? Wanted to be together? Belonged together. The frogs too, did the frogs belong together?

He was dressed by the time she was done freaking out. He looked tired, but exhilarated, like he'd spent a night getting everything he wanted and a few things he didn't know he needed. "Bye doll," he kissed her, right on the mouth, affectionately and with only a trace of the heat the December air lacked. "I'll see you tomorrow night. Merry Christmas! I wanna see you in the sweater," he was walking through the door. "Oh, and the other thing?"

"Other thing?" She looked at him confused.

He pointed underneath the tree. "Have another look."

Emma blushed when she opened the lingerie. She wondered if he'd had to check her pants and bras for sizes or if he just knew the shape of her well enough that he'd guessed accurately.

They looked really good.

She needed to be getting home as well. There would be no getting out of it, she needed an excuse for rolling in just in time for Christmas brunch, her parents were notorious early risers, as was she. Her plan was to tell them she'd just made too merry the night before and slept on the couch at the Twist's. It was truth adjacent. It was the best she could come up with, her head was full of Harry and she couldn't think.

Her Christmas passed in a blur of food and wine and wrapping paper. Harry had sent her a picture of him with a bow on his head and asked her if she felt spoiled enough or needed him to wear the bow the next day.

She'd told him to wear it. And only it.

She'd not expected him to follow directions both precisely and with some creative license.

"Do you really think your cock is a gift?" She tried to mock him, while he stood proudly, hips first in their room at the Boat's Head.

"Well, I intend to give it to you!" He raised his eyebrows and stalked toward her. "I like the sweater. Looks amazing, but? Probably better here." He swept it over her head and deposited it on the floor.

"That was atrocious!" She giggled, but felt no anxiety unlike the last day or so.

"Yeah, maybe, but I needed to see if you'd worn my other gift."

"I thought it was my gift."

"For both of us, I'd argue." He winked.

"You wink like a drunk pirate." She couldn't help but smile at him. His silly banter had completely removed the nerves she should be feeling, standing in front of him in a Santa red bra, panties, garter belt, and stockings. She'd sourced the Santa hat herself and the black heels were hers.

"I'm feeling drunk seeing you in this." His hands were running over the satin on her hips and the lace at her waist, then the bare flesh of her ass. "I think I even lied to myself. This was definitely my present." The last word was said against her lips and his big hands slid down the globes of her backside to between her thighs, hoisting her onto his hips. The trail his thumbs left had her shivering.

The bed rose up to meet her. Harry hovered over her before standing and staring.

"Are we on pause?" She was panting and really hoping they were not stopping let alone slowing.

He opened his hands like a director, "I'm just trying to remember this to keep me warm all year." He ran his hands from her toes to her curled hair, she'd gone all out, then back down. His face was full of anticipation and a hesitation she'd never seen when she was this bare, not even the first time when he was flush on bravado and international acclaim.

"What is it?" She started to sit up.

He groaned. "Wow, that move did great things for your chest."

Emma could only laugh. He was acting like he'd never seen a naked woman, when he'd probably seen more than his fair share, and had definitely seen her before.

"You're acting like you've never seen me before."

"It's always like the first time. You're overwhelming."

"I'm overwhelming?" She wanted to laugh, she saw him as Harry, at first her friend's brother, then the cute boy with the big career she'd hooked up with, then her favorite holiday surprise, and now she couldn't define exactly what he was to her, mostly Harry? Who she missed all year and cherished for a week at a time in person, a deeply in her heart the rest of the time. She remained aware, however, of who he was, at large.

"Absolutely, I can barely take you. Can't believe I get to have you." What did she say to that? She only nodded, it was mutual. "Listen," he continued, "Can I take a picture of you. I'll keep your face out of it."

She thought for a moment, thrilled that he wanted to save this memory, to relive this moment until they met again. She didn't have any pictures of him, and thought there were so many online, none of them were really of him. "Yeah, go on Harry."

Maybe she should take one back. Save the neck down one place and the neck up as her wallpaper, she could get away with it. She saw classmates with him as their Home Screen. Her plans kept the nerves at bay while he got his set up ready.

He posed a leg, had her lay back, and then sit up. He took about 5 pictures on his phone, then three Polaroids, and by then she was getting into it. She was moving in ways that made her feel sexy and he was getting antsy.

"I'll show you, so you can approve, after." He discarded the phone and pulled his jumper over his head before crawling up the bed and over her.

"I trust you Harry. It's fine."

She wasn't sure what it was about those words, but he grew, thicker between her thighs and larger in her presence before he was kissing her bra off and asking if he could leave the stockings and shoes on.

"'Mmmhmmm." Emma moaned from her perch on the pillows looking down watching him pull her panties free and reattaching her stockings. "Damn." He kissed both places and flipped her over to skate his lips up her thighs and ass and back. Her hair was over her face while he kissed her neck and rutted into her with his jeans still on. She grabbed a handful of his glorious hair and kissed him over her shoulder. "Like this?" She asked.

"Mmhmmm." He echoed and she felt him kicking his jeggings free and sliding on the condom. She was flat on the mattress and unsure if he wanted her to push back on her knees. She didn't need to think about it long, he hoisted her up, and pressed a gentle hand between her shoulder blades so her body arched like a slide. His fingers climbed up to cascade down her backbone in an echo of the ride he was about to take down. He was right there, hovering, and Emma pushed back, but the whine in her voice was the more obvious tell.

"Baby, I need you."

"I need you, so much. Miss you when I'm gone."

She missed him when she was gone too. He slid his head in and waited. Emma wasn't really in control of the clenching this caused and it made Harry lose his grip on his. The smack of his hips against her thighs reverberated off the borrowed walls they considered their own.

He stroked her inside out and commented on the grip of her onto his dick. "It's like you don't want to let me go," he whispered into her ear.

Emma turned her head and breathed, "I don't want to." The kiss broke his rhythm and lingered until her clenching started over, again. How was she so close so soon?

"No, no, no." She whined when he pulled out.

"Shhhh, I've got you." He knew she was onto something, they'd become practiced hands at each other's pleasure.

He flipped her over and smoothed her hair back, bracketing her face between his hands like an aside he needed to voice right at that moment. "I just want to see you."

He went back in with ease, and with anybody else she might be ashamed for how embarrassingly wet she was, for the squelch. "God! Harry!" Her thighs came up to his hips and he hitched one over his elbow and open, then lay a good portion of his weight onto her. It was just the right side of too much. Just like all of him.

"Let me find it again, that high you were chasing?"

She was nodding, babbling. He picked up the rhythm from before and added a tiny rut at the end to the swelling of her clit. She was back on the trail to the summit quickly. It had been good, if fumbling, from night one. By this gift season, it was like he had installed all of her buttons personally and could push her to the edge at will. Her eyes were closed and she was concentrating hard on the oasis just beyond her horizon.

"Baby," he whispered, his breath soft and scented like her lip balm. "Open your eyes." He was just over her and he wrapped her open thigh back and around his knee. "Watch me," he made a c with his body so she could watch the goings on and feel them too.

"Oh, fuck."

"I love your filthy mouth. When you get going. Demure driven Emma on the brink has a dirty dirty mouth."

She'd narrow her eyes at him if she could bear to look away from his cock.

"Baby!" She gasped.

"Hold it, stay, just a little longer." He kissed her and then compelled her eyes to his. "I'll come with you."

His nose touched hers at just the tip and he rocked her and watched as she trembled and held off and pleaded. "Now, now, come now." He grit his teeth in preparation, but he needn't have worried, the minute he commanded it, she obeyed and the body roll of sensation ran from the roots of her hair to the bends of her knees.

He seized and his head fell back, but as soon as he was in command of himself again, his eyes were back on hers. "I love...," he gasped and her mind raced over what the hell he might say. What she wanted to gasp back. It was a bit of a comedown as opposed to a denouement when he filled in, "...having you for Christmas."

He buried his face in her neck and breathed into the nooks and crannies she thought she had kept safe from him.

Which was why it hurt so much when she had to tell him no.

His final gift, complete with an aching grin, had been an open ended ticket. "So you can come to me, with me, on tour."

She knew her brow knotted up like a bundle of discarded yarn. That wasn't the agreement. And she couldn't, couldn't even allow herself to want it. She had her PhD program looming. There was no time to go anywhere this fall.

"Harry, you know I can't."

He looked crestfallen, like this was new information and not why they only got these stolen snowbound days once a year. "Can't or won't?" He was verging on angry and it would piss her off if her heart wasn't so close to fissuring.

Honesty was her only policy, "Both." She handed the ticket back to him.

It ruined their night, the movie they tried to distract themselves with, the goodbye sex they didn't have.

He wasn't even there when she woke up the next morning.

But the tickets were on his pillow with a small note, "Change your mind, please. I'll be seeing you. H."

[firespirited]

Blog

Decided to blog even without the internet, I've promised to keep some kind of record after never daring to have diaries and destroying old writings. It not only helps to record memories better but is part of the effort to allow myself to be seen and known even though there's a lot I don't talk about

// Mostly physical issues: you can kind of tell from gaps in creating or gaps in the day in general when i've been incapacitated by pain or exhaustion, so say, the lack of dog walks or cooking is a big tell: in 2019 I was doing them regularly. It's not exactly relatable and can be quite frightening to non spoonies and triggering to others so I record health issues and abilities with initials on a notepad instead. Besides my body steals the focus all the time, i'd like other things to get the spotlight for once! //

So here goes:

read more for super long post!

I should note that the soundtrack for the past week has been Seal: Kiss from a Rose non stop, overlapping, out of order, mostly the acapella stuff. You might think that's torture but it's not a bad song to have on loop considering we're entering the Wham, Mariah and xmas schlock season. Shoutout to the ADHD folks with constant snippets of ad jingles, catchphrases and songs -We all know there's worse to have playing in an unclosable background tab. There have been brief interludes of of the sung parts of Freebird because I can't see the word freebox without thinking "and this bird you cannot tame!" or "won't you flyyyyy-yyy freeeebird, yeah".

Monday: I woke up to a double slap in the face. First: the internet wouldn't work and the box said disconnected. Second postal woes. We'll deal with this part first but both happened simultaneously.

Go to find M, she's half asleep with no answers. her phone will have some mobile data and was the main signup contact info.

I wanted this to be a shared responsibility not on my shoulders alone since i'm tech guy but if things go wrong they want to know why they weren't asked about decisions first, i make the tech decisions all the time. So that's why she's main on this new internet lease. as mentioned before i have an ongoing battle with guilt/shame and tend to spiral when something goes wrong like it's my fault (for doing x or not having a backup plan for x). it's irrational but powerful. I have to spend most of the day thinking *away* from things that are under my responsibility but go wrong no matter how busy things get, the thoughts still weedle their way in.

Okay so she has a text from Orange on *friday* saying they noticed the new company had our phone line details and they're cutting us off, one from Free that morning saying your new line is connected and functional so we just need a box to hook up and we'll have internet.

Second: I was asleep when the postman came: my letter with a few bratz clothes to AustrALIA, printed and carefully stamped with tracking stickers was sent to AUSTRIA, send back and fined 10€. There was a bunch of post so M paid up without asking why or what or even looking at the parcel, didn't think to ask for anything. Now I have to find way of contesting the fine or tax or whatever it was (no receipt!), finding out if post to Oz is going to have this issue again and somehow tell the customer. You can not make this kind of incomptence up. but no internet = no answers. Look at this nonsense:

I spiral for a few hours anyway

I'd really like to do therapy again someday, I need adapted coping mechanisms to redirect thoughts. Going for a walk or body based mindfulness isn't an option.

Watched Colossal (dled in 360px from a streaming site back during the last internet drought). It's a great premise with solid acting, the metaphors are built in and it certainly has you white knuckled for the entirety of the third act but once it was over I found myself wondering if there was a meaning (I don't expect full resolution from stories about addiction or depression, in fact it annoys me if the person is magically better without some serious timeskip and ongoing work). It just sort of gave me 'this story is sort of an indie film and will have a point' vibes and ended up being a thriller, a solid thriller: just not what was expected. Oh wait, did I mention your immersion will be constantly ruined by the fact that Korea is a real place with real people with real lives? and you *will* want to kill the two leads, yes even the heroic one at the end... with no personal ethical problem at all: straight up murder the leads with your bare hands to save people who actually have a working moral compass. I was half hoping they'd have an end scene where there's a reveal and a lynch mob but that would be giving asian people some agency and this movie has no interest in that. Like they chose Seoul !!! of all places, to fill with expendable stupid person-shaped plot drones. Seoul has a quake plan, a nuke plan, a coup plan, a chemical attack plan, all men over 30 have been through military training, people are community minded and organise very effectively. They would leave the town evacuated except for skeleton crews manning the medical areas and military bases within 12 hours. Bet you $10 they have a joke military simulation for kaiju/mechas ready to go. But no they're plot ants going to turn up to be killed by a monster that appears in the same spot at the same hour everyday. What happened to inventing some exotic coded city or country? Why not set the monsters in Dallas or London (trust me, we are not prepared for much)? 

My review, like that of Daredevil on netflix (yes that's an old grudge but I expected better) and The Suicide Squad 2020, is two middle fingers up out of ten stars for 'foreign' people as props: immersion ruined, story loses any impact, I don't care about your protagonists anymore, two hours of my time wasted on dreck that needed five minutes of thought instead of relying on a very tired old racist cliché. Who is greenlighting this 1960s B movie bad storytelling trope over and over again?

Does it not occur to them that a significant part of the audience will empathise with the city dwellers or factory workers or have been to a place that is strange and alien but also *people were still very much people*?

To illustrate: in The Boys (aka the series in the terrible tumblr ads) they had this scene of a bad guy being hunted through a block of flats and you're like ok I know this place, we've seen characters live in similar places, I've lived in places like this and the collateral damage the superhero does is horrifying and it tells you that the superhero is worse than any bad guy but then the superhero has this big scene where they say a slur and enjoy killing the bad guy slowly like 'Dun Dun villain alert' when the correct "oh shit" moment was when civilians were getting tossed out of windows. You know what I mean?  You feel like you're being treated like a total idiot by a story when the person did a bad thing then the story has to double down and have them do a whole bunch more bad things- like you didn't get that it was a very bad thing the first time around. Maybe I'm just sick of the comic book, action hero and cop movies that treat death with no weight. I think I'll watch Rachel's wedding Rachel getting married as a palate cleanser when the internet is back where the damage of addiction is given it's proper levity (even though it's going to be painfully cringeworthy).

I would 100% watch a remake or different version of the Colossal concept done smarter. The superhero facing consequences or with side effects makes for some really interesting media, i mean there are some terrible executions of the genre (avengers civil war) but done with even a little bit of thought? that's some delicious brain food right there!

Dolls on film (looks like Bandai Cutie Honey. set in Seoul 1987)

Lily is bored and being adorable. she's fully fluffy at the moment so she reads as a puppy even more than usual.

Tuesday: Freebox arrives tomorrow. Thank the universe J's skype medical appointment got moved to friday. Today I'm going to watch Chronicle (2012) to compare and contrast. I wonder if the blonde guy's (DeHaan) voice is an affect to sound like a teen or his real voice? Michael B looking both too old for highschool and also so young. Oh nice: rules as soon as there's a mess. Good guys, I love these dorks. Their home movies are 3 idiots playing slap games, if they were brothers they'd have accidentally killed eachother by now. I'm glad they made both cousins awkward and socially isolated with one making a choice to work on connecting to people because the ND being the one to snap isn't true to life. Oh, wow, here we go... OK that was good. Minimal shaky cam considering the medium. Escalation was handled with clues, clarity and a big trigger event so it wasn't a straight 'power corrupts' storyline. I think Jordan should have been the cousin, he's got the better acting chops, but yeah that was 2012 *cough*Not everybody came out of their Friday Night Lights binge with the right conclusions*cough* (still waiting for a certain actress to get her dues). I don't need answers about the nature of how things work but no anime references? it's 2012 and M.B. Jordan how do you pass up such a golden opportunity? LMAO. The comparison to Akira has probably been done to death and The Craft has better lore on about using powers for good and TWO characters with emotional issues.

I'd rate this a solid 7/10 as a variation on the Akira story. Works well as "What if Peter Parker had a terrible uncle and wasn't whip smart?". A teensy bit on the fence about the atypical coding of blonde dude, I'd be less forgiving if they hadn't made his cousin a bit of a social disaster too. I loved that they connected telekenenis to flying, when characters can move stuff and themselves ... but not themselves from the ground it's a wierd thing for viewers/readers to buy into. The big fight was set at night which had me squinting to see who's where, so that lost it a point.

Finished Lagoonafire and yarn rerooted Gigi while listening to 3 "You are good" (formerly "what are dads") podcasts which has Sarah and Alex from "You're wrong about" talking about movies in a very informal not technical way. This was The Mummy, Guardians of the galaxy 2 and Birds of Prey.

I love them because they can take some seriously awful subject matter and do gallows humour that doesn't feel uncaring, they care a lot and take it seriously but life is tough and it's also ok to laugh about the absurdity of it. You've got a good dose of respect for the complexity of humans, lots of empathy but also they don't leave you feeling dirty, it's more like "here's the knowledge and context people had at the time, here's the knowledge we have now, it's ok to be furious at the injustice and let's keep these things in mind as we move forward because setting the record straight even for your one brain is a small step towards justice and that's a positive even though we just gave you twenty more reasons to hate humanity. Like if this was a twitter thread info dump you'd want to take up drinking right now but we're going to let you digest this with a bit of space gently". I don't know how they pull it off but they do. I thought "you're wrong about" was going to be confrontational or, worse, sensational but it's just debunking and education with a spoonful of sugar. Everything properly sourced and balanced like proper journalists not sloppy true crime/docuseries.

Not sure why I rerooted half of Lagoonafire to stick her hair in a ponytail but she looks amazing with her hair down too:

Wednesday:

woke up to find freebox physically set up thanks to J (my heart is bursting!!) now to fine tune the back end. quickly sent emails. client in australia seems understanding (with a full refund).

[purplesurveys]

1113

During thunderstorms, how does your pet react? They don’t care for them, as typhoons are fairly common. Kimi used to be scared of fireworks but he’s since grown indifferent to them as he’s gotten older. Cooper also didn’t seem to care much for fireworks during his first New Year, but that might be because my dad left music playing in the living room which helped drown out the loud explosions.

What internet browser do you use? I’ve used Chrome for well more than a decade now.

Who did you spend most of your time with last Summer? The pandemic and the lockdown were still at their peak back then, so I only remained with my immediate family. I didn’t even see my then-girlfriend until July, and we only saw each other thrice before we broke up.

Are you addicted to any energy drinks? No. I got to smell Red Bull before and it gave off such a strong sweet smell that I wasn’t even interested in drinking it.

Do you like Egg Nog? Have never tried it but I’ve always thought it sounds delicious.

How often do you see your mother? I still live with my family, so I see her everyday. I don’t always want to, but I don’t really have a choice.

Do you like croutons in your salad? Just in some kinds of salad, yeah. They’re not appropriate for my favorite kind of salad though.

Are you the one who vacuums your house? My mom takes charge of anything cleaning-related because she’s fully convinced none of us can do tasks precisely her way.

When was the last time your living room furniture was rearranged? Middle of January when we put away the Christmas tree and moved some stuff around to make up for the free space.

Would you rather drink out of a cup or a mug? Depends on what I’m drinking. I drink hot things from a mug and cold ones from a cup < Same.

What company do you get your internet through? We have PLDT for the wi-fi. But on my phone, I get my mobile data from Globe since they’re my service provider.

Are there any musical instruments in the room you’re in? Not anymore. The keyboard used to be here in the living room, where I am; but we’ve since moved it up to my sister’s room since it was originally bought for her anyway.

When you were little did you like watching Cartoon Network, Disney or Nickelodeon more? My favorites in order were Nickelodeon, Disney, and Cartoon Network.

What's on your calendar for tomorrow? I might go to the village cafe to unwind and for some me time. Maybe embroider a bit too, and find a wrestling documentary or two to watch.

When was the last time you rode on an escalator? Last Sunday when I went to UPTC.

If you have siblings, when is the last time you saw them? My sister’s also on the first floor but in a different room; she was last in my line of sight around 20 minutes. My brother, around five hours ago when we were having dinner.

Throughout a typical week, which places are you likely to go? From Monday to Friday I stay at home due to our work from home set-up. On weekends, you’ll most likely find me at a mall/coffee shop, depending on where I feel like being.

How often do you use your webcam, if you even have one that is? I have multiple video call meetings all five weekdays. I remember dreading Google Meets when I was a fresh new intern and wondering why people just won’t discuss deliverables through chat threads. I eventually got used to it and video calls are now a breeze for me lol, so yay for progress and getting over my anxiety.

Did you and your mom ever have a big fight that caused you to move out? We’ve had plenty of big fights - we clash the most often out of any two people in the family - but I don’t move out, mainly because I can’t lmao.

Have you had a good day today or was yesterday better? It’s technically Saturday now because it just turned midnight, but my mind’s still on Friday mode so let’s go with that timeline. Anyway, ‘today’ was much better because it’s a holiday. Yesterday was fucking chaotic and I did not enjoy it at all; I had back-to-back meetings, two of which where I had to present some slides to clients, and one of which lasted three fucking hours.

The weekend, have you got plans? Today (Saturday) I wanna keep being lazy and like I said, maybe stop by a coffee shop for a few hours for a sanity break. On Sunday I have to pack some gift bag goodies we plan to send out to several media for a PR thing for one of our clients.

Would you ever date someone who was absolutely gorgeous but thought they were better than everyone? I’d probably have such a headache trying to deal with them. No.

Have you ever thought about a teacher naked? Yeah. I absolutely hate intrusive thoughts.

Do you think you will be in a relationship 2 months from now? No.

Do you always feel like you’re making mistakes? Not as often anymore. I feel like having been stuck in this mindset hurt my self-esteem and caused me to make more mistakes, so I’ve been making an effort to give myself more credit and acknowledge that besides committing mistakes (which is an okay thing to happen), I’m also able to reach achievements here and there as well.

Who did you last play truth or dare with? I can’t remember. The groups I’m a part of have usually preferred to play Never Have I Ever rather than Truth or Dare.

Do you like yourself? I’m trying to get there.

Do you remember who you liked on New Year’s? Yes, but New Year’s was also around the time I started being kinder to myself, so my views on Gabie have definitely drastically changed by then.

If you could see one person right now, who would it be? I don’t wish to see anyone at 12:40 AM.

What is something you currently want? For the annoying single pimple by my left eyebrow to piss off.

Do you like sushi? I freaaaaaaaaaking love sushi. Love all kinds and am always ready to try out newer styles and takes on them.

Do you have empty bottles of alcohol hidden somewhere? Nope. All my alcohol is in the fridge, readily chilled should I ever be in the mood to drink.

Have you changed in the past 6 months? Absolutely. It’s been a positive change as well. It was rocky for a while and I didn’t know if I was ever gonna get out of such a bad rut. But I’m here and I’ve made it and I’m doing better than ever, and most importantly I’m happy. I’ve learned some lessons, swallowed some difficult pills, set some boundaries.

Do you think someone likes the same person you like? I don’t like anyone.

Do you like the person you are becoming? Yes. Like a 100% fuck yes.

Would you rather love one person or have many short relationships? Love one person. Dating is not for me.

First and middle name please. Robyn. I’m not sharing my maiden name.

Do you think you’re wasting your time on the person you like? See fourth to the last question.

[hearteyes-for-killmonger]

A/N

This is Death Note meets Black Panther. So if you like the idea of Erik as Light Yagami, you're in the right place.

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged.

My fics have no READ MORE option because I do them all from mobile. :/ so sorry about the forever scrolls. 😫 Good thing is I'm keeping chapters to about 1500 words.

1. BEGINNINGS

Dear Journal,

I've written of much in my lifetime and now I continue this in my afterlife. But, Journal? How can I accurately describe this VAST realm where the ghost of my former self now exists? That is all I am.

I'll start with the sky for it has demanded my attention. The contrast of the deep purple and rich blue against blindingly white flashes of light make the starry sky of this ancestral plane the most majestic to behold, even greater than that of a Wakandan sunrise, and for that I am grateful. Under this realm’s sky which is so undefiled, so splendid, so divine that no mortal can look upon or stand under it without first forfeiting their very lives and human shells.. we souls of the past run free in our transcendent forms.

But are we truly free within this elaborate repetition?

When we are not running, we write. I'm sure you're beginning to understand. As ancestors, our words bind the earth realm to our own. We are accountable for recording the events in the earth as well as names.

“N'Jobu. Are you going to run?” Chika paces below on the ground, his jet black fur shining blue under the dramatic sky. Life in the ancestral plane is akin to a vivid dream that never seems to come to a point or an end. “What are you pondering so intently? Give that journal a rest, you are free, N'Jobu. You are meant to run on.. forever,” he spoke, each word echoing in my ear, a cement block sealing my monotonous fate. Is that all there is? Running?

“..I’ll remain here.”

Another omen. The curse of eternal disappointment. Chika runs, striding through the soft green grass, toward eternity. He won’t be back for a millennium and it will still be too soon in the scale of forever.

As I perch atop my branch inscribing these entries, I watch the living trapped in the sinking wheel which is humanity.

I see Wakanda entering a new era. I see impending war waged by the unjust. My claw moves on it's own, inking the names of the innocent and the young. They come everyday before their time. I cannot hold back my–is it sympathy? No, sympathy is invalidation. I’ve been removed from mortality for entirely too long to care. The thing I feel–is intrigue.

-N'Jobu

Sinking wheel aside, the human world has its interesting moments. The human mind is an interesting machine. Humans with the capacity to choose their destiny on a small scale will often cling to life for the sole purpose of defiling it. Tooth and nail, they fight to defy and delay the inevitable, still meeting the same fate they struggled against. Humans pursue the end of a certain evil only to be overcome by the specific evil they’ve created.

Humans as a whole? Predictably ordinary and violent. However, the most interesting things pertain to the actions of individuals. Individuals are the wild cards.

That's what I'd like to explore.

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

Erik slid his phone from his pocket, sliding it in his line of vision as he walked briskly down the city sidewalk toward the block where his office building stood tall. Yahoo news had a few ridiculous articles, pointless in the nature. He considered putting in his earbuds to listen to his playlist until he reached his building. Or maybe he'd pick a research to dive into absorbing it for no other purpose than regurgitating it to the easily impressed. His business partner would be impressed for sure. Decisions, decisions. Clicking quickly through the internet, he stumbled on a title.

17-year-old Isaiah Mark Lewis was unarmed when he was shot after fighting with two officers who first used a stun gun on him.

Disgusting. Another senseless death at the hands of the morally corrupt, the third he'd heard of in two weeks. He hit the back button searching for something different, something lighter.

Marzeus Scott, an unarmed 35-year-old killed by police in Blytheville, Arkansas.

He exited his browser, pocketing his phone and looking ahead to the silver sky and concrete jungle which enveloped him. Black man with a bald fade and suit up ahead, 2:00. Black woman with a long skirt and blazer behind him, 6:00. He couldn't help but see clear targets on their backs as well as his own. It was an unspoken phenomenon, this fear of blackness that became the black soul's burden to carry. Like ants, black people were expected to work pointless 9-5's for CEOs that cared more for dogs and money than human life. Everyday there was the dark aura of the capitalistic, racist shoe hovering above, playing god.

His calf-skin Armani loafers hit the ground at a steady pace and the Harlequin Jacquard wool blazer he wore moved with him like a thick second skin. A police car rolled along with the traffic to his left as he kept his eyes forward.

2:00. Black man sitting on the ground. Elderly. Homeless. It was only a matter of time before he'd be chased away by some pompous authority. Erik took out a few bills folding them into his palm to quickly pass to the old man.

"I can't take this," he rasped. "I can't-- I-- Thank you so much. Thank you." He grabbed Erik's hand which held the $300 and shook it, not letting go. "Thank you so much," he repeated before Erik pulled his hand back.

Great. Now he had to wait at the crosswalk because he'd missed the break in traffic.

He checked his watch impatiently, a rose gold Patek Philippe Nautilus gifted to him by his team at 2K Security, Inc. Having fattened their pockets over the years, he was their hero. And now he was on his way back to his office for a virtual meeting with Samsung.

"Good morning, Mr. Stevens," Gloria, the receptionist perked on his arrival to the ground floor lobby. Nodding in greeting, he could feel her eyes scrolling over him but like every time before, he ignored this--stepping into one of the four large elevators which took him up smoothly to the very top where his spacious office resided.

Large floor to ceiling windows lit the white painted room naturally and his computer awaited, ON but sleep. He could practically see the seconds ticking quickly by, but luckily he was just in time for the meeting with Sandeep.

"Password and login, okay.. 2kMeetings.com. Input access code," he mumbled punching keys all to see the brown skin man with a pompadour of thick straight jet black hair staring back at him. He started the recording.

"Can I say this the best web conferencing software I've used thus far? And I've used a lot," Sandeep commented seemingly impressed. Erik wasn't surprised having been named in Forbes, but he smiled nonetheless giving humble thanks. This software was his own creation. The company overall was his baby. He nurtured it like one would nurture an actual child.

The meeting began and as it progressed, Erik had new projects to undergo, features that Samsung wanted to incorporate into their products and even into their own security and data systems. They began to talk user privacy, security VPNs, and MDMs. Soon after, it was time to disconnect and implement some of the changes discussed.

Hours later, Erik had not ceased in his work. He would not stop until he absolutely had to, it was a thing about him. When it came to his baby he was totally engrossed.

"Baby," Erik spoke into the phone catching it on the second ring when he saw the name Mika flash on the screen with a picture she'd taken and set as the icon herself. "Oh, uh--Dinner? I don't know, I've got a lotta shit to do today." He started typing a code and nearly forgot to continue his call. "Uh--Mika," he paused to type another line. "I may be late tonight."

Movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention. Something had fallen through the sky.

"Hm? Oh. What happened?--Nah, I ain't hear about that story, but I just read about two more today. They're just out here killing niggas left and right." He stood looking through one of the tall clean windows to see what had dropped from the sky. No one on the ground seemed to notice. Was he buggin? "Hm? They what? His hands were up and they shot him? With cameras recording?" He listened to his girl's angry report. She was right, they'd probably get off regardless of the evidence. She would know, she was a cop. Well, a detective.

He headed back to the elevator, cellphone in hand while his girl gave him the entire story, venting her frustration simultaneously. When he stepped onto the sidewalk outside of the building, there was no disturbance. No one seemed to be glued to the area for any particular reason. He looked in every direction including up finding a black leather bound journal on the concrete with its spine in the air. If he hadn't seen it fall from the sky, he'd have assumed some random passerby dropped it and he'd have ignored it. Picking it up, he shook and dusted it, turning it this way and that. "No. No protest." Mika was bent on being front line, but it was dangerous. She could get hurt. "You're not going," he asserted. "I understand, but I want you to be safe, okay? Hm?--Aight. I'll see you tonight. Love you," he said hanging up and pocketing the phone, both hands now gripping the worn journal. Whose was it?

The deafening whir of a siren broke through the city noise before a police car appeared from around the corner up ahead. The stories of the three recently murdered men swirled in Erik's head. With the police's extreme prejudices, the results were never favorable for those who looked like him regardless of what they wore, did, or their level of innocence and involvement. He could only imagine the violence that would come from the driver when he made it to his location. Would there be another bad report?

There he was again--anticipating the drop of the sadistic shoe overhead. An ant's mentality. As an ant, this world he was chained to was nothing but disappointment.

Tag list: @muse-of-mbaku  @goddessofthundathighs  @panthergoddessbast  @thadelightfulone  @misspooh  @marvelmaree  @youreadthatright  @forbeautyandlife  @theunsweetenedtruth  @bidibidibombaclaat  @myboyfriendgiriboy  @dameshaemonique  @blackpantherimagines    @vikkidc  @hidden-treasures21  @mysidefanting  @hold-me-like-a-heart-beat  @syndrlla97  @winteroflife  @thotyana-in-this-hoe    @texasbama  @gingerylimonte  @princessstevens    @magic-madness-heavensin  @wawakanda-btch  @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade  @wakanda-inspired  @blackgirloneshots  @thegucciwaffle  @thiccdaddy-mbaku    @purplehairgawdess  @indigoxsummers  @cccccx1    @dynastylnoire  @iamrheaspeaks  @blowmymbackout   @they-call-me-le  @theblulife  @raysunshine78  @sheisexcellent @fd-writes @soufcakmistress @ju5tp34chy

[xmxisxforxmaybe]

Decryption_Error: “Darlene”

Summary: Amidst an unsettling arrest at CIStech, Elliot decides it’s time for Y/N to meet his sister, Darlene. He’s also ready to acknowledge his feelings, and afterward, Y/N takes it a step further to offer Elliot some more consistency in his life.

Story Summary,  “The Server Room, Part I”,  “The Server Room, Part II”  “The Long Weekend, Part I”,  “The Long Weekend, Part II”,  “The Aftermath”,  “Undecided”,  **“Decided”,  “Spooked”,  **“Fourth of July, Part I”,  *”Fourth of July, Part II”

Word Count: 7600

Tags: @sherlollydramoine @rami-malek-trash @teamwolf2411 @limabein @txmel​ @alottanothing @ouatlovr @backoftheroomandnotbelonging @moon-stars-soul​ @free-rami​ @ramimedley​ @hopplessdreamer​ @sweet-charmie​ 

*Updated tags--If you want added or I’ve missed your request, let me know. 

Warnings: Mild sexual content, mild description of a panic attack

“How could this have happened?” I asked more to myself than to Alison Shaye, head of HR, as I rubbed my temples and looked over the substantial brief one more time.

It was mid-August and the summer heat had reached a sweltering climax. It hadn’t rained since the day Elliot and I drove back from my parents’ house in Greenwich, and the city was collectively frustrated by the hot weather.

Everyone except Elliot and me—we had been wrapped up in one another, running our new daily program which now included seeing each other almost every night. Even though Elliot hadn’t yet returned my pronouncement of love, I could tell there was something different in the way he looked at me since that night on the floor of my closet.

As promised, I didn’t push. I never asked for more from him than he was willing to give. I still told Elliot how I felt when I felt it, and he answered me with a smile or with a head shake of disbelief.

And I let it be enough.

“He’s been selling our data for over two years—ever since he had to split the custody of his son with his ex-girlfriend,” stated Alison, yanking me back to the madness of my current situation.

“But it’s Colin. He’s an asshole, not a criminal.”

“Apparently he’s both,” Alison said in her colorless tone, showing for the first time I had ever seen, a less than professional impartiality.  

“And the police were just sent this file? A neat little package of all that Colin’s been doing? This had to take months to put together—bank transactions, meeting dates, cell phone records, IP addresses, logins, everything.”

“So it seems. About a month ago, an attorney called to confirm Colin’s hire date, our company’s pay dates, and a few other simple employee identification questions. I didn’t think much of it because I assumed it had something to do with a custody suit. When I met with a detective last week for more thorough questioning, my confirmation of dates must have been the last thing they needed to make an arrest. Colin lawyered up, confessed, and took a deal. Didn’t even try to fight the allegations.”

“Damn,” I breathed, still in disbelief.

“Ms. Y/L/N? You need to head upstairs for your meeting.”

I stood up and thanked Alison. As she left, I steadied my nerves and gathered up my files. Since Precision Machining was our host company, its Board of Directors controlled us as well. Miles said I would occasionally be called in for meetings with them as the highest person at CIStech, but who knew my first meeting would be one about an employee caught committing insider trading?

I swiped my badge and rode the elevator to the second to last floor of our building. The vibe at the top is always different in any office building. Things are quiet, sterile, and there’s a general feeling of ill-ease, like no one wants to talk too loud or draw too much attention to what they are doing. Even the phones ring quietly on the top floor.

I checked in with the receptionist and she took me straight back to the board room. My father still retained his seat on the board, so I knew there would be at least one face in the room I could focus on as I faced the inquiry.

My eyes scanned the room and I couldn’t help but inwardly sigh at the sea of white, grizzled faces, only two women amongst them, and none of them with a welcoming expression.

I lifted my chin and walked quickly to the open seat at the end of the table, the chattering continuing as most of the members hadn’t noticed my entrance. Only when I was settled, my hands folded on the table and my breathing even, did I risk looking up to find my father’s face—his features etched into a mask of indifference until I locked eyes with him.

He was watching me, and when I met his gaze, his handsome face filled with concern.

“Oh—CIStech’s here,” the president of the board said when he noticed the addition of a body to the table.

The other board members grew quiet and turned in their highback, expensive leather chairs to face me. The table was steel, possibly something that had been done in one of the machining shops to add to the sterility of the room which contained nothing remarkable except for the window-lined walls that opened up to a glorious view of the city.

I looked around, making eye contact, knowing I had to project confidence. They were looking for someone to blame, and I was their best choice until I convinced them otherwise.

The president began the meeting by summarizing Colin’s offense. It was then that I learned Colin took a deal that sentenced him to six months in jail for securities fraud, plus a year and six months on probation. He defrauded Precision Machining of $450,000.

“I guess my question for Ms. Y/L/N, is how the hell did this happen?”

I explained my understanding of the police report, adding in relevant tech details. To finish, I added, “The truth of it is, Colin Greene used his position at CIStech to gather sensitive information he then sold on the dark web that resulted in his own financial gain.”

“How do we get that information back?”

Christ, I thought as I fought not to roll my eyes at the outdated question from someone who had no clue how the internet worked.

“There is no such thing as ‘getting back’ information once it’s been propagated online.”

“The more important question is,” spoke up the baldest, loudest man to my right, “how you stop this from happening again. Isn’t that what you do? Isn’t that what you have a whole company doing?”

“We work very hard to keep your information secure—”

“Damn good job, you did of it, too, tootsie,” spoke up an equally bald, but less loud board member who then shot my father a scathing glare before saying. “I don’t care that your dad’s sitting across from me. 450k is nothing, a drop in the bucket, but what happens when techs like you and yours get greedy?”

“Colin’s arrest has proven there are consequences for this sort of crime—”

“Yes, if someone outside of your company reports them.”

I looked at the woman who spoke up, her mouth set in a firm line, her eyes staring at me with an unrelenting gaze.

“I understand your frustration, but I assure you we prevent far more—”

“That’s supposed to reassure us? It’s not an exaggeration when I speak on behalf of the board to say that we see your charts, your data analysis, and we have, until now, assumed it all correlates to the near-perfect record of cybersecurity this company has maintained. But this event casts serious doubt on your ability to protect us against . . . ourselves.”

She had a point, and for the first time I faltered, looking down at the thick police report, realizing I did indeed fail to stop something dire from happening within the company. I glanced to my father and he gave me a small nod of encouragement, looking at me with eyes the exact shade of mine.

I took a deep breath and began again. I fielded questions for well over an hour, answering every concern and theoretical potential fix the board members threw at me until I had sated them. Though they were all wealthy, many of them far worse people than Colin and with even less regard for the stockholders they served, they were no different than anyone else who wanted to have their voice heard. They felt vulnerable, something people in their position had the luxury of rarely feeling. Their reactions were out of fear of that vulnerability, so I tried my best to alleviate it.

And this time, it worked.

“Thank you for your time, Ms. Y/L/N. We will expect an update on your aforementioned new protocols at next month’s board meeting. You did say you’d have data by then?

“Yes.”

“Thank you.”

I gathered my files and left the board room, only to be greeted by Miles who had been waiting to see me.

“How’d it go in there?”

“Well, appalling to start, but I think I brought them around.”

“We need to talk about Colin’s replacement.”  

“Talk or tell?”

“Tell,” Miles said, walking me to the elevator, getting in, and selecting his floor.

We rode down the few floors in silence and I followed him past his secretary and into his office, a corner office with a perfect view—just what Miles had always wanted.

“Nice digs,” I said, smiling a little.

“Damn right.”

“This is going to be painful, isn’t it?”

“Certain individuals within the company feel it would be best to put someone of a particular pedigree and integrity in Colin’s office. They want to send the message that everyone is replaceable . . . with someone better.”

“Okay?”

“Ali Olayan.”

I snorted, surprised, but not actually. I moved to sit down in one of the comfortable chairs across from Miles’ desk and I crossed my legs before tossing my files onto the seat next to me. I rested my hands on top of my knees and looked up.

“And if I say no?”

“You can’t say no. Not if you want this company to continue to take you seriously as Y/N Y/L/N and not just as daddy’s little girl.”

“You remember what Ali did?”

Miles rolled his eyes before continuing, “You made the choice to get involved with Alderson knowing the possibility of a move like this. When we kept Corey and Ali, it would only be up or out for them. It was a 50/50 chance, Y/N. You bet the house, and you lost.”

I looked to the side to look out of Miles’ magnificent set of windows. For the first time, I wondered what it would be like to leave this world, to leave Wall Street and to never look back.

* * * * *

Elliot watched from the sofa as I stormed around my apartment, slamming the refrigerator door for the fifth time having not pulled a single thing out to eat or drink.

“I just can’t fucking believe this! How could I not have known Colin was selling off our data, fucking Martha Stewart insider trading horseshit right under my fucking nose!?”

I walked back the hall, turned around and came thumping back into the living room, circling the couch, ignoring Elliot’s alarmed expression. I slammed my hands on the counter and he jumped, finally tired of twisting to watch my movements, so he used the momentum to stand up.

Elliot was still dressed in his work clothes due to the forcefulness of my invitation to come home with me. Rarely, did we leave the office together, but I gave Elliot little choice today. Everyone on the floor, including JaLeah, watched with interest as I damn-near yanked him out of his chair and told him he was done for the day.

“Why—why are you so angry?” Elliot asked, his face filled with concern. “I thought you didn’t like Colin?”

I took a deep breath, glanced at Elliot, and decided to finally open a bottle of wine to take the edge off. I moved around the counter and fished out my corkscrew.

As I chose a bottle of wine from the little wire rack on my counter, I started to explain. “It’s not about Colin. Well, it is. But it’s more about who they want me to have replace him.”

“Oh,” Elliot said quietly.

“Yeah,” I said, sticking the screw into the cork of the wine bottle and twisting.

“Ali Olayan.”

“Oh,” Elliot said, his voice a lower and darker.

“And I wasn’t given a choice—it’s Ali . . . or me, essentially. Do you want any of this?” I asked as I reached for a wine glass.

“No.”

I pulled a single glass out of the cupboard and began to pour.

“If I comply and make it a smooth transition, I’ll keep the respect I’ve earned, the name I’ve made for myself. If I refuse, if I complicate this promotion, I may as well resign because everything I’ve worked for will be made into a mockery—daddy’s little girl, does exactly what she wants because she can. Because she’s so fucking privileged.”

I took a long drink and continued as Elliot’s eyes flicked between the counter and my face. “You should’ve seen the file this tipster compiled on Colin. It was a detective’s wet dream. Literally everything tracked, everything monitored, times, dates, transactions—everything. Whoever put it together is a fucking genius. Even better than you,” I said with an eyeroll and a snort into my glass as I took another drink.

Elliot looked at me, his eyes oddly focused this evening. Normally, if I was overly emotional, he was unsure how to proceed and kept as much distance as he could. But tonight—something was different. He was much more sure of himself.

“Maybe it needed to happen?” Elliot offered.

“What do you mean?”

“How much longer could he really have gotten away with it? You can bet he would’ve fucked up soon enough—it’s Colin, after all. And you’d be in this exact same position a month or two months from now. If—if it weren’t for me, would you go along with it without protest?”

I looked at Elliot for a long time and felt like I was being tested as his gaze remained fastened on mine.

“I don’t know,” I sighed.

“You’ve made it personal, Y/N. Well, I’ve made it personal.”

“I’m afraid of breaking your trust by not pushing back.”

“Is that the only reason why you want to push back? For me?”

“No—it’s, it’s not the right thing to do, to promote someone because of their connections, their wealth and status, it’s not the right thing to do. I got into tech because I wanted to protect people, people like my dad—good people, not just rich people—who pour their souls into their businesses. When people are that invested in their business, they’re going to be that invested in their employees.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“Yes,” I said with a conviction.

“You’re a good person,” Elliot said as he moved closer to me. “The best person I know.”

“That’s not saying a lot considering you know maybe five people, including me,” I teased.

Elliot laughed softly, his face set in a sweet smile.

“I guess you’re right.”

I turned to face him, my hand still resting on the stem of my glass as it sat on the counter.

“So what do I do now?”

“You play their game. You protect yourself, gain their trust, and bide your time until you can enact change.”

“That’s not what I want to hear.”

“But,” Elliot continued, moving so close he was now a breath away from me. “You’ll still be a good person. A good person caught in the machinations of corporate greed—you had to know something like this would happen if you stayed on Wall Street.”

I looked into Elliot’s face, his grey eyes filled with concern and also with a confidence I rarely saw—he was right and knew he was right.

“You’re right. Unless I just walk in and quit in a fiery rage,” I finished, remembering the feeling I had in Miles’ office as I looked out of the window.

“You’re not a quitter,” Elliot said, his hands coming to rest on my upper arms. “Places like that need people like you in positions of power. It’s all about balance.”

“I’m vastly outnumbered.”

“All the more reason to stay and fight.”

“Who are you tonight?” I asked with a huff of a laugh.

Elliot’s face turned serious and he gripped my arms a little tighter.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re just . . . so sure of yourself.”

Elliot shook his head.

“I’m sure of you,” he said before pressing his lips to mine, kissing me with purpose until I almost forgot the horrors of the day. I was enveloped by him, quickly lost in his citrusy scent that curled around me so totally that I nearly forgot I needed to ask him something important.

I broke the kiss, pulling away and causing Elliot to start stammering out an apology before I shushed him as I waved my hand.

“I almost forgot! Can you do something for me? Can you see if you can figure out who tipped off the police? I don’t have that kind of skill set.”

“Are you asking me to hack? I thought we lived by the rule of, ‘Don’t hack, ask?’” Elliot said, his lips twisted into the perfect curl of a grin again.

“I’m being serious—can you just see what you can find out? I don’t ever want to be blindsided like that again. Dad said the first time the board put Miles through the ringer, they had to call the meeting short so he could collect himself. I get why. It was brutal, and I never want to feel that unprepared again.”

“I can look into it,” Elliot said as his hands slid up my arms to rest on either side of my face, his thumbs settling on the outer corners of my mouth.

“Thanks, El,” I said before his lips were on mine and I let myself go, lost in that citrusy-grey darkness that was Elliot, the day’s events fading away until they were barely visible in my mind’s eye.

* * * * *

A few days after Colin’s arrest, I was sprawled out on Elliot’s bed, answering emails I hadn’t gotten to during the day. It was 8 pm when he walked into my office, the building long emptied, and told me it was time to quit. Once again, he was right, and he knew he was right, so we went back to his place for some takeout.

I had moved to his bed to stretch out after eating, loving the way I could just snuggle in and be surrounded by everything that was him. Elliot was in the kitchen finishing up the dishes when he asked, well, stated that he’d like me to meet his sister.

I stopped reading and stared at him, unsure if I heard him correctly.

“What? Are you sure?”

“It’s been over a month since I met your family. It’s time for you to meet mine.”

“If you’re sure?” I said, my heart picking up its pace a bit as I finally tossed my phone aside, officially quitting work for the day. I could always count on Elliot to provide a thorough distraction, on purpose or not.

Elliot laughed, “Are you nervous?”

“Yes!”

“Darlene is not someone to be nervous about meeting. Buy her dinner and her loyalty is yours,” Elliot said as he toweled off his hands and walked toward his bed.

“She’s not a stray cat! She’s your sister—the only person, well aside from Angela, that you really seem to give a shit about. What if she thinks I’m bad for you? That would be it. You’d be gone. And—”

“You’re babbling,” Elliot said, cutting me off as he crawled onto the bed, moving to sit beside me and to take my hand.

He lifted my palm to his lips and pressed a kiss there before continuing.

“This is not even in the same ballpark of the kind of daunting meet-the-parents plus the whole family thing that you did to me.”

“Fuck me,” I said, thunking my head against the wall.

“Alright,” Elliot said with a mischievous light in his eyes.  

I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Not funny.”

“I seem to recall a girl who said something wildly inappropriate to me just as we pulled into her parents’ driveway.”

“That was funny.”

“No.”

You harrumphed and Elliot chuckled before pulling you close.

“I can’t keep you a secret forever. Don’t want to.”

“Adopting my lifestyle now? Elliot Alderson is climbing out of the shadows?”

“Fuck no—I still like my…mysterious persona. Keeps people at a safe distance.”

“Didn’t work on me.”

“No, you little weirdo. You were like a moth to a black flame.”

“I really was,” I said through a soft laugh. “I think I was half in love with you after the night I helped you prep for idiot Colin’s presentation.”

“And now you’re all the way in love with me?”

“For the thousandth, unrequited time, yes,” I said turning my head to smile at him.

“It’s not,” Elliot said, his face growing serious, my own smile faltering as I looked at him in the dim lighting of his apartment.

“What?” I whispered, my voice sounding like it was a million miles away.

“It’s not…unrequited. I—I love you,” Elliot said, his eyes suddenly finding a spot to look at on the bookshelf next to me.

“I love you, too,” I said, my face stretching into the biggest smile it had ever achieved.  

Elliot took a deep breath and his eyes flicked to me now that the danger had passed, relief settling over not just his face, but his entire body.

“Check something for me?”

I furrowed my brow and slowly said, “Okay. . .”

“Check outside and see if hell’s frozen over.”

I laughed and launched myself into his arms, half sitting on his lap.

I pulled back from my hug to search his face, my thumb resting on his cheek as I cupped his jaw.

“Hell doesn’t freeze over when you tell someone you love them.”

“I feel a little sick,” he said, smiling shyly up at me.

“That feeling in the pit of your stomach,” I began as I touched him there, “like everything is just too much, like you’ve just gotten out of a bathtub after having your skin scrubbed raw, that vulnerability. That’s love.”

“I’m not sure if that’s poetic or if that’s even supposed to make me feel better, but it’s pretty fucking accurate.”

“I’ve been feeling it longer, so I’m the expert.”

“You haven’t—I just haven’t been able to tell you until now.”

We looked at each other for a long, long moment and I knew he meant it. Elliot loved me. I moved all the way into his lap and straddled him.

“I want you so much, El,” I breathed. “All of you. All the time.”

“I’ll always give you as much of myself as I can—promise,” Elliot said as he closed his eyes and let me kiss him.

The kiss was as slow and as sensual as our sex; we undressed each other, took turns kissing one another from head to toe. By the time Elliot slid into my aching, wet heat, I was near tears, overwhelmed by the intensity of our now shared, raw emotion.

We came, successively breathing one another’s names over and over, and I was sure that life couldn’t get any better than this.

* * * * *

Darlene Alderson may have physically resembled her brother, beautiful face with big eyes that made me feel exposed as they traveled over my face, but that’s where their similarities ended. She was outspoken, crass, and owned any room she was in. She projected a confidence I only rarely saw in Elliot, and she also seemed to speak each thought as it popped into her mind, very unlike her brother’s labored communications.

The plan was to meet at Elliot’s apartment to watch movies and order a pizza; I asked if we should go out somewhere nice and he outright laughed.

“Darlene doesn’t really do . . . nice.”

“Everyone likes a little nice.”

“Not my sister,” he said with a hint of annoyance.

I thought he was wrong, but then again, Elliot had been right about a whole lot of things lately.

Despite asking Elliot to look into the people who hacked Colin, he hadn’t been able to find anything. I was surprised, but I knew if anyone could find something, it was him. Since he hadn’t, it made me more nervous because so far, we were the vigilante’s only target. Insider trading wasn’t something rare—if the hacker’s goal wasn’t exposure, what exactly was it?

My anxiety had been worsening since Colin’s arrest and resulted in my first full-blown panic attack in months. I woke up, sweating, certain death was imminent as my heart hammered so hard I could feel it pounding when I held a hand to my chest. I was relieved Elliot hadn’t spent the night. I didn’t want him to see how much all of this stress was affecting me.

But thankfully, Elliot continued to provide ample distraction and waiting to meet his sister made me a different kind of nervous, one that forced me to put Colin out of my mind, again.

I roamed around Elliot’s apartment, straightening things that didn’t need straightened. I had made the bed twice and was now giving it another weary eye.

“Please let me buy you a bed.”

“I can buy a bed if I want to.”

I growled and left Elliot to fuck around on his computer, not really looking at what he was doing. He usually wasn’t on it when we were together, but he said he had something to finish before Darlene got there.  

“Stop . . . fusspotting,” he mumbled without turning around and without missing a keystroke.

I stopped in my tracks and marched to stand behind Elliot’s computer chair.

“That’s what my nanny always said! She called me her little fusspot.”

“I know,” Elliot chuckled as he swiveled his chair around. “Your mom told me that. She said you’ve always been a nervous person, even as a child. And, it’s selfish, but I like it when you’re outwardly nervous—makes me feel more normal.”

Elliot scooted forward and ran his hands up my thighs, pulling me close to hug me, his head resting on my stomach as his hands cupped my ass.

I narrowed my eyes as I looked at what he was doing on the computer. It looked like he was creating a virus—

Elliot pulled open the button of my jeans with his teeth and successfully diverted my attention.

“Elliot! Your sister will be here any minute.”

“I’ll lock the door,” he said in a muffle as he started licking at the skin he had just exposed.

But it was too late for that.

The door to Elliot’s apartment flung open and Darlene came in, causing me to jump back from him so quickly I tripped and fell onto the mattress, causing Elliot to then tumble out of his computer chair.

I quickly rebuttoned my jeans and prayed to god for the mattress to open up and swallow me.

“Ew,” Darlene said, staring at the two of us.

Elliot rolled over onto his back, his sides shaking with a silent laugh until I kicked his shoulder and rolled off the bed.

I knew my cheeks were red, so I took a deep breath and gathered what respect I had left for myself and walked over to Darlene.

“Hi—sorry about that. Your brother’s a complete dick.”

Darlene grinned, and I was struck by how much she looked like Elliot when she smiled.

“Finally! Someone else gets it. I’m Darlene,” she said with a wave as she dumped her bag on Elliot’s table.

“Y/N,” you said with your own wave and embarrassed smile.

“I think you dislocated my shoulder,” Elliot said from his spot on the floor as he watched us both turn to look at him.

“Good,” Darlene and I said at the same time before looking at each other and laughing.

“Fuck. I’ve made a terrible mistake,” Elliot mumbled as he pulled himself up and back into his chair.

“Did you fix my virus?” Darlene asked as she moved past me to stand beside Elliot’s chair.

Elliot turned to look at her, clearly telling her to shut the fuck up with his eyes, but I spoke up.

“I can see it’s a virus. And you only popped the button of my jeans to distract me from looking at it.”

They both turned to look at me, twin expressions of incredulity, waiting to see what I would say next.

I crossed my arms and waited—I knew how to wait Elliot out.

“Darlene writes viruses and sells them to companies that make antivirus software.”

I raised my eyebrow, “Interesting niche.”

Darlene grinned, “We can’t all be corporate sellouts like you two.”

“Darlene,” Elliot warned.

“It’s a joke, douche,” Darlene huffed as she plopped on the bed.

“I knew this job would make you uptight—no offense, Y/N. I mean, someone’s gotta do it. Just never thought it would be my brother.”

“Do you . . . want a job? We could always use another tech.”

“No,” Elliot said, a look of horror washing over his face.

Darlene laughed and lifted her head to turn her eyes to me.

“So, you could just do that? Snap your fingers and get me a j-o-b?”

“You’re Elliot’s sister, his family. I’d do anything to help you—if you wanted it,” I added hastily.

Elliot and Darlene looked at each other, and Darlene laughed, laughed so hard a tear squeezed out from the corner of her eye.

“Elliot told me you were, like a good person or whatever, but shit. I don’t think anyone who hasn’t wanted to fuck me has ever offered to do anything that nice for me. Wait--you’re not into freaky siblin--”

“Darlene!” Elliot yelled, the vein in his neck popping.

Darlene raised her arms in a gesture of surrender and said, “Excuuuse me.”

I watched their exchange with a smirk of understanding. I did have three siblings of my own.

“Jobs aren’t exactly a scarce commodity for techs on Wall Street,” I said, crossing my arms and drawing their attention back to me.

“Just something to think about if you ever want some stability,” I added as Darlene continued to look at me like I was an alien.

“Elliot says you’re rich—”

“Fucking shut up, Darlene!” Elliot groaned, twisting his hands in his hair and standing.

“My father is rich, so yeah. I’ve never gone without,” I said with a slight head shake at Elliot’s distress.

“I’m so sorry about her,” Elliot said taking a step toward me while still glaring at Darlene who only rolled her eyes.

I chuckled, “It’s fine, El. She’s curious and clearly doesn’t beat around the bush—unlike you.”

“Ha!” Darlene said, raising her middle finger at her brother’s back.

This was . . . interesting, I thought. Not at all how I thought it was going to go, but there was something refreshing about Darlene, something childish in the same way there was something childish about Elliot—only on opposite ends of the spectrum. She had a child’s impetuousness, while Elliot had a child’s reservation. I wondered for the millionth time just what it was like growing up for the two of them because I had a feeling it was, at best, difficult. Most people shed those traits with maturity, and it was odd neither Elliot nor Darlene ever did.

I did enjoy Darlene’s assertiveness, even though I was certain it had gotten her in trouble over the years, but that’s what big brothers were for, right?

“Anything else you wanna know?” I asked as I sat on the edge of Elliot’s mattress.

“Since you both have fancy ass jobs for a fancy ass corporation, why the hell are we eating pizza in Elliot’s shithole apartment?”

“I told you,” I said looking at Elliot with a smirk.

Elliot sunk into his chair, sighing heavily before he popped the CD from his computer and tossed it to Darlene.

“Let’s go out,” I suggested. “Elliot and I had this debate before you got here, and I’m happy to say that he just lost because I was right.”

“Elliot needs a good check. He’s not always right,” Darlene said, glancing at him and giving him a smirk.

Elliot just looked at Darlene and shook his head.

“So, dinner in Midtown? Do you like seafood?”

“Fuck yeah.”

“I’ll make a phone call,” I said smiling, enjoying using my privilege to impress Darlene.

I wanted her to like me; she was the only family Elliot really had, and she could be a good ally if he ever needed more than just I could give him.

“El? Do you feel like going out?”

“Does it matter?”

I looked at him and wondered if our teasing really had bothered him.

“Of course it does,” I said with a soft tone as Darlene looked between us, watching our exchange with interest.

Elliot’s eyes ran over my face, and his lips gave me a ghost of a smile.

“I guess even Darlene likes a little nice.”

“Told you,” I said before I went to retrieve my cellphone.

As I made reservations, I could hear the quiet mumble of Elliot’s voice in the background and Darlene’s much less quiet answers. When I hung up with the restaurant, I ordered an Uber.

“Uber will be here in 15 minutes. Should give us plenty of time to make our reservation.”

Both Elliot and Darlene looked up at me, that twin expression again which was starting to unnerve me a bit. Getting up from the bed, Darlene took the CD Elliot gave her and shoved it in her bag. She pulled out her phone and checked it, her thumbs moving quickly as she answered a text or an email.

Elliot turned off his computer before turning his attention to me.

“Thanks for doing this,” he said quietly as he put his hands on my waist.

“I want her to like me,” I said into his ear as I hugged him quickly.

“She does,” he whispered back, pressing a barely-there kiss to my temple.

* * * * *

Dinner was fun and easier than when it was just Elliot and I sometimes. It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy quiet nights with Elliot; it was that, given what happened with Colin this week, I greatly appreciated the distraction. It was nice to get lost in Darlene’s stories, and as it turned out, there wasn’t much she wasn’t willing to share, talking almost nonstop about everything from her love life to her and Elliot’s childhood.

Elliot listened, but I could tell he wasn’t truly present. There was something about his sister that seemed to make him retreat further into himself. I wasn’t sure if it had something to do with me or if it was something to do with their childhood. After the Fourth of July, I hadn’t pressed Elliot. He seemed to be in such a good place that I didn’t want to open up a door he clearly needed to keep closed.

“Do you remember that, El?” Darlene asked.

“Hmm?” Elliot questioned, clearly not listening.

“That first time we went to the museum in Queens with Angela? The place you always ran away to?”

Elliot gave a half-convincing nod.

“Anyway, it has this really cool model of the entire city. You should check it out.”

“I’ve lived here forever and never knew it was there. I love finding spots in the city I’ve never visited.”

“We should go—all of us,” Darlene suggested, looking at her brother.

Elliot didn’t answer, which seemed to be something Darlene was used to. She gave him time, but when it became clear that was as far as she was getting, I spoke up.

“Are you busy Saturday morning-ish?”

“I keep my life pretty open to my whims,” Darlene said as she chewed her roll.

“I need to find a dress for this dinner thing next week. Do you want to come shopping with me? I could use a second opinion—and lunch would be my treat for putting up with my indecisiveness.”

“Sure,” Darlene said with a grin. “Let me get your number.”

She opened her phone and quickly created a new contact for me to enter my number. Elliot watched us with a little more interest now that Darlene wasn’t talking about their childhood.

By the end of the night, I felt like Darlene and I were on our way to becoming friends. When the Uber took us back to Elliot’s, I let them go back to his place alone to have some time, probably to talk about me.

Elliot gave me a look and a wave as he shut the door, and I could hear Darlene chastising him for not kissing me goodnight. I waved and shook my head, giving the driver my apartment’s address.

* * * * *

As it turned out, shopping with Darlene was fun. While I tended to err on the side of being reserved and polite, she was to the point, and I ended up finding a dress more quickly than usual thanks to her frank opinion.

We had lots of time before lunch to wonder through a few more boutiques and Darlene stopped to try on some sunglasses. She looked particularly cute in a pair of heart-shaped ones, and I offered to buy them for her as a thank you.

She accepted with a shrug of her shoulders and a grin, once again the complete opposite of her brother, which I told her.

“I know, right? Elliot said I get it from dad. He was never afraid to say what was on his mind.”

“Does he talk about your dad to you? Or your mom?”

“Not if he can help it. We had a pretty shit childhood. Dad died when I was 5, so I have trouble remembering him. It hurt Elliot—they were best friends. I think my mom was always kinda jealous of that and really took it out on him. Which is really funny because it only made us hate her more.”

“Is she still living?”

“Yup. But she’s in assisted living. Fuck if either one of us was going to take care of her when she started getting sick. When Elliot left for college, I counted down the days until I could get the fuck out of that house. Without him, it was depressing as shit.”

“So you two are really close?”

Darlene gave me a measured look before replying, “How long have you known Elliot?”

“Mmm, almost a year.”

“But, like, you haven’t been close until, what, like a few months ago?”

“We were pretty close at work from the start. I was one of the only people he talked to.”

“But you didn’t really hang out a lot?”

“No.”

“And, since you got close, nothing strange has happened?”

I stopped walking and turned to face Darlene.

“Strange as in . . . occasional memory loss?”

“Yes!” Darlene said, her face filling with relief. “I was fishing because I didn’t want to—you know, Elliot is the best person I know. I would do anything for him, anything to protect him the same way he’s always protected me.”

“I understand. There’s something about him that makes you want to give him a really big hug and tell him the world isn’t as shitty as he thinks it is.

“But fuck if he’ll let anyone. I mean, you’re the only real girlfriend besides Angela he’s ever had. And they had some sort of friends with benefits thing going on—she’s her own basket of freshly baked fucked up.”

I laughed, “What the hell did they put in the water where you’re from?”

Darlene chuckled and shrugged her shoulders.

“Anyway. Elliot’s had those weird blackouts since we were kids. I’m convinced it has something to do with keeping people at a distance, at least that was what it always seemed to be with us. But that shit works on your nerves and for a while Elliot and I just didn’t talk. I mean, we kept tabs on each other, but we didn’t see each other.”

“Well, I think you’re good for him. He needs people who care about him actively in his life. Being alone like he was—that’s not good for anyone.”

Darlene smiled.

“I’m glad he has you—not just because you’re rich, but you seem cool.”

“Thanks, but no worries. I come with my own, how did you put it? Basket of fresh-baked fucked up?” I asked through a laugh.

“That was a good description, huh?”

“It was. So, maybe you can help me figure out how I’m going to tell Elliot I’ve rented him a tux and he has to attend this event with me?”

Darlene threw her head back and laughed, clearly loving that her brother had just been sentenced to a night of boring horror, and we linked arms as we walked to a café around the corner for lunch, grinning as we guessed at his response.

* * * * *

I hung my new dress on the back of my closet door, making a mental note to go through my shoes to see what matched and to remember to tell Elliot he had plans on Wednesday night.

Spending the day with Darlene had been fun, but exhausting. Getting to know people was hard work, especially people as complex as the Aldersons.

Elliot had said he wanted to come over, so I left my door unlocked while I ran a bath, loading up on the bubbles.

As I watched the tub fill up, I thought that maybe I should give Elliot a key to my place. Elliot Alderson most likely wasn’t about to break up with the person he finally got the courage to tell he loved, so the gesture might be another nice piece of consistency for him (and for me).  

I stepped out of my underwear and slid into the tub, luxuriating in the warmth and the sweet scent of coconuts. I had almost fallen asleep when there was a soft knock on my door before Elliot pushed his way into the bathroom.

He gave me a soft smile and took a seat on the edge of the tub.

“So you do use this thing?”

“Everyone loves a good soak in the tub.”

I paused, then seductively asked, “Want to join me?”

“No,” Elliot said flatly, making me laugh. He was such an atypical man that it was refreshing at times.

“That’s okay—I’m wiped. Your sister is exhausting. She has more energy than a child.”

Elliot nodded, his eyes incredibly focused on my face.

“I like her, though. I want to spend more time with her.”

“I’m glad,” Elliot said with relief. “I wasn’t sure if she’d be too much for you. She’s too much for me sometimes.”

“She loves you, El. So much. It’s sweet.”

“How do you know?”

“Well, a) she’s your sister,” I said, sitting up a bit and shaking off my sleep. “And b) she said you were the best person she’s ever known. I’d say that means she loves you.”

“I really don’t deserve that. I’ve done some shitty things to her.”

“Haven’t we all? I mean, to our siblings. Erin told you all about the epic chip battle of 1996.”

Elliot snorted, “I hardly think that counts.”

“I was being funny. We weren’t about to rehash the time she fucked my prom date in our limo the first time you met the family.”

“What?”

“Yeah. Erin was evil to me throughout high school. Granted, she was addicted to pills and to boys—she was six shades of fucked up.”

“What—why?”

“Two excellent questions, both with pretty blasé explanations. She got in with the wrong crowd, loved the attention, and just got sucked into that shitty world. It took years of therapy, and she was in and out of rehab until she finally found a purpose. She’s one of the lucky ones—so many addicts can’t find their way back once they take their first hit.”

“Wow. Never would’ve guess that.”

“You didn’t hack them, did you?”

“What?”

“Don’t sound so surprised—I trust you, El, however, I didn’t define all the grey areas, did I?”

“Not really—but I just assumed the whole ask, don’t hack applied to everyone in your life.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmm.”

“Is there something you want to ask me?”

“No,” I said a little confused. “Should there be something I should be asking you?”

“No.”

“Okay then.”

“Do me a favor?”

“Sure.”

“Beside the front door, there’s a ring of keys on the very last hook closest to the wall. Bring them to me?”

Elliot got up without saying a word and returned a minute later, the keys jangling as he walked. He handed them to me, and I shook the bubbles off my hand before I searched for my apartment key and wriggled it off the keyring.

“Here you go,” I said, holding the little silver key out to Elliot who now looked like he had a mouth full of peanut butter.

“Huh?” he asked, his mouth barely parting.

“I want you to be able to come and go as you please—and it also means I don’t have to get up to answer the door anymore, or leave it unlocked if I know you’re coming over at some point in the evening. It’s a gift of convenience.”

“Are you . . . sure?”

“It’s just a key to my apartment, El. Not an invitation to our wedding,” I finished as I closed my eyes and didn’t bother to hide the smirk on my face. I could practically hear the pistons misfiring in his brain at the mention of a wedding.

“Thanks,” came his cautious, quiet reply.

I nodded my head, not bothering to open my eyes as I let the warmth of the water envelop me again.

[notyourmotherscopingmechanisms]

Water Bottles, Getting Rid of Stuff, and Social Media Goodbyes.

Hi, all.

This is it! Welcome to the first post on this experimental foray into talking about my brain, intentionally, and with a purpose in mind.

The post that led you here (from facebook, instagram, or twitter, if I got my shit together) mentioned that this post would be about the first few things I’ve done since the New Year to try and wrangle my life back into some sense of order, so I’m just gonna jump right into that. 

1) I bought a planner.

A real, actual physical paper, honest-to-god planner. 

This in and of itself is not much of a shock. I’ve bought a lot of planners in my lifetime, always excited to finally be one of those women—capable, powerful, every moment of their day accounted for in perfect handwriting—and reader, I am absolutely garbage at using them. 

So I bought another one. Makes sense, right?

I’ll tell you why: I think I finally figured out why I’m bad at using them. 

Every planner I’ve bought in the past has been one or both of these things: a month/week/day view, or an electronic planner (for my iPad.) These...did not work. The use cycle would usually go something like this: Overjoyed with my new beautiful book, I would spend an hour or two dutifully filling out the “month” views with absolutely everything I knew about at the time, and then I’d manage to use it for about a week before I realized I’d been forgetting to write in the “week” portion of the planner. This immediately triggers the guilt—I failed, I wasted part of such a nice book, what was the point, why did I even start....you get the idea. Of course, this is all ridiculous. The book never changed...but now it makes me sad to look at, and angry at myself every time I remember it. I can’t stand to use it anymore, because every time I pick it up, it’s a reminder that, according to me, I suck. So I put it away, and vow to never again buy a planner, or to do better next time. (I wouldn't.) 

Then, I read a post a few months ago that my dad sent me (I’ll have to look up the link later and edit this post to add it) that boiled down to something along the lines of “stop trying to do your tasks the way “normal” people do their tasks.” If you have a hard time getting your laundry sorted out because the hamper’s hard to get to, take the lid off the hamper. If making a sandwich is too much work, just eat the parts, no sandwich required. Shit like that. I sat with myself for a few weeks and said to myself, brain, how can I remove obstacles that don’t even seem like obstacles in order to make things less hard?

And then I learned the secret. 

Did you know they make planners that are ONLY a month view?

There’s another secret to this process, by the way—but it applies to a lot more than just planners. Through a bit of soul searching (and by a bit, I mean a lot of grumbling about what a materialistic, vain, optics-centered magpie I am at heart) I figured out that I’m at least 80% more likely to successfully use something if it’s pretty. If I love the way it looks, I am excited to be around it. I am delighted to use it. I am sad when it isn’t nearby. So, the month-view-only planner I bought is also covered in small flowers and made from beautiful low-tooth paper that feels good to write on. I also downloaded many, many, many beautiful habit trackers, goal planning pages, and other freebies from bloomplanners.com (they made my work calendar.) Highly recommend. 

2) I bought a water bottle.

I am probably the most dehydrated person you know personally at basically all times. I’ve literally gone to the ER with medical issues that, while genuine, were all exacerbated by massive dehydration. It’s not just that I hate the taste of water (even though I do) but also that I just...straight up do not remember to drink. Ever. And when I do remember to drink, I never remember how much I’ve had, what’s left to go, any of that crap. 

“But they make apps to remind you!” 

“You can log every time you drink!”

YES, CORRECT, but also may I remind you of the above “remove obstacles from my brain” epiphany from three paragraphs ago: if there’s more than two steps (realistically, more than ONE step) to getting from “I drank water” to “I drank this much water, and now have this much left to go to not die” 

I won’t do it. 

So, I bought myself one of these bad boys. #notanad 

The Hidrate Spark is a “smart” bottle that connects to my iPhone and my AppleWatch. Its connected app will remind me through the watch, as well as via pretty glowing lights on the bottle itself, numerous times a day that I need to drink. When I drink out of the bottle, a sensor will record how much I drank, and immediately log that info into my Health App on my phone. The app automatically uses the humidity and temperature at your location, your weight, your height, and real-time activity data from your watch or phone to update how much your water goal is in realtime. 

Notice how nowhere in that description in there is there anything I have to do to track my intake and hit my goal besides fill out my info in the app once, fill up the bottle, and drink out of it? Yeah, me too.

I’ve avoided buying this bottle for over a year, because it’s a $60 water bottle, and I have twenty water bottles already, and it’s “techie” and “unnecessary” and “silly” and “excessive” and all those other things people say about smart tech, but goddamnit, and ER bill costs more than $60 and I’ve been there four fucking times for this problem. I talked to my fitness director (I work for a YMCA, so, health and fitness woo) a couple friends, and my doctor about it, and everyone agreed it was a good decision, so I did it. I can’t say if it’ll work or not yet because I don’t HAVE it yet, but I promise to keep everyone apprised. 

Also, it’s pretty. 

3) I deleted an ass ton of people off my social media. 

I’ve never cared much about my numbers when it comes to social media, I’m not in it for those, but I have the same problem with my friends lists as I do with my real life: I add without thought and then people I never talk to, never see, never will see, and don’t have an effect on my life...take up space. I’m very happy for all of them, and I hope they have wonderful lives, but I don't need all of them front and center at all times. Plus, after the year I had last year, a lot of people needed to be let go from my life for my sanity and theirs. 

So, on January 2nd, I deleted 160 people from my Facebook friends list, and blocked 7. I thought it would stress me out more—I’m not about the numbers, but I always worry someone will take offense, or be upset. But once I did it, I felt literally, physically, lighter. It hasn’t had any measurable impact yet besides that initial weight-is-lifted feeling, but I know it’s a step in the right direction for my eventual journey towards weaning off a lot of social media platforms. (Did you know facebook is the actual face of evil in the internet age, and we’re all trapped beyond belief?)

4) I cleaned, or cleaned out, everything (and I mean everything) in my house.

This is the biggie! This is it! The goodwill pile is literally taking up every inch of available space in my car! 

(This is also one of those “Ooh, it’s embarrassing, I can’t talk about it” moments I mentioned in the original post. Whelp, here I am, talking about it! Cower in fear! Hide in your homes! Real Talk is coming!)

The Marie Kondo bug that bit all of us last year got me in tandem with a few months of violent living situation upheaval. As a result, I tried to go through my belongings with every moving day I went through, and use those hell experiences as motivation to just. Get. Rid. Of. My. Shit. I’d already started on this task a few years ago, but it’s difficult to describe how much....stuff I’d managed to collect in 18-19 years. It doesn’t take much past the first time you and one friend, or just you, have to move everything you own in a single day to go “oh my god I am never doing that again.” But, I know I’ll have to move again, and even if I didn’t...my stuff was stressing me out. The obvious solution was, and is, “have less stuff.” 

I go through my wardrobe once a month now and try to get rid of at least three things. If you’ve known me since high school or just after, you might remember the absolutely astonishing size of my wardrobe. I mean, truly ridiculous. I achieved my goal early last summer of “all my clothing must fit inside a single closet” and began extending that to the rest of my life with a general rule of replacing the thought “I need more storage” with the thought “I need less stuff.” Obviously, there are some things that really do need better or different storage, and I’m recognizing that, but I can’t actually describe how much better I feel with...literally probably 70% less stuff than I used to own. 

This is an ongoing process in every part of my life, and with the habits I’ve learned and the very particular anxieties that I have (I can’t get rid of this, I might need it one day/that person was so nice to give it to me/someone might get angry if I goodwill it) continuing towards a minimalist outlook will be a path I am on for literally the rest of my life. But it’s a good path—a worthy one—and I’m so absurdly relieved that I’m finally walking on it, regardless of how many stumbles, stops, and starts there might be. 

The bonus part of having less stuff is that it’s suddenly way easier to clean your house; which is what I spent all of Saturday and part of Sunday (today) doing. My combined to-do lists* numbered around 72 items, all-told, and I accomplished almost all of them—everything from sweeping/mopping/vaccuming to moving all the appliances in my kitchen out of their spots and cleaning the sides of them. All the laundry got did. All the shelves got dusted. The tub got scrubbed. The fridge got cleared out. My closet got organized. Even my bed got a facelift in the form of a new duvet cover and some swanky king size pillows. We. Cleaned. Everything. 

And damn does it feel good to have a clean space. It’s so. Much. Easier.  To keep tidied up when I’m annoyed at myself for ruining the room with clutter, or setting something down and not putting it away.* When you have less stuff, everything suddenly has a place...and when it all starts out in that place, it’s way easier to put it back and keep that momentum going.

*/**There is a flip side of this feeling, which is my anxiety this summer beginning to express itself as certain tendencies towards OCD behaviors, but I won’t go into that here. It’ll come up soon enough, but it will need to be another post about that topic specifically and what I did/am doing to work through it. Another post will be about my “listing” and how it works/doesn’t work for me, because these are tandem issues.

I’m sure there’s more than these, but I’m going to stop here.

Mostly because one of my other goals for 2020 is to do better at setting, and sticking to, a routine. (Hey, another post!) That routine involves me being in bed by 11:30PM every day, and awake by 9:30...and it’s 10:44. So for now, goodnight, and I hope this didn’t bore anyone to absolute tears. Even if it did...that’s okay, because this is as much for me as it is for anyone else. 

See ya!

[harryknowsme]

Themed Weekends Presents...

A reflection from @wevegottogetaway

I remember the day I first listened to Sign of the Times. April 7th, right? Well imagine my distress when I realized I just might have had to wait a few extra days…

Anyway here’s my story. In late August 2016, I left France to go and stay in the USA with a host family for a year. I had been struggling with some personal issues back home and I felt like changing environments and meeting new people would help me move on. It worked for month. My host parents became my spiritual family. I was living life to the fullest, finding my old self back and regaining the little confidence I had once lost. Then things turned sour. My host dad was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and all of a sudden I was back home (figuratively). Back in swallowing shadows and back in the cage of powerlessness.

Things went on, we did our best.

Then April came around and with it came Spring Break. My host family were cruisers; they loved to take their host students on cruises, and I was to be no exception, regardless of the home situation. It was just the perfect opportunity to breath and enjoy a cancer-free week.

Unfortunately, the day before departure my host father confessed he didn’t feel strong enough for it and didn’t want to ruin it for us if he were to go. He convinced us to go anyway, provided a friend of theirs would come and check up on him once a day.

So cruising we went. The ship was amazing, everything you could ask for, except it didn’t offer free-wifi. My host mother couldn’t really afford much more, since most of their money was spent on surgeries and treatments. I shall also specify that there is no data service in the middle of the Caribbeans… It didn’t help that the ship was halting on an island on the 7th as well, meaning my chances of finding any internet connection whatsoever were getting less likely by the minute. If I may say so, that ship had sailed (no pun intended).

Disheartened but resolute to enjoy the day anyway (you should have seen the sea there), I just kept repeating to myself ‘it’s just a few more days, no biggie’ like some kind of mantra. Later on, as we were exiting the ship and walking towards the beach, my host mother suddenly said that she’d already come to this island in a previous cruise and knew the best place to go: past the Margaritaville where all the tourists go and all the way down the beach to a miniature local bar (it was more like a hut, really). I was happy to go anyplace but then she added something that felt like music to my ears. To her recollection, the place had free wifi!

My excitement shot right back up and obviously the first thing I did when we got there was ask for the wifi password (I must have looked like a media-obsessed teenager but who cares). I actually had a solid chance to listen to what was gonna be 2017’s masterpiece.

We got beach chairs, cocktails and made ourselves comfy. The sea and the sun were ours to bask in, and there was nothing left in my way to the amazing former-boybander rockstar’s debut single. That day was gonna be a good one. The weather was perfect, I was in a paradisiacal location and for once all my worries had vanished from my mind.

Phone is hands, earbuds in, I was quick to pull up Spotify and there it was, written white on black: Sign of the Times. I couldn’t click on it fast enough, I was so elated. Then that piano intro started and the jitters in my belly vanished as well. It was just the music and the feel of a breeze caressing my face. Like everybody, I hadn’t known what to expect but one thing was sure, it absolutely exceeded my general expectation (and it was set pretty high, I mean, come on, it’s Harry).

I’ll admit the connection was dodgy at best so it took me ten minutes to go through the 5’40’’ audio. I couldn’t care less though, I was just so damn glad it was reaching my ears if any at all. I first focused on the music, the instruments, Harry’s beautiful voice (it’s always what I hear first), and I knew right then that the song would become huge. It was written to perfection. The right amount of drums, the right timing for the builds-up, the impeccable harmonization of Harry’s voice with the choir. I found it to be sensible and explosive at the same time. The whole song was mind blowing and yet it easily made its way to your soul as if it was yours already.

Then I rewound and paid close attention to the lyrics. And if I hadn’t crumbled the first time around, that truly signed the end of little old me. I know Sign of the Times is supposed to be the words of mother to her newborn child as she’s about to leave this world (and that in itself is a real heartache for me), but as a person who’s been dealing with depression (and still is, really) it’s like the song took a whole new meaning.

If you’ve ever felt like life is too much and the way to recovery overweighs the very little energy you have left; and if you’ve ever felt like each one of your attempts at getting better are just petty excuses for you not to totally give up, just listen to the words again. Because when the depression is eating away at me, I feel like I’ve got to get away from that dark place. Because I’ve lost count of how many people told me that I don’t talk enough and that I should open up. And because no matter what I do and how hard I try, I always go back to the same hell but that’s probably because I’m stubborn and I want to get it right my way. So I always find myself back to the excruciatingly sad place I’ve been before, with that little voice in my head that isn’t loud enough for me to listen to and that scolds me ‘when will you ever learn?’.

So yeah, maybe Harry kinda wrote a song about depression unintentionally so. At least he did in my book.

Anyway, I could also talk about that time I had to wake up at 4am to buy my ticket to Harry’s concert at the Olympia in Paris. I was still in the US when the tickets were made available and the European time release didn’t really work in my favor. But that day I must have had a little angel looking after me because by some miracle I got the tickets. It was all a hundred times worth it though, as I got to support our dear Harry at one of the most iconic French venues.

Ever since Sign of the Times I’ve been bursting with pride and I just can’t wait for what’s to come. I just know it’s gonna be phenomenal.

Happy Harry Styles weekend, loves!

[mandynicole450]

Game plan for this week

It's almost the end of September and finally I can wake up from this nightmare hopefully. For those of you who have followed my Facebook page, you know September has been a hellscape of a month. On September 3rd I jumped off the deep end and moved two towns over from where I was living and ended up deep in corn country AKA East Central Indiana. By September 8th I was unemployed after a psychotic episode on the job. I've barely gotten through the month by doing Uber around Indianapolis and I've landed a job working at a Dollar Tree location near my home. I start work at Dollar Tree on Tuesday. But before that I've got a few things I got to get taken care of. 1. I've got to get this apartment cleaned up and organized. I don't have much to do at this point and I'm mostly unpacked thanks to the help of friends. But my landlord is supposed to come by tomorrow to work on a major plumbing issue in my bathroom. let's just say the other day I had a shitstorm in my bathroom, and I'm not even kidding when I say that. Literally there was shit seeping around the toilet seal and coming up through the bathtub drain. Anyway, I don't want the landlord to see this place a mess. I want it to look like I'm a neat organized girl who has her shit together and hasn't spent the past 3 weeks wallowing in self-pity and unemployment. I also need to talk to the landlord about my air conditioning system. After a week plus of severe allergy symptoms I discovered the vent on my window air conditioner is literally caked with black mold and dirt. It is absolutely fucking disgusting and I'm surprised I haven't died from some fungal infection or something. 2. After the landlord is finished in my apartment tomorrow, I'm calling the local fiber optic internet provider in this town and I'm going to attempt to get internet installed here. I realize it's going to be a little expensive and I'm on a shoestring budget but not having internet access here is not only a pain in the ass but it also makes it to where I can't have anybody over because they don't want to use their data or they want to bring over their game console or something and I have nothing to connect it to. I also know you're probably thinking there's got to be cheaper options in town than fiber optic. I will admit there are cheaper options in this town, but it specifically says in my lease METRONET IS THE ONLY ALLOWABLE CABLE / INTERNET PROVIDER IN THIS UNIT. funny thing is there's cable and copper phone wiring in this unit as well, but I'm not allowed to use it? It doesn't make sense to me but whatever. 3. After I sign up for Metronet, I need to start signing up for Medicaid and snap. Thanks to local food pantry and yet again the assistance of friends, I've got a ton of food right now. But that food is not going to last forever. I have decided at this point it's time to get the ball rolling on government assistance. I'm going to be making $7.35 an hour part time at Dollar Tree, and unfortunately the gravy train of self-sufficiency without government assistance has crashed and burned. Not that it was really a gravy train to begin with, but according to the federal government I wasn't in poverty. but then again this is the same federal government that says $450,000 a year is middle class, so that shows what they fucking know. I also need to sign up for Medicaid so I can start getting my mental health issues taken care of. I've been out of the psych ward for almost a month now and I have yet to schedule the appointments because I don't have any sort of HealthCare coverage right now. 4. Once I qualify for government benefits oh, I guess I'm fortunately it's time to get an Obama phone. It should be barely sufficient for my needs, and allow me to have an Android phone without the hassles of paying 40 plus dollars a month for the service. I can use that 40 plus dollars that is in the budget for phone service currently for the internet service that I'm having installed, see number two. Hopefully once I get all these things done I'll be on at least a firm foundation for the most part. But there are still going to be a few loose ends. 1. My checking account with the local credit Union in my previous town is currently negative $82 thanks to a car insurance auto payment and Spotify plus he overdraft fees of going over. I am going to have to figure out how to get that kind of money. 2. I'm already two days late on my $41 car payment. by the time I get my first check from Dollar Tree, that is going to be $82 plus a late fee as there will be yet another car payment due. 3. I am currently eight days late on my freedom fast loan payment. That was a loan I took out to move out here. I owe $80 a month and at this point there's going to be a late fee tacked on to that as well. I have actually considered filing bankruptcy and running away from everything at this point. Problem is I'm worried about losing my car. It's going to be a long road ahead. Keep me in your thoughts and prayers everybody.

[blog-in-a-corner]

TSOTBL - Celebration

The gang had finished their work cleaning the lodge in under two weeks. An impressive feet.

“Wow, we finished cleaning the lodge with about seven days to spare!” Kim stated in cheer. “A good job to everyone, it's been very difficult these past weeks with no internet, no data, and a limited food supply, but we made it.” Aaron congratulated the others. “Hell yeah we did.” Lucinda added. “I know me and Zane weren't part of the original crew, but how about we have a tiny celebration party?! I think we've all earned it!” Aphmau recommended, trying to hype up everyone else. “It wouldn't be much but hey a party is a party.” “I'd totally be down for that!” Lucinda agreed in excitement. “Heck yeah!” Kim shouted in delight. “Sounds like a good idea.” Garroth replied. “”Sounds like a good idea” C'mon Garroth you gotta be givin’ me more hype than that! You're the ultimate party man don't fizzle out on me now!” Aphmau begged, in a light hearted manner. “Haha sorry! I guess I'm just a bit tired from the everything...” “Well, normally I would decline, buuuut this whole lodge has been a pain to deal with so sure, why not?” Aaron accepted, and nodded in agreement. “Yay!” Aphmau cheered. “I'm gonna get started on seeing what we can make!” She said as she rushed down the stairs. “Be careful Aph! You don't want to fall down the stairs!” Zane shouted, running after her. “I better go make sure neither of them fall down the stairs…” Aaron half-joked, following the two. “Now I have to make sure Aaron doesn't fall down the stairs. All of them together are like a pack of dominos.” Lucinda joked, following Aaron. “Well I guess I'll be on stand by in case anyone gets hurt, what're you gonna do Garroth?” Kim asked, looking to Garroth. “I dunno, I'm kinda tired today…” Garroth mumbled, looking to the floor. “Maybe you can rest for a bit in the lobby, y'know so we all can be together! Besides you being up in your room all day probably isn't good for you. I would know, I'm a doctor.” Dr.Kim insisted. “Why? We've been stuck here together for nearly two weeks, so what if I want some alone time?!” Garroth snapped at Kim. “O-Oh, s-sorry I didn't mean to make you upset…” Kim stuttered, caught off guard by Garroth's reaction. “N-No you didn't…you didn't offend me I'm just... getting kinda cranky I guess, I'm sorry for snapping at you like that.” Garroth said sheepishly, running his hand through his hair. “Ah it's fine, this lodge has been...an experience, to say the least.” Kim assured Garroth. ”Yeaaaah...” Garroth sighed in agreement. “I'll be down with you guys in a sec, okay?” “Okay!” Kim said, as she spoke a loud thump was heard followed by a crowd of screams. “Aaand there they go…” Kim muttered, as she ran out of the room. “Lucinda not you too!” She could be heard shouting.

Time had passed and Aphmau and Aaron we're almost done with the party snacks. Meanwhile Kim, Garroth, Lucinda, and Zane hung out in the waiting room, talking about the most important questions in life.

“So that's why we have anime now.” Kim stated, adjusting her glasses. “Interesting.” Lucinda mumbled in surprise. “Yeah it's a pretty weird history, goes to show the butterfly effect theory in motion though.” Kim replied. “Why exactly do you know this crap anyways?” Zane asked. “I watch a lot of anime and got curious.” Kim explained. “I suppose that explains the gudetama phone charm you have.” Lucinda stated. “Oh actually no, I've been playing with tamagotchis for a long time and the gudetama one is recent! So far I really like him.” Kim elaborated. “Cool! I had a tamagotchi once, it died after four days and I never played it again.” Lucinda laughed. “Oh boy you must've been sad.” “Yeah kinda…” Lucinda smiled, she looked to Garroth, who was laying on one of the couches, reading his book. “Hey Garroth did you ever have a tamagotchi?” Lucinda asked him. “Mhm.” Garroth uttered, not paying attention to the question. “Hey I'm talking to you!” “Mhm.” “Hmm….hey Garroth, have you ever killed somebody?” “Mhm.” “YOU KILLED SOMEONE?!” Lucinda shouted, in fake surprise. “Wait-what?!” Garroth responded shocked, Lucinda having finally gotten his attention. “Ha! That's what you get for reading that book all day when you could be talking with us!” Lucinda giggled. “Oh sorry!” Garroth apologized, embarrassed. “Geez Garroth I know I always have my nose in the books, but you've been reading that book almost nonstop, take a break!” Kim commented. “But I want to read, this book is very um, very interesting...” Garroth insisted nervously. “Heh, “Read”, just because there's a bunch of pictures in a book doesn't count as reading Garroth.” Zane rolled his eyes. “Right. I forget that. Perhaps I should coin a new term for people who read only pictures because words don’t exist in every day life.” Garroth muttered, keeping his attention to his book. “Um...anyway! C'mon Garroth just put the book away so we can all chat some more!” Kim insisted, tugging on the book slightly. “No! I mean-no, I'll put it down in a second.” Garroth explained, pulling the book away. “Where did you get that book anyway? It looks...kinda strange.” Lucinda asked, curious at the books strange design. “I found it when me and Kim were cleaning the library.” Garroth stated blatantly. “What kind of book is it?” Lucinda asked. “Um it's just...it’s an old one.” Garroth mumbled, somewhat nervous. “Garroth you know what I meant.” Lucinda questioned. “I'm not really familiar with genre terms for literature.” Garroth explained. “Hm. I see.” Lucinda eyed the book suspiciously. It looked strange, and something about it didn't sit well with Lucinda, but she couldn't figure out why. “Come to think of it, that's the same book I saw you with a while ago.” Lucinda thought to herself. “So anyways I'm just gonna put this away now so you guys stop bothering me!” Garroth announced, closing the book and getting up from the couch. “I'll be right back.” “Yay! Now we can all really get to talking with each other.” Kim cheered. “Yeah,” Lucinda nodded, as Garroth went up the stairs. “Sure.” “Guys the party snacks are ready!” Aphmau cheerfully announced. “It's about time!” Zane commented. “Garroth better hurry up for this or else he's gonna miss all the good stuff.” Kim remarked.

The gang has circled together in the kitchen, where the chatted and laughed for hours, discussing important matters of course.

“So that's what would happen if you shot a potato into lava.” Aaron explained. “Wow, amazing!” Aphmau commented in awe. “Okay but why exactly do you know that?” Zane asked, somewhat confused. “None of your business.” Aaron replied. “What-” “Man, I can't believe in just seven more days we'll get to leave this place.” Kim reminded. “Yup, and we'll all finally be back in the comfort of our homes…” Lucinda added. “I, for one, won't miss this place.” Zane remarked. “Me neither, this place looks nice but geez the whole experience has been awful. I rate it one star.” Lucinda agreed. “I don't think I'll miss this place, though something about it makes me wanna stay.” Garroth muttered. “Why's that?” Kim asked. “I dunno.” Garroth shrugged. “It's just how I feel I guess.” “It's going to be weird seeing my dad again.” Zane commented. “I usually only ever see him during Christmas.” “How come? I always visit my mom.” Aphmau asked. “He's always busy. Besides I don't care too much for traveling, if you hadn't noticed.” Zane explained. “I can relate to that.” Aaron said. “What's Garte like anyway?” Lucinda asked, curious. “I forget your the only one here who hasn't met him, even Kim met him.” Aphmau remarked. “To be fair Kim only met him because she was with us when we accepted this lodge job.” Garroth reminded. “Ah, right.” Aphmau nodded. “Garte is alright. The times I've met him he doesn't seem half bad, though he's usually very busy even in his free time.” Aaron elaborated. “Yeah my dad is great! I don't know how he made time for me and my brothers.” Garroth added. “Tt. Yeah.” Zane uttered, sinking into his chair. “I hate to be the one to say it, but it's getting late. We should all be getting to bed.” Kim suggested. “Ah yeah probably, not that I've been able to get any sleep these past few nights.” Lucinda mumbled. “Maybe today will be the day you get some rest then!” Aphmau added. “I hope so...” Lucinda grumbled. “Alright then. Goodnight guys!” Garroth announced, slightly rushing out of the kitchen and to his room. “Goodnight everybody.” Aaron stated, walking out of the kitchen. “C'mon guys, let's get going.” Lucinda said, as she, Aphmau, Kim, and Zane walked out of the kitchen and into their rooms.

____________________________________________

“The time is drawing near.” A figure we can all recognize, muttered to himself.

[lockieferguson13-blog]

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What You Must Know About Streaming Movies

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Top Choices of Streaming Movies

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New rentals are wholly priced at 4.50.  So you hit the internet attempting to locate the perfect location where you're able to download wii games.  Something as easy as a stunning scenic picture can actually relieve your tension and enable you to awake more rested whenever your alarm clock rings to signal the start of your day.

[purplesurveys]

1106

survey by mickey-mouse

Who was the last person you couldn't take your eyes off of? I haven’t been feeling that way towards anyone, be it from real life or someone on the internet or a celebrity, for a while.

Do you drink the milk from the bowl after you eat all the cereal? I’ll try to drink some of it, since I do think milk tastes nice haha, but I keep it in moderation so that my stomach won’t end up being too upset.

Have you ever kissed anybody accidentally? Oh wow, how does this even happen? Hahaha but no I haven’t.

Who was the first person to wish you a Merry Christmas last year? Most likely a family member. My friends and I usually greet each other late into the evening.

Do you think it'll be the same person this year? It will probably be family again, yeah. I just can’t tell which one would be first.

Is your display picture in black and white? None of my profile photos on all social media are.

Do you know anybody who has had an online relationship? I don’t think so. I have some friends who met their SOs through dating apps, but I think all of them have since seen each other in person. I’m not sure I know of anyone whose relationship has been entirely online/virtual so far.

What food are you always in the mood for? No matter how full I am, I will always take a slice of pizza or two if it’s ever served at a table. That or chicken wings or spicy tuna salad.

When was the last time you played Guitar Hero? Safe to say more than a decade ago. I had always preferred Rock Band since I found it more fun that switching instruments was a main part of its gameplay, whereas you were stuck with the guitar on Guitar Hero.

What friend could buy clothes for you and not have to worry what they bought? Angela. We have nearly the same sense of style and we find the same things cute, so if I ever had to make a friend control my wardrobe for the day I will likely trust her the most.

1 thing that your guy best friend doesn't like about you: I don’t have a guy best friend. Hans is my closest friend of the opposite sex; while I don’t think he dislikes anything about me, I’m sure he thinks I’ve acted dumb about love and relationships many times before. Which is fine, we’re very honest and blunt about those things and I actually appreciate it when he gets brutally honest with me.

How about your girl best friend? Again, I don’t know if Angela doesn’t like a certain trait of mine but she’s well aware of my past stupid decisions i.e. staying in a harmful relationship.

Do you loan your friends money? No, but I’m ready to lend to my closest friends should they ever be in need.

Are Lucky Charms really magically delicious? I dunno, I’ve never tried.

When was the last time you had Lucky Charms anyway? See above.

Who is the last person you called long distance? I don’t do video calls with friends living in other countries, mainly because I’ve grown apart from them haha. My mom will sometimes start calls with relatives living abroad though; I believe the most recent one was a group video call with my dad’s side of the family, which included an uncle who lives in New York.

Do you sleep with a nightlight? No; I would find this too distracting and bright.

Is Lil Wayne really the best rapper alive? I never thought he was one of the best to begin with. Some of the songs he’s featured in are fine but I don’t like his slurred style of rapping very much.

What is the first text in your inbox? Like...the very first one in my inbox? I scrolled all the way down and it’s from Frances - an orgmate who has since disappeared off the face of the earth and blocked all her friends on social media lmao - asking about an org-related thing three years ago. Wherever she is, I hope she’s doing okay.

Are you taller than your siblings? I am the eldest yet smallest child in the family. My relatives get a kick out of it, which is fine because I do too HAHA

What are the first letters of your friends first names on your top 8? Myspace? Was never active on it.

When was the last time you almost cried from laughing? I can’t pinpoint an exact moment for you but this happens a lot when I watch 2 Days 1 Night, so this has probs happened recently.

Do you have “photoshoots” with your friends/family members? Not with me as the subject – I’m very camera shy and turn into an awkward stick once I’m asked to pose. But I love taking photos of loved ones, especially an SO.

Are you generous? To a fault.

Are you excited for Thanksgiving this year? I don’t celebrate that.

Are you excited for Thanksgiving ANY year? Yeah, I still don’t celebrate that.

Any plans for the weekend? I had plans to start a new series and spend a lazy day watching YouTube videos, but we haven’t had internet all day today and it’s felt quite deflating to have the first day of my weekend taken away from me. I’ve been running on data which is...fine, I guess, but I can’t use too much if I don’t want to keep paying for it. That said I’ve only been able to do surveys and stream music today. For tomorrow, I wanna go to a coffee shop and perhaps even treat myself to ramen because I’ve been craving.

Do you lay your clothes out the day before? Before Covid happened I planned out my clothes the night before, but I didn’t lay them out.

Who was the last person you bought a gift for? Andi; got them a dress and a skirt.

What was the last song you had stuck in your head? My Limb has been repeatedly playing in my head all day.

Are you ignoring anybody currently? Not ignoring, more of I’ve already given up on them.

Do you curse at your parents in a different language? I don’t curse at my parents in any language, lmfao.

Do you get the mailman a Christmas gift every year? We don’t have mailmen, buuuuut the maintenance staff in my village (trash collectors, security guards, those in charge of trimming the grass, etc) will usually hand each household an envelope in time for Christmas. My family and I help them out and place a certain amount in all envelopes.

Are you afraid of lizards? They are very common visitors in homes here so no I’m mostly not. They move very fast and get freaked out when they see humans though, so sometimes I’ll be shocked by them suddenly scurrying away.

How legible is your signature? I don’t make it legible at all so that it’s difficult to replicate. I actually get a lot of comments on it because my signature is mostly a lazy scribble and I don’t actually spell out any part of my name, which exactly fulfills my goal of making it hard to copy.

Do you think anybody else has a bedroom EXACTLY like yours? I actually live in a neighborhood where the houses are the same models, so I can confidently tell you that there are around 10-20 bedrooms that look similar to mine. But as for being styled and furnished exactly like mine, I doubt it.

How hot are your neighbors? Lol uh I don’t pay attention to this particular trait. All my neighbors are your typical suburban families with young kids, anyway.

Do you have pictures of clouds on your cell phone? A lot. I like looking up at the sky from time to time.

Do you send compliments through text message? Sure, when it’s appropriate and only with close friends.

Do/did your high school theme colors match? I never thought they didn’t go well together, that much I can say.

Do you own any Nike shoes? Several.

Have you ever rode in a VW Bug? Never.

How about a Mini Cooper? Never have, would absolutely love to.

What was the last fast food place you got food from? Yellow Cab. I got two pizzas and pasta for my family.

When you invite people to your house do you usually hang out in your room? I never invite people to my house because it’s too far compared to where most of my friends live, and it would only be a big hassle for everyone. As for my room, the only people who’ve been in it are Gabie and Angela/Hans, the latter only once.

Have you ever seen your crush/current bf/gf cry? I don’t have any of these.

Do you own any Spongebob merchandise? I’m pretty sure we have a Patrick plushie we continue to keep around.

Do you have any food traditions with any of your friends? My orgmates and I frequented a certain bar near our university; we went there whether it was to celebrate the end of an exam-filled week, or if we simply wanted to spend an ordinary Thursday with a few drinks. A few months ago they were in danger of closing because of the pandemic, but I hope life has been kinder to them recently.

Do you like Gwen Stefani? Erm, not particularly. Some songs of her I like, but I’m not a passionate fan.

Do you know anybody with a thick Jamaican accent? No.

Are you closer to your mom’s side of the family or your dad’s? Mom’s. Aside from being able to see them more often, our humor is also similar.

Have you ever been to a haunted house? I’ve stared at one, but never gone inside haha.

Yes or no: red eyeliner? Do whatever you want with your face and makeup, man.

Yes or no: red lipstick? ^ Still applies.

Would you ever own a pet black widow spider? No.

Do you wear holiday themed clothing? I don’t think I own any, so no.

At 6:00 tomorrow night where do you think you’ll be? On my way home, or preparing to head home, I hope.

Is it night or day right now? Evening.

What time did you get up today? Like 5:30. I fell asleep on the rooftop and got to see the pretty sunrise and the sky gradually change colors :)

[whimsiesofanerdgirl]

Reading More Productively | Getting Into the Habit

If you’re anything like me right now you’re shaking your head thinking, how did I not finish as many books as I had liked to this year? Or the classic “why am I not reaching my Goodreads goal?” Well, my friend, that means you have to read a lot smarter and no, I don’t mean more “intelligent books.” Having trouble getting back into reading can be a result of many things and I’ve noticed quite a few of these from my own reading habits.

LACK OF INTEREST

You might be finding yourself not having any inspiration to sitting down and having yourself a good old reading sesh. This is usually because you’re probably a mood reader and not only that, you’re bored af with your TBR list. You need to cut off and forget those books that aren’t serving you any purpose and are basically TBR place holders. If you need some more ideas on how to sort yours read one of my past posts on how to sort your TBR into a more manageable list.

FOLLOW BOOK BLOGGERS, BOOKTUBERS, AND BOOKSTAGRAMMERS

Sometimes all it takes is to follow someone who has similar tastes in books as you. Don’t waste your time following someone if you have nothing in common with your reading. It makes more sense to follow someone who digests the same genres and authors that you adore. Plus, you find another book bestie to read along with! :)

YOUR FOCUS NEEDS MORE FOCUS

Not gonna lie, this is probably my number one problem and I’m probably speaking on behalf of like 90% of other readers when I say that I have issues getting off the internet. Specifically as readers we struggle with this the most because we use the online world to find more books to discover and we are starving for knowledge or to immerse ourselves in another person’s world. This is completely okay, but taking all your spare time to check the latest tweets on Twitter? Eh, not so okay for your TBR pile. Unplug from the data and wifi so you can truly dive into that book that’s been sitting on your bedside table for over the past week.

JOIN IN ON #READATHONS

Sometimes knowing that you’ve got a community at the touch of your fingertips that’s reading at the same time as you makes the simple act of reading more fun! If you’re at a loss of which to follow go read one of my recent posts to discover some new readathons!

GRAB A READING BUDDY

So maybe you’re not the large crowd reading type? That’s okay too because there’s always the option of finding someone IRL or online to buddy read with who has similar reading tastes. A lot of times all it takes is a quick tweet/hashtag #buddyread/post/DM to ask others out there who’d want to join you.

START A BOOK CLUB OR JOIN ONE

So what if you’re an inbetweener? That’s cool, you can always create your own book club or find one that’s already established. Just search #bookclub on any of the social apps you use to find one to your liking. When in doubt look into some book clubs for your favorite genres in Facebook groups. If you need any tips on how to start a book club read another post from this #Bookmas series.

TAKE PART IN THE #READINGAFTER10 CHALLENGE

It’s funny, I’ve been telling myself to do this for like the past year. No joke. 😂 BookTuber, Ariel Bissett, started this challenge awhile back hoping to contribute more of her time reading versus wasting time elsewhere. You can search into the challenge and see what others have been up to by looking up the hashtag on Instagram. Ariel at one point explains that she fell off the bandwagon not long after, probably due to being so busy with all her creative bookish YouTube content that she’s always up to! Anyways, just because she may not be participating at this moment doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t give it a go! Let’s bring back this movement! Honestly, there’s a few awesome benefits to this. 1) Less time on social media = less exposure to blue light on your phones. This means that you have an easier time falling asleep at night. 2) More reading time. 3) Finally catching up on the top books of your TBR pile.

SUBSCRIBE TO A BOOK BOX

When you’re getting a newly released book every month you’re more inclined to read it if there’s others getting it too. Some book boxes even include fun activities and communities that you can be a part of. So if you’re feeling out of place with no close friends that read this would be a great option for you! I’ve conveniently made a list of 18 book boxes the other day that goes into detail of what they include as well as the current prices (as of November 2018).

USE SOME APPS AND PHONE SETTINGS TO DISTRACT YOU FROM ACTUALLY BEING “ONLINE”

FOREST

If you have a love for greenery and artificial woods then the Forest app is for you! This is seriously one of the most adorable productivity apps you can download on your phone or use via your browser (if you have easy access to a computer). Every day you start off with a clean slate of grass and the goal is to grow your forest as much as you can in a day. It’s fun because over time you rack up coins to buy different kinds of trees to grow! You can also sync your account from mobile to desktop if you have other stuff you want to work on like I do with book blogging! Another great perk is the ability to block yourself from certain apps and websites which is helpful against your online weaknesses.

POMODORO

This is an app a lot of people use when they need to get some sort of task finished, but it can easily be used as a timer for reading! Simple set the timer for 25 minutes and keep reading! If the timer goes off, feel free to either keep reading or move onto something else that needs to be done in your daily tasks. This is such a short time frame that it will be simple for you to dedicate only 25 minutes a day to reading or more sessions if you’d prefer.

STAYFOCUSD

For those of you that like to be on a desktop/laptop throughout the day this is another great service similar to Forest where you can block specific websites from being used while being in focus mode for specific amounts of time. This one is available as a Google chrome extension.

STAY FOCUSED

Almost the same name as the previous one I’ve mentioned as well as similar features, but they take it a step forward by letting you choose a maximum amount of time to spend on particular sites/apps as well as which days of the week. This is an app offered for Android. I have mainly android based devices so if you’re an iOS user your best bet is to search for similar apps/extensions as the ones I’ve mentioned above. Some may or may not be offered via both iOS and Android.

RAIN SOUNDS

If you’re a person that needs some kind of noise in the background, but isn’t distracting (like sound lyrics) you should look into downloading the Rain Sounds app. They have a variety of different tracks of rain in different atmospheres and environments and you can edit the specific sounds you’re hearing as well..

AIRPLANE MODE

Though, not QUITE as fun as using the Forest app you can always set your phone to airplane mode (or silent for those of you with better willpower). It’s the easiest and quickest way to get you sucked into a book.

I hope that I helped you figure out some new ways to get back into the habit of reading. I know it can be hard with the online world that we have, but your TBR pile misses you! Pay attention to it! Give it some love! :)

Check back on my socials, join my newsletter, and/or come back here tomorrow to read another #Bookmas filled post!

Read my other posts in the #25DaysofBookmas series!

Subscribe to my blog so you never miss another post!

Learn more about me - your friendly, interweb book nerd! :)

Follow me where I’m social:

Twitter: @whimsiesofanerd

Instagram: @whimsiesofanerdgirl

Goodreads: @whimsiesofanerdgirl

Pinterest: @whimsiesofanerd

Facebook: @whimsiesofanerdgirl

Have a suggestion or want to get in touch? Email me: whimsiesofanerdgirl@gmail.com

[tellegypsywanderer-blog]

Jambo (greetings) from Tanzania.

My apologize for the delay in posting. I have not had the internet for the past few days.

It has been a good and fairly quiet couple of days adjusting to the time change and culture. I arrived into Tanzania sleepy, and went straight to bed around 6:30 pm. Which i think in Pacific time is about 8:30 am. I slept until about 2:30 am and was up for most of the day.

I feel very fortunate to have V. And N. very sweet married couple here to help me settle in. V. Spent her career an english as a second language teacher. And N. worked in computer programming. They are both retired now with grown children. V and N were approaching the end of their trip upon my arrival. They spent the first month of their travels touring the Serengeti on a Safari trip. And spent the last month here at GHTA teaching english and business. Yesterday they took me under their wing and brought me out to explore the town. V and N will be departing tonight, back home to the states. Even though I only spent one day with them, I can already tell i will miss their energy greatly.

I am staying in the town of Moshi, which is located at the foot of Mount Kilimanjaro; the highest mountain in Africa. Moshi has approximately 150,000 citizens. The town is busy and compact, with a significant flux between lower and upper class. Much of the main roads are paved while the connected streets are dirt roads.

I’m staying about a twenty minute walking distance from city centre. I’m neighbours with some chickens, goats and roosters that like to keep things lively at sunrise. And down the street from a Mosque and a football stadium that keeps things lively throughout the rest of the day.

There is one other volunteer living in residence with me (K.). She arrived about a week before me, But was away, climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro, until yesterday afternoon. K. is also from Canada and recently graduated from her undergrad program with a study in math and business. I’m happy to have someone to embark on this journey with me (even if she has not come out of her room yet today; i’m hoping she is just feeling tired from her week long hike and plans to come out sometime over the next three weeks).

I had nightmares last night, which is a pretty typical sign that I am feeling stressed or overwhelmed (even if I’m too stubborn to admit it). I woke up feeling emotional and in over my head today. Like holy shit i’m halfway across the world, in Africa, and am supposed to teach this amazing and resilient group of women skills to help with their futures. Who’s idea was this anyway?Oh right it was mine. Sooo I spent most of today trying to get myself a bit more organized with the curriculum, (i’ll be taking over the english curriculum from V) and trying to get a better sense of the currency, 1500 shillings is about $1 cd; I’ve made myself a little cheatsheet to memorize the bills (thank goodness they didn’t ask me to teach math!!!)

I should have internet data on my phone by the time I’m posting this, so I wont feel so confined to the house and will be able to go to town on my own to get groceries and supplies without the fear of getting lost (thank Steve Jobs for google maps).

So thats whats new with me so far. The overwhelmedness has passed for now (i should also probably start practicing using proper english). But I’m 100% sure it will loop back around again.

Hope you are all doing well.

Thanks for stopping by

Xx Chantelle