#i think because you only got one free bulky items pick up a year

[sweetfirebird]

Previously unlocked American adulthood type achievement... scheduling a bulky items garbage pickup from the trash company.

lol the options were call or email guess which one I went with

[evil-fork]

Yandere Narancia x Reader

warnings: violence, blood, stalking, angst

----

A sinking feeling settled deep in the pit of your stomach as you hurriedly ducked behind the corner of a pastry shop. You clenched your purse closer to yourself, chest heaving as the reality of the situation finally sunk in.

He wasn't going to stop, was he? You had thought he moved on, and yet here he was--stalking you from a distance. Did he not know that you'd noticed him? And how did he always know where you were?

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, remembering all of the events that led up to this.

You first met Narancia two months ago.

It was late in the evening and you had just finished buying groceries. You were in a hurry, trying to get back to your apartment before the sun went down.

About five minutes into the trek back home, two bulky street thugs approached you from the shadows. Before you could even react, one of them roughly ushered you into an alleyway. The other stood at the entrance, glancing around for any witnesses.

Your heart leapt to your throat when you spotted the glint of a knife. The groceries clutched in your hand slipped through your fingers and clattered to the ground with a damning thud.

"Look--there doesn't have to be any trouble," the dark-haired man said in a rush. "Just hand over the cash and you can go."

You were frozen in shock, unable to move. You knew that you should reach for your bag and do as you were told, but for some reason you couldn't take your eyes off of the blade.

Would he kill you after he took the money? He couldn't be serious about letting you go unscathed, right? You'd seen their faces. But trying to run wouldn't end well for you either--you were unarmed and outnumbered.

Apparently you had taken too long because all of a sudden, the knife was pressed up against your cheek. A small bead of blood trailed down from where it dug into your skin. You felt the burning sensation of hot tears prickling the corners of your eyes.

"Hurry it up already! Do you want this to get more ugly?" The man snarled, drawing closer to your face.

You tried to flinch away, but you couldn't retreat any farther--your back was pressed up against the cold brick wall. He had you cornered.

As the knife pressed down harder, a loud gurgling sound suddenly broke the silence. Startled, the thug withdrew slightly to look towards the entrance where his partner was stationed. It gave you enough time to push him away with both of your arms. He stumbled backward with a yelp so you made a break for it.

His hand shot out to grab you again, but before he could wrap his meaty fingers around your wrist, another hand reached out and pulled you forward. You were pushed behind the newcomer protectively as he stood in front of you like a human shield.

"Get your hands off of them, you bastard!"

Your savior promptly aimed a well-timed punch straight into the thug's nose with an enraged shout. The man let out a pained cry and clutched at his nose as blood spurted forth, staining his hand with a river of red.

But the new arrival didn't stop there--he rushed forward to land another punch and when the thief fell down to the ground, he reeled his foot back and began to furiously kick the man's curled up body. He cursed exclamations of "Asshole!" and "Motherfucker!" inbetween kicks, each strike seeming to gather more and more force.

You were immensely grateful for his help, but you couldn't just stand around and watch as he beat a man to death, deserving or not.

Taking a tentative step forward, you stuttered out, "H-hey! I--I think that's enough! He's unconscious...!"

Your words seemed to break him free of whatever trance he'd been put under. He froze mid-kick before lowering his foot back down to face you. The rage that had previously occupied his face was all but gone, instantly replaced with a good-natured smile. He subtly stepped in front of the bloodied and beaten body, almost as if to hide it from your view.

"Hah--sorry about that! I guess I got a bit carried away," he said sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. "I had to make sure he couldn't get back up to hurt you. I'm Narancia, by the way!"

He held out his hand eagerly for a handshake.

It was spattered with blood.

You stared at it for a moment, unsure what to say.

"Oh! Whoops," Narancia immediately withdrew his hand to wipe the blood off on his...skirt--thing? When his hand was sufficiently clean enough, he offered the limb back out to you.

This time you took it without question, not wanting to upset him. He'd saved you, but you didn't know what to make of his casual regard for being covered in blood. It screamed danger.

Narancia shook your hand vigorously.

"(Y/n)," you introduced. You didn't see any harm in giving him your first name. "Thank you. If you hadn't come, I don't know what would've happened..."

As you went to pull your hand back, his hand tightened for a moment. You tugged a bit harder and he finally released it, his hand twitching at his side.

A moment of silence passed before he noticed your discarded grocery bag. The contents were splayed across the concrete, having rolled out of your bag when you dropped it earlier. His eyes widened at the sight, and he snapped into action.

"Ah! Your groceries! I'll get them up for you!"

Before you could protest, he was already moving to pick up all of the fallen items. Once they were all gathered up and placed inside your bag, he strolled back over to you. You thanked him and reached out to grab the bag, but he pulled it back at the last moment.

"Hey--it's really dark out! It would be safer if I walked you back home, right? There could be more of those guys still hanging around," he said, looking at you worriedly.

You didn't exactly want to lead a stranger back to your apartment, but you didn't want to walk home alone either. It was dark and the streets would be even more dangerous than before. Logically, you would be safer with him--someone who genuinely seemed concerned about your well-being.

You nodded. "Alright."

The two of you carefully stepped over the other body blocking the exit, Narancia holding out an arm to steady you. You smiled softly, your anxiety finally settling as you both walked. Narancia chattered away about his favorite foods and how you had the same tastes as him, having noticed the pizza sauce in your bag. You told him about your favorite recipe and he listened keenly, despite admitting that he wasn't much of a cook himself.

Before long, you were already standing at the entrance to your apartment building. You had such a great conversation with Narancia that you completely lost track of time. Once again, you sincerely thanked him for all of the help. The night could've ended much worse for you.

As you took your bag back, you paused at the feeling of his hand on your cheek. You looked up at his face, which had gone completely blank. All except for his eyes, that is. There was something dark swirling in the depths of his violet eyes--some emotion that you couldn't put a finger on.

You felt a shiver crawl down your spine and you pulled away, covering the trail of dried blood with your own palm. "I'll clean this up later. It's not as bad as it looks," you said reassuringly.

His eyebrow twitched once, and then a wide smile stretched over his face. "I've been cut before in the same place! And look--" Narancia pointed to his unblemished cheek. "No scar, or nothin'! It should heal just fine, I promise!"

You simply smiled back, inwardly wondering how many fights he must have gotten into in his youth. It was probably a lot, if tonight was anything to go by.

"Well, it was nice to meet you, Narancia," you said sincerely. "I wish it had been under better circumstances, but still--thank you. Be careful getting back home yourself, okay?"

Narancia seemed extremely touched by your words, an expression of complete adoration creeping over his face. He nodded enthusiastically. "I will! I'll see you around, yeah?"

"Of course! It's a small world."

And that had only been the beginning.

Even during your first encounter with Narancia, the signs had always been there. When the news reported the deaths of two serial muggers the day after, you hadn't even thought to look closer at the faces pictured on the TV. You'd gone on with your day, too worried about getting ready for work and not even thinking to put two and two together.

Everything started out fine. You would "happen" to run into him, and the two of you would get along very well--laughing and giggling over some silly joke of his, or even discussing your favorite music artists over lunch. It didn't take long for him to wiggle his way into your social circle, soon becoming a treasured friend among few.

Unfortunately, all good things come to an end eventually.

You don't know precisely when it happened, but Narancia started to become very...clingy. Slowly but surely, it was like your entire life began to revolve around him and him alone.

Whenever you wanted to make plans to hang out with another friend, he was always there to convince you otherwise. He would tell you about how he only had his family to talk to, and that you were his first real friend in years. It would make you feel bad for even considering leaving him alone.

But then he started to insert himself into your life even more, pushing the boundaries as far as he could.

You'd come home to find him waiting on your couch, uninvited. If you hadn't recognized his familiar clothing, you would have called the police.

The door had been locked--only you had the key.

"Narancia?" you said, desperately wanting to give him the benefit of the doubt. "How did you get in? The door was locked..."

"Oh, that?" He slapped a hand over his pocket. "You weren't here so I just used my knife! I hope you don't mind!"

You were at a loss for words. The way he admitted it so casually left you with an uneasy feeling. Did he really think breaking and entering was acceptable behavior? You could overlook many things when it came to Narancia, but this was too much.

"...I actually do mind, Narancia."

"Don't worry, nothing's damaged or anything!" Narancia assured you, standing up to show you the intact doorknob. He looked almost proud.

"T-that's not the issue here," you sputtered weakly. "You just broke into my apartment--why did you do that?"

He finally seemed to realize that something was wrong. His face scrunched up and he looked at you with uncertainty. "I thought people who were dating are supposed to let themselves in...?"

Dating...? Where had he gotten that idea from?

"You think--" You stopped to gather your thoughts.

Athough he was greatly overstepping your boundaries, you still couldn't bring yourself to treat him too harshly. Narancia was a child at heart, he couldn't comprehend why what he was doing was wrong. You had to be careful with this.

You took a deep breath. "Narancia," you started. "What made you think that we were dating...?"

"We've gone on so many dates already!" He looked at you as if it were obvious, gesturing wildly. "And we hang out all the time! You have my phone number--of course we're dating!"

You slowly shook your head. "No, Narancia. We hang out as friends. We're not dating."

Narancia looked like a lost puppy. Your heart clenched painfully inside your chest. "Then what do I need to do so that we can date? Please, tell me! I'll do whatever you want!"

You wanted so badly to reach out and comfort him, but you knew if you did it would only give him the wrong idea. He needed to learn that your friendship wouldn't end in romance, as you didn't feel the same way. You saw Narancia as too much of a kid, almost like a younger sibling.

"I'm sorry," you apologized solemnly, averting your gaze. "I don't see you that way. I can only be your friend--nothing more." Better to honest with him, than to dance around the issue.

Narancia marched up to you and gently grabbed your chin, tilting your face up so that you would look him in the eye. "Am I moving too fast?" he asked, desperate to understand. "Is that it? I'm sorry if I did something wrong!"

You were trying to spare his feelings, but it seemed like he was going to make you say it outright. "You're barely an adult, Narancia. I see you more as a younger brother."

The emotion that flickered through his eyes in that moment could only be described as despair. "B-brother...?" His expression crumbled under the weight of your words.

You looked away as guilt began to eat at you.

"I--" His voice sounded choked, and you could tell that he was trying his best to hold back tears. Narancia lowered his hand and stepped past you, toward the front door. "I've gotta--go." A sniffle. "I'll...call you later, okay...?"

From that day onward, nothing was ever the same.

Narancia would send phone call after phone call, begging you to rethink your decision. He told you that he would do whatever you wanted--that he would change and become more mature if you would just see him as a man. You told him that you weren't looking for a relationship, but even that didn't work.

Eventually, you were forced to make a tough decision. He was becoming too overbearing, refusing to listen to anything you had to say. You couldn't even get through dinner without your phone blowing up from multiple missed calls. There was a point where enough was enough, and you truly believed that this was that point.

You grabbed the phone and held it up to your ear.

"(Y/n)! You answered! Just hear me out, what if I--"

"Narancia," you said, cutting him off. "If you won't respect my wishes for us to remain friends, then I don't think I want to see you anymore. I'd hate to lose you as a friend, but this is getting to be too much...

There was nothing but silence on the other end.

"Hello?" you tried. "Narancia...?"

You were answered with a click as the phone abruptly hung up. As you set the phone back down on the table, you tried to gather your thoughts into something coherent. Perhaps it was for the best that he responded in that way--you definitely needed some space.

The following few days were like a blessing. It seemed that Narancia had finally accepted that he couldn't woo you over. The phone calls stopped completely after that night. You didn't see him around town anymore, but you understood why. Sometimes distance was the best cure for unrequited crushes.

Apparently, you were wrong.

It started a week after your last phone call with Narancia.

Whenever you would leave your apartment building, you'd start to get the feeling that you were being watched. The hairs on the back of your neck would stand up, and you would feel on edge for the rest of the trip. Sometimes you'd even see a glimpse of familiar colors out of the corner of your eye, but when you turned to look, it would disappear.

You didn't want to believe that it was him, but your suspicions were finally confirmed.

You opened your eyes to stare out at the wall of your hiding place, purse still clutched tight to your chest. Your breathing was elevated, your anxiety skyrocketing. He'd been following you all this time, hadn't he?

Not knowing what else to do, you dug into your purse, fumbling for your phone. You could call the police. Except, you didn't have any proof that he was stalking you...and he hadn't done anything to you yet. Would they even take you seriously? What were you supposed to do...?

A thought suddenly occurred to you.

...You still had Narancia's number.

Hands shaking, you brought your phone up to your face to scroll down to his contact information. The digits stared back at you ominously as your finger hovered over the call button. You would tell him to stop, and if he didn't--you would call the police.

You finally pressed dial, waiting with bated breath. There was an echoing click as the call was immediately picked up.

"Narancia," you quickly whispered into the speaker. "Please stop this. I know you've been following me. It's scaring me..."

"You called! I knew you would!"

His response didn't come from the phone.

The phone slipped between your fingers as you looked over. Narancia was leaning up against the opposite wall with his arms crossed, a victorious grin lighting up his face. You felt the world tilt around you.

He pushed himself off of the wall to come closer.

"I asked the gang for relationship advice and they told me about this old saying!" Narancia scratched the back of his head. "What was it again...? Oh, right! Something about setting the love of your life free, and if they come back it was meant to be!"

You froze when he threw his arms around you, hugging you tight. He held on to you as if you would disappear, your face pressed up against his toned chest. You wanted to say something--anything, but you couldn't seem to formulate any words.

"And you called! You came back! Looks like it was meant to be, (Y/n)!"

[stevemoffett]

A Hard Nap, The Fall of Math, The Star Wars Holiday Special, Disco Point, and There You Are

In January last year, I noticed a sign in myself of the same cancer my dad had back in 2008. Unlike the usual symptoms that set off my paranoia, it wasn’t some vague feeling, it wasn’t an intermittent pain, and it wasn’t a general ill feeling—it was clear and unambiguous, out of the ordinary and one of those symptoms that, if you google it, is under the list of “call your doctor if you experience any of the following.”

It was also nonspecific: this symptom could mean cancer, but it could also mean about five other cancer-unrelated conditions. I called for an appointment that morning with my general practitioner, who said that the earliest available date was about two weeks later.

I knew that the only way my fear would be effectively relieved was with the one sure-fire diagnostic tool for this type of cancer, one that’s recommended for everyone, but not until about age 50: a colonoscopy.

For the two weeks before my GP appointment, I mentally prepared for death. For the record, I do this every time I interpret my body’s signals as cancerous, but the mental preparation usually stops after a few days when the symptom either goes away or when a clear alternative cause presents itself. This time, I didn’t get that kind of relief and, in fact, the symptom repeated more than once between setting the appointment and going to it. Each time, it was like an intrusive thought come to life: you’re going to die. You’re going to go through surgery and chemotherapy like Dad and you’re either going to die early, or find out like he did that the cure is worse than the disease, or maybe you’ll hang on just long enough to experience both.

Winter mornings in Texas can sometimes be surprisingly cold. While stepping out the door on a midsummer morning is like walking into someone’s hot exhale, as you might expect, a 33-degree morning is more like a slap in the face. When I packed everything I figured I’d need to move here a couple of years ago, I threw away my winter coat, thinking, I won’t be needing this anymore. (The coat was also about ten years old at that point.)

My first winter in Texas, I layered a bunch of shirts underneath a light jacket and wore a scarf on freezing days. The second winter, I decided that I’d had enough of being cold. After all, I rationalized, here in Texas it was monetarily possible to never have to feel cold again if you really don’t want to. So I bought the warmest coat I could find, an unstylish, bulky parka made by Caterpillar, the company that makes construction vehicles. No more layering, no more checking the weather before leaving in the morning. I could just put this coat on and not worry about it.

But now, under the shadow of a cancer scare these January mornings, wearing the big coat made me feel less like I was smarter than the weather and more like I was trying to smuggle a terminal disease wherever I went. Under my coat, tie, button-down shirt, undershirt, skin, fat, and muscle, something was growing silently in the dark. While maybe it had slipped up and showed some of its handiwork to me, it was already too late to do much about it now.

Since it has affected my life several times before, and since it is such an exquisite mixture of dread and uncertainty, cancer is one of my mind’s biggest bogeymen. I feel personally insulted by the idea of it. I treat you so well, body—why would you betray me? Was I not nice enough? Is this poetic justice for my vanity? Is it, as the old anecdotal saying goes, due to my worrying?

Not only did I feel like I was smuggling cancer under the big coat, I was also warming it up by drinking my coffee. I was feeding it directly when I ate something too sugary. And I was probably even giving it an evil sense of satisfaction when I got stressed out about it. If I was able to keep my mind off it by working in the lab, mixing and pipetting, using kits, and doing arithmetic in my head, it would come crashing back into focus when I was pulling my gloves off to wash my hands.

I pulled up incognito mode on my phone’s browser during my breaks, googling “5-year survival rate colon cancer age 35.” “Cancer staging colon prognosis.” “Colon cancer smoking.” “Colon cancer smoke one pack in college.” “Colon cancer smoke one pack 18 years ago.” “Colon cancer smoke one pack after seeing Luke Wilson smoking in The Royal Tenenbaums.”

At home, I suddenly started noticing the expiration dates on my nonperishables. What will last longer, I thought, the freshness of this baking soda, or me.

I knew I wasn’t going to be comforted by the first GP visit. After all, they’re usually the first stop to a specialist, unless you have a PPO insurance plan, which I don’t. The doctor listened to my symptoms and family history. “Well,” he said, “Given your history, it’s a good idea to refer you to a GI. But, you seem like you lead a healthy lifestyle otherwise, with none of the other risk factors, so we’ll see what he says.”

I made the GI appointment and had to wait two more weeks for it, with the same circular worrying and googling. At the GI appointment, I sat in the waiting room, the youngest patient there by a few decades, and I felt a little bit ridiculous. On the other hand, I’d also just read a harrowing story about a woman in her late 20s who had colon cancer and died from it. That was a real person, I thought, who at the first phase of it probably went through all the same feelings I was now, the I’m-being-ridiculous and is-this-worth-the-time-and-vacation-days, all the way up until her diagnosis. Not just because I was scared, I felt a pang of sympathy. A disease of the old picking a victim from the young is terrible luck.

And I figured, if it could be her, it could be anyone. But most of all, it could be me.

That last bit, I think, is one of—one of—my greatest flaws, the vanity of always thinking that the worst things will happen to you, in spite of the odds. It’s a way of making yourself feel special, but it has no upside. You don’t feel confidence with this type of special-feeling. In fact, you’re more likely to be timid and self-centered, and you just come across as weird to the outside observer. They might think, There’s only a few steps between that guy and Howard Hughes. Somewhere, deep in your mind, they think: Wires are crossed.

Shortly before I went in, another patient arrived, a man around my age or maybe younger who, despite a dozen or so free seats, declined to sit down. My name was called, and I passed a sign on the way to the back that said, “If you have recently traveled to China and have a fever you must let our staff know.”

This doctor’s exam rooms had floor-to-ceiling windows, the kind you’d see in a movie, instead of the usual dull and bulby, off-white plastic exam room interior. A Spanish medical student came in to give a pre-appointment questionnaire and to take my vitals. He asked, in much better English than I could have mustered in Spanish, “So. There is some blood in they crep?”

When he came in, the GI repeated what my GP had said, and since he was also the person who would be performing a colonoscopy, he said I should set an appointment for one with him. I managed to get a date three weeks later.

From other people’s stories, I knew two things about colonoscopies: they are no fun, especially the night before, but the general anesthesia on the day of the procedure, on the other hand, is fun. I was nervous enough on the day before that I actually asked someone at the pharmacy for help finding the items I was looking for: Polyethylene Glycol (or PEG, which we use all the time for lab experiments, and which I was going to have to drink 2 liters of), Gatorade, and laxative pills. I had to take about 800% of their recommended dosages, each.

The bodily effect of those chemicals was dramatic, and I will spare the details. The worst parts of it, I found, were the generally exhausting physical toll it took, and the feeling by the end that I had some kind of dangerous sodium imbalance: I was sweating between my fingers, for example, but the rest of me felt as dry as paper. At 10PM, I was too tired to do anything, but too nervous to sleep for more than a few hours.

One smaller worry that I felt the next morning, as I took a selfie in my hospital gown to send to a friend back home, making a backward peace sign to show off the IV sticking into my hand and also how brave I was being, was that I might just die right there on the table from the general anesthesia. Part of my grad school research was on Propofol, the most-used general anesthesia nowadays (which, incidentally, also killed Michael Jackson). This was the same drug I was to be given.

I’d never been fully put under anesthesia before. It was astronomically improbable that I’d have an adverse reaction to it and die (and by the way, Michael Jackson abused it, using it far outside of medical praxis—if you’re afraid to get a colonoscopy yourself, don’t be, it could save your life), but keep in mind what I said about my vanity.

“Hey, I’m really scared,” I told the anesthesiologist. He said something, muffled by his mask, that sounded like, “It’ll be all right.” Then he busied himself with a syringe, connecting it to my IV. He depressed it about a third of the way. “This should help you,” he said.

The last thing I said was, “Whoa…I feel it.”

After what felt like a hard, late-afternoon nap, I said, “Hello?”

My head was wrapped with something. When I touched my face, I could feel that there were cotton pads underneath the wrapping, holding my eyes shut. I guess that at some point either mid-procedure or after, my eyes had opened, unseeing, and they’d done this to keep them from drying out. “Hang on, sir,” I heard a nurse say, and my head was unwrapped.

“It’s over?” I asked.

“You’re all done,” he said.

“Gimme a minute, please,” I said, my South Jersey accent peeking out. “I feel a little weird.”

Eventually, I sat up. Two of the nurses helped me stand, and I pumped my arms like I was lifting light, invisible dumbbells. As I put my glasses on and looked around, I thought that they all seemed like they were fighting to not smirk. What did I say while I was blacked out? I wondered, with a twinge of panic, before deciding that it would be worthless to speculate. It could have been anything. There are literally millions of possibilities. Again—it would be worthless to speculate, I told myself, firmly.

An Uber driver, I had been told by hospital staff during a consultation, was not a legally strong enough party to take responsibility for me at discharge. Someone I knew would have to escort me to my apartment. Also, they said, they really would do that thing where you’re back in your own clothes, and they push you to the exit in a wheelchair when you’re all finished. After my procedure, my co-worker stood waiting in the discharge zone with his car as an orderly wheeled me out of the hospital exit. I stood up from the wheelchair and got into the passenger seat of his car, for some reason more aware than usual of the heat coming from the vent and the smell of the car’s leather upholstery. “I still feel weird from the anesthesia,” I said to my friend.

“I’ll bet you do,” he replied.

It was about lunch time, and I had taken the rest of the day off from work. When I got home, I ordered a pizza and lay on my bed. I ate the pizza and watched Star Wars. I had not felt any euphoria when I woke up, I thought hollowly. And my first solid meal in almost forty hours tasted unremarkable. I was still groggy, but not in a pleasant way. I felt cheated.

The hospital staff had put a manilla envelope into my hands as I left. It contained sheets of images the doctor had taken during the procedure. Once lucid, I leafed through them and compared the thumbnail-sized images on printer paper with googled images of cancerous tumors viewed through a colonoscope, trying to diagnose myself.

A couple of the images on the papers had shapes that looked weird, with what seemed like variations in the texture or color of my colon wall that to me, at least, appeared one hundred percent fatal. It was another two weeks before I had a follow-up appointment to go over them with the surgeon.

“See this?” The GI said, two weeks later, pointing to one of the images that had seemed completely normal to me, unlike other ones I had thought were much more scary and unusual-looking. “That’s a low-risk polyp. Of course, now it’s a no-risk polyp, ‘cause it’s gone.”

This medical episode ended only three or so weeks before the whole world changed, but I was all the more grateful for that. If I’d waited to be checked out, then I would have been weighing whether it was worth getting tested against the possibility of being infected with COVID.

The doctor recommended that I get a colonoscopy every five years from now on, but added, “If you want, you can go earlier than that.” I told him thanks, but once every five years sounded fine.

*

I wrote about the first seven weeks of the pandemic in my last entry. After that, May and June passed in the same way as March and April had. I went back to work in mid-June for two weeks before the first summer COVID spike closed things back up. I continued to play Quake, and I continued to fret about my family.

I had a job interview for a position in northern Maryland in April. I didn’t get it, but I had a good idea why I’d been turned down: the position wanted people with proven math skills. Which makes sense—for the last few years I’d said repeatedly that I wanted to have a job that involves less lab work and more data analysis. This was one of those jobs.

My graduate program gave me a degree in “Computational and Integrative Biology.” Sometimes I shorten it to “Integrative Biology,” or “Computational Biology,” but I always feel sort of dishonest when I tell people my degree. (Apparently this feeling is common among grad students). My own reason for feeling dishonest was because, in any other college, the work I was doing would probably just fall under normal old “Biology.” While it was true I had done course work that reflected “Computational and Integrative” Biology, they were courses taught in a remedial way.

When I say remedial, I mean that they were courses designed to get biologists up to speed on how to do higher-level data analyses with their experiments. For instance, in my “Biomath” course, we went over ordinary differential equations and graph theory. Those are both intermediate-level math types, ones you’d encounter in the later part of an undergraduate math degree program. Throughout that course, there was a lot of handwaving whenever I asked questions.

“Eh…,” the professor might have responded to something I had asked, “that requires a lot of background explanation we don’t need right now to handle the problem here. Just take it as a given for what we’re working on.”

In grad school, it’s common to be well-versed in only your narrow little research tunnel that leads outward to the edge of “known” biology. But a few times each month, several of us students would head to the bar down at the city’s waterfront after work to talk about our research. It usually began with a complaint—“This is the third time this kit wouldn’t work this week and it takes twelve fucking hours to run it each time,”—but to give us a more context for their problem, whoever was griping would have to go back and start at the beginning, recounting all the steps leading to their experiment’s failure.

This was a useful exercise, since a pair of new eyes on your work meant that at least you could get feedback on how to better relate the subject matter when you talked to a non-science audience, and at most, you might get a real solution for the problem you were bumping up against.

But I would sometimes get privately upset, as I sipped my beer and glanced out the window at the river, when a math-centered Computational and Integrative Biology student would start talking about their research. As someone who feels an unpleasant, TV static-like anxiety in my chest the moment I see letters in italics, or one of those big, orphan sorority sigmas following an equal sign during a math seminar, this upset feeling was directed at myself. Because, as a result of my insecurity, I would start listening to the beginning of the math student’s explanation of their research, trip over the first unfamiliar term I heard, lose the thread of what they were talking about, give up, and zone out. The math students, overall, just seemed light years ahead of me.

A critical vocabulary word that I began to mentally tie to the situation—slumming, these math types were slumming when talking to us biologists—was the grain of sand to my insecurity’s oyster. By the time I got my diploma a few years later, it had developed into a little pearl; now I had the feeling that I was, relative to those who’d come from a math background, a fake computational biologist.

Unhelpfully, the people in charge of hiring for the jobs I want nowadays seemed to agree. All the job listings I was interested in applying for made me feel the same panic that advanced math symbols on powerpoint slides did. The subjects they wanted their applicants to have experience in—machine learning, deep learning, regression analyses—were all frightening, impregnable terms, reminding me either of some kind of giant machine made up of endless tubes and valves, all spitting dangerously hot steam, or of a highly secure, underground bomb shelter that requires fingerprints or eyeball scans to get into. I knew from my previous learning experiences that if I didn’t understand the fundamentals and learned only the higher-level, applied stuff, it was just going to make me feel unworthy, and I’d forget it at once.

But summer had come—it was midsummer now, in fact. The pandemic wasn’t going anywhere, so what was I going to do if I didn’t start learning something? I ended up registering for three classes at a community college back home, which offered their fall semester online. For two thousand dollars, including textbooks, I got a spot in Introductory Statistics, Linear Algebra, and Calculus III.

Calculus III was a risk. I’d taken Calc I and II in undergrad, now about seventeen years ago, and I had earned Bs back then. I didn’t remember much of the material from either class. I’d tried watching Khan Academy videos at various points in the meantime, but could never stick with it. I’d watch several videos in a row, feel like I understood things, try a practice problem, get it wrong, and forget about it after a day or two. But now, I had put actual money into it and, in a few months, a grade would be spit back out, so this time I had real skin in the game.

But I had misgivings that I was too old to learn new stuff, or that I would be one of those students I remember when I was in undergrad, the older students who would grind class to a halt with their endless questions. Or maybe I would get worse grades than I had in undergrad, despite taking things more seriously now.

Two of the classes were taught asynchronously, meaning each lecture was a video that you could pause or replay at your leisure, and all tests were take-home, but the other class, Statistics, was done over Zoom. You might think a Zoom class could be a better way to learn—clarifying questions can be asked immediately, for instance—but for me, at least, it was not. Instead of focusing on the material being taught, the whole time I’d be thinking, “They can see me. Everyone here can see me. I can see me, and I have a dumbass expression on my face. Can they tell that I have a bedsheet instead of a curtain over my window blinds?”

My mind wandered during class just as much as it had while sitting in a lecture hall when I was eighteen, but now, these classes were held later at night, after I’d been working all day and had eaten dinner. As a result of this, and the fact that I find Statistics to be boring when it’s taught as a series of don’t-worry-about-how-we-derived-it formulas to plug numbers into, I did the worst in Statistics.

But Calc and Linear Algebra were more interesting. When I watched the class videos, I got familiar with the disembodied voices of the teachers, who each seemed to be trying to do an impression of Khan Academy videos. My Calc teacher, with his strong Vietnamese accent, would punctuate every few lines of derivation or proof with, “So what does that mean then?” Every time—new topic, new chapter, new problem, exactly the same tone of voice: “So what does that mean then?”

Eventually, in my head, his cadence merged with the tones of Woody Woodpecker’s laugh, and I began saying it to myself as I did chores around my apartment. “So what does that mean, then?” I’d half-sing at my garbage can liner as I cinched it shut. “So what does that mean, then?” I’d say to a wrinkled button-down shirt, enjoying the pepper shaker-y smell of my iron when it’s turned up to its hottest setting. “So what does that mean, then?” I’d say to the window blinds, when considering whether I should replace the bedsheet I’d hung there with an actual curtain, before answering myself that No, this apartment is too temporary for something as tony as curtains.

Sometimes I’d say it three times in a row, like Woody Woodpecker himself:

“So what does that mean, then?”

“So what does that mean, then?”

“So what does that mean, then?”

I kept a Google Sheet of how much time I spent doing work for each class, and found that I averaged about 20 hours a week total. That broke down to approximately an hour and a half each weekday, and on Saturday and Sunday I would go for about six or seven hours each. I’d get up at 7:30 those weekend mornings and brew a pot of coffee, then sit taking notes and working through every part of each assigned homework, not moving on from a problem until I understood everything about it.

I think that those Saturday and Sunday mornings may have been the happiest I felt during the year 2020. In the middle of a difficult Calc problem, not having the answer yet but certain I was on the right track, while also buzzing on caffeine, as a beam of early horizontal sunlight hit my kitchen backsplash and filled the apartment with more brightness than all my lightbulbs put together, I for once did not feel worried. I was unworried about my parents, my sisters, my brother, my sister-in-law, my niece and nephew, and all the pets. Unworried about COVID, or cancer, or the work stresses of the week. Unworried about getting older, about being alone still, or about enjoying being alone too much; unworried about letting all of this time go by and still feeling like real life hasn’t started; unworried about my dad having another stroke, or about my mom just suddenly up and dying out of nowhere, or cancer, or whether my hairline is changing, or the fact that my heart has been skipping a beat sometimes lately, or whether my friends who I speak to on the phone were getting sick of me, or whether I am too graphic when I describe symptoms I am afraid mean I might have cancer, or whether my apartment neighbors will keep me up with their noise again tonight, or whether the tooth sensitivity I feel drinking cold water lately means I need to risk a dentist visit during a pandemic, or whether I will be able to have healthier boundaries with my parents whenever I return to the northeast, or whether I’ll ever feel truly satisfied and content, or whether I’ll ever feel actual joy some day, or whether my hang-ups, and anxieties, and fears, and regrets about my personal and professional choices will end up all ganging up on me at once, or, of course, whether at any given moment, I might have cancer.

My attitude going into the classes was that I would disregard whatever grades I got and simply aim for as much comprehension as possible. But about halfway through the semester, I lost my nerve and began to think of my grades as a direct indicator of my level of understanding. So I started fretting about my grades, and on days of Calc III exams during the second half of the semester, I took vacation time so I could spend the whole day working on them.

It got a little crazy toward the end, but finally, it was over, and I managed to get all As. That made me happy, even if I knew that that kind of satisfaction is a bit immature. But I felt like I was making up for some of the sins I had committed as a college student, my laziness and my previous lack of appreciation for education finally, in a small way, absolved.

*

I spent Christmas here in Texas. When I think back on Christmases from previous years I find that I can remember the past two years very well because I flew home and packed a lot of family and friend time into a few short days. Before 2018, though, I can’t remember any specific Christmas well enough to recount anything that happened on the day.

But when I was a little kid, I remembered each Christmas perfectly, mainly due to the gifts I got and the room where we put the Christmas tree—where “Christmas happened”: in 1990, it was in the back room and we got a magic set, and also my brother pretended to faint when he saw he’d gotten Reebok Pumps. In 1991, it was in the family room, and my brother and I got the Nintendo game “Base Wars.” In 1992, it was in the living room and we got a Sega Genesis along with the game “Sonic 2.” In 1993, it was in the family room again, and I got a Hot Wheels Key Force car, and my brother got the Genesis game “Hard Ball 3 With Al Michaels.”

In 1994, my grandfather died a few weeks before Christmas, and we got a Sega CD. That was the year I became aware that the Christmas spirit was vulnerable to external forces, one’s first experience with death being the most offensive of those forces, and after a few months I also became aware that a hot new gaming console like the Sega CD could “fail,” slipping into obscurity with a small and unremarkable library of games. As a result, the indestructible-seeming sheen of Christmas fell away, leaving behind a better idea of what Christmas really is: a bare, thin-glassed lightbulb plugged into the middle of the year’s darkest period. After 1994, I can’t really remember what happened each Christmas.

This past Christmas will always be memorable, though, because I spent Christmas Eve and Christmas Day pretty much doing one of three things: playing Quake (yes, that hobby still refuses to die), watching something Star Wars-related, or video chatting with my family. At any time when I wasn’t speaking to family, I had Christmas music playing in the background, including while Star Wars was on. I turned the heat up in my apartment to 75 degrees and enjoyed how money-wastingly hot it was getting, until my nose started to bleed from the dry air.

I want to take this opportunity to say that I much prefer Christmas Eve to Christmas Day. Christmas Eve is generally all anticipation and guest arrivals, buoying the mood long into the falling night. From the viewpoint of Christmas Eve, any miracle might happen the following morning. But then after a late, over-buttered breakfast on Christmas Day, there’s nothing much else to do except think about cleaning up and regret how much you’ve eaten. The “anything could happen” feeling is now all gone, collapsed from a dazzling infinity’s worth of possibilities down to one homely outcome.

I hadn’t put up any decorations for my apartment, unless the Christmas music can be considered a decoration. This ended up being a good thing, though, since I didn’t have to take anything down once the holiday was over.

*

I started taking walks pretty early in the pandemic, my first walk happening after about one week of lockdown. That day there was a surprisingly large amount of people also walking. We all stayed far away from one another, since none of us were wearing masks—the width of even a modest suburban Texas street is still impressively wide, so there was no safety issue. I always took the initiative to be the one who crossed the street if I saw someone, exaggeratedly swinging my arms as I crossed so the person walking toward me could see my intentions even from far away. I did this because I figured it would be harder for the dog-walkers to wrangle their dog across the street and get out of my way, and the people without dogs were either old or were walking in a group.

In the beginning I was walking maybe twice a week, which then became three times, which became five. It held at five times a week during the fall semester because I’d have to be on Zoom from 6:30-8:30 PM Tuesdays and Thursdays, which took up the whole span of time in which I would usually walk. Nowadays, no longer taking classes, I walk every night.

For a while, I tried to get home before sunset, because I’m afraid of being hit by a car in the dark. After the clocks shifted back, I had to choose between walking earlier, during rush hour when everyone was arriving back at their houses from work, or waiting to walk until after the sun has set. I ended up buying one of those reflective construction worker’s vests for $8 on Amazon and waiting for nighttime. I feel like a dork when I wear the vest, but most of the people walking at night who I see are also wearing reflective clothes. Theirs are more chic than my vest, though, looking like they were ordered through an expensive fitness-wear catalogue. I’d buy the same type, but to me, walking is a meditative, solitary act, and I don’t want to feel that I’m catering to externalities like looking stylish while I’m trying to feel solitary. It also acts as a tacit acknowledgement that I’m not a criminal: “I’m making myself as visible as possible! I’m not casing your houses to break into them later on!”

Even though the focus of COVID is on the transmission of disease through shared, respired air, I still pay a lot of attention to contaminated surfaces. When I go out anywhere, I have a routine: first, I put on my going-out clothes (newly clean), then my shoes, which are possibly dirty, since I have to re-tie them sometimes with unwashed hands, so before I touch anything else after tying my shoes, I wash my hands. Then, I put on a mask, turn off all the lights except the one at the front door, pick up my keys with my right hand, slip my phone into my left pocket, and walk to the door. I put my keys in my right pocket (my wallet is already there), open the door with my right hand, turn out the light, step out the door, and take the keys out of my pocket to lock the door with, again, only my right hand.

I use my right hand pretty much everywhere outside—to push or pull open doors, to open my car to retrieve something from it, to open my mailbox and carry my mail in—because I know that if I use my left hand, my phone-operating hand, I’m going to have to put the phone into a little UV light phone-sterilizing box that I bought when I get home. And for some reason, I feel like it’s a small moral failure to have to use that UV box, so I try to keep my left hand from touching anything except for the phone. But I know that if I drive anywhere, all bets are off—both my hands touch the steering wheel, my left hand touches the car door handle while getting out, and I push open doors with both hands whenever I get somewhere. I’m sure that my left hand ends up touching something that may have SARS-CoV-2 on it as I carry out an errand, and therefore into the UV box my phone must go when I get home. But, when I go out to walk, there’s a good chance that I won’t need to touch anything with my left hand between leaving the apartment and coming back. If that’s the case, I can use my phone freely while walking if I want to, but when I get home, I can still just take it from my pocket and place it on my desk, no ultraviolet sterilizing waves needed. But of course then I still have to wash my right hand.

The walk is the same route every night now. It’s a vaguely circular, level 2.7 miles, starting northbound, bearing west, south, then east. It takes about forty minutes for me to walk the whole thing, plus or minus four minutes, depending on how warmed up I get while walking. My heart rate generally goes up to about 115 beats per minute for most of the walk, according to my watch, then spikes to 135 as I climb the stairs to my fourth floor apartment at the end.

Insulated by the sound of music or an audiobook on my headphones, and with my hands stuck in my pockets, actually holding onto the cloth pocket linings themselves, I feel less like a person on a walk and more like someone steering a large, inertia-filled thing—a sailboat that I have to tack against an unfavorable wind, or a bobsled whose blades I have to turn out of deep ruts on the ice. But despite feeling bodily awkward, I find suburbia to be a soothing place to move through. I really don’t understand how some people think of the suburbs as some kind of dystopia, to be honest. My neighborhood has wide streets, as I mentioned, and the houses are almost all ranch-style. The trees, like the houses, are shorter than they are in the northeast. Some of the trees look more like very tall shrubbery. As for the ground, the blades of grass are wider, and the soil is just a bit sandier. Sometimes, I see two-inch-long cockroaches, what people back home would call “water bugs,” creeping across the sidewalks.

I can’t remember the names of the streets on the walk, except for Forrest Street, which I noticed once when I saw the street sign while I was running and it made me think of “Run, Forrest, run!” and Kenilworth Street, which has the same name as a street back at home. Other than those, I only know points along the route by the informal names I’ve assigned to them. There’s a road where it changes direction from heading north to heading east, and it looks over a little park. The lack of houses there gives an unobstructed view of the western horizon. For that reason, I call that part of the route “Sunset Bend.” At another point on the route there is a house where, in the beginning of lockdown last spring, a family was always outside, the parents sitting motionless in Adirondack chairs while their kids all went nuts on the front lawn, playing with the sprinkler, or doing hopscotch, or sitting at one of those tiny plastic picnic tables, playing some board game. That part of the walk I called “Kidville.”

There were other houses that were always so inactive, so abandoned-seeming—the blinds were always closed and there wasn’t a car in the driveway—that I started to wonder if anyone lived there at all, and whether maybe the neighborhood association was mowing its lawn to stave off the shabbiness. But after the switch from walking in daylight to nighttime, I saw that some of those houses, while still shut up and silent, had lights on inside in rooms not facing the street. Looking at those houses is like staring into the vents of a space heater in a dark room.

Eventually I started thinking about how the walk is exactly 2.7 miles. Then, idly, I realized that if you multiply 2.7 by 30, you get 81. That number of years, eighty-one, seems like a decent amount of years to hope to live—it’s not greedy, you’re not asking for a hundred years, for example—but also, maybe when I get closer to 81, there will be better medical treatments and 81 will seem younger. Assuming that doesn’t happen, though, I think of 81 years as more or less “a complete life.” It is very sad, but not exactly a tragedy, to die at 81.

With this in mind, I started translating the distance along my walk to human ages. For instance, 1.0 miles into the walk, times 30, would equal 30 years. And 1.2 miles times 30 would equal 36 years, which is how old I am now. Since by the time I’d discovered this “conversion formula,” the walk was already so familiar to me that I had a very good perspective on how far into the walk any given point felt—the precise moment when I sense that I’m transitioning from the middle to the end phase of the walk, for example. So when I came up with the multiply-by-30 conversion formula, I was interested to see exactly what part of the walk 1.2 miles, or 36 years old, corresponded to.

The answer is that it was later in the walk than I’d hoped. The moment I reach 1.2 miles is long past the most scenic parts of the route; it’s just after a left turn that puts me on a long straightaway of modest houses leading to an arterial road, known to me as the hook-around part of the circuit where in past walks, I had thought, “Now I’m on my way back home.”

Over the next few evenings, I noted other points, ones that had come before the 1.2 mile marker, and compared them to parts of my already-lived life: I graduated high school at 0.6 miles into the walk, which was the beginning of Sunset Bend. I got my master’s degree in a spot where, at nighttime, a streetlight shines through the leaves on a tree, giving the street a dance hall, disco-ball kind of lighting (hence, “Disco Point”). That friendly, lighted patch of street, with a jaunty-looking house standing next to it, makes it my favorite part of the walk. As for points I have not yet reached: still ahead of my current age distance, at around 1.5 miles, is Kidville, but I haven’t seen anyone in the front yard there in months now.

Toward the end, almost back home, there’s a large school property. I’ve never seen anyone on the grounds, except for the occasional person who sneaks onto the running track to jog it. Along one of the fences that borders the school, in springtime last year, someone started zip-tying laminated sheets of paper with jokes written on them to the chain links. The jokes are all clean, and pretty lame—these days it seems like almost all kid-friendly jokes are just puns, like “How did the farmer find his wife? He tractor down!”

One time, I saw a kid about ten years old on his bike, riding along the sidewalk and stopping to read each joke. The fence ends at a small park for toddlers. There’s a big plastic sign at the entrance of the park, faded but still legible, that has a boy’s name displayed on it. Below his name is written a tragically short span of years, and below that, a message: “This park is dedicated to the memory of (the boy’s name), and to all of the little tykes of (the neighborhood).” Whoever it was putting up jokes on the schoolyard fence stopped replacing them with new ones some time during the fall, and I walk too late to ever see anyone playing at the playground. Well, that’s not quite true: very rarely, around 9 PM on warm nights, I might see what appears to be a young mother scrutinizing her phone as her kid swings in the dark.

*

I haven’t been to the gym to lift any weights since lockdown started. I’ve been able to do cardio in my apartment, but the result of all the cardio and all the walking is that I’ve lost a decent amount of lifting strength, as well as about ten pounds. This is consistent with how life in general has evolved: I have also reduced the list of spaces I travel to, leaving my apartment only to go to work, to pick up groceries, and to walk through my neighborhood. My body, and the edges of my life, have gone through a great miniaturization, but my perspective has adapted with it—each feature within this smaller space seems more detailed, and the day’s moments are of a finer grain. Inside my apartment, I have realized how much the lighting affects the atmosphere, and as a result the mood, so I can change which lights are on when to reflect the mood of each time of day. When I walk at night, sometimes I have the same feeling I did the week before I moved here from New Jersey, a sort of farewell feeling. That feeling started in the fall as a dessert-like flipside to my happy mornings spent doing math homework. Those evenings, I also felt like I was saying goodbye, to a more insecure, more ignorant version of myself, I guess. Nowadays, I get the feeling that I’m saying goodbye to the person who had, until now, always feared that he was missing out on things.

There will be a time, closer to now than now is to the beginning of the pandemic, when I will leave Texas. I will be happy and relieved to return home, whenever that is. But at the same time, there’s a new feeling that is starting to take root, and it’s a weird one: for all the hardship that the pandemic has presented to me, the anxiety for my family and the limitations it’s put on my mobility, social life, and career, for more than ten months now, its most memorable effect, unless I’m affected by the illness itself, will be that it made me love my neighborhood. I have walked more than 500 miles of it over the months, and scores of miles remain to be walked before I move away. I’ve walked during steaming afternoons, during cloudy sunsets, in pre-dawn twilight on cool mornings, and during soft, breezy evenings. It’s always picturesque, pleasant, very green. The houses look inviting, and the dog-walkers wave to me. I listen to music that suits my mood and do the geographical equivalent of palm reading. That’s all, really.

Can a person love a place? Feel gratitude toward landscaping, houses, parked cars, and people viewed only from a distance? Can someone feel affinity to a fox seen in a churchyard and streetlights shining through leaves in the night? Affection for lawn mower exhaust, for the noise of an approaching SUV slowly carving out a bend? Love for landmarks that correspond to moments in one’s past, or to moments that one might encounter in the future?

There will be a time, I hope, when my years in Texas are far in the past. But some day, I will hear a song, or see a house with a certain architecture, or smell a variety of grass, and Texas will return to me. At the same time, I also hope that it isn’t too overwhelming. I’ve found that I can never tell how potent a memory of a particular time or place will be until there’s a lot of distance between me and it. Sometimes, a memory will come gently, settling on me like a haze, ready to be indulged, even laughed at. In such cases I turn up the music that brought the memory, or take a luxuriating whiff of the scent, and I think back on the time, feeling only a little bit sad.

But other memories swoop down like some kind of predatory bird, and in those cases, the nostalgia feels more like the punch of the bird’s talons in the back of my neck. The sense of missing is so strong that it feels less like nostalgia and more like a distilled, portable homesickness. Ridiculously, I’ll even want to return to the memory’s time and place, despite knowing that in reality it had been fraught with pain or unease. Which makes the sneaking feeling growing during this time, at this place, all the more uncanny. I mean, all that this span of time has been, is me, and some terrain, and the wind, and the light of the sun or the moon. No one else. My nostalgia for anything before this was always about times and places with other people. So who will I be missing?

Someone once said, Wherever you go, there you are. But now, I wonder: is that really true?

[snowfall-fanfictions]

Beware the Frozen Heart Ch. 3- The Attempt

Ao3 Link

FFN Link

Things start to get interesting now. Enjoy!

Blood Tw and death tw

The training grounds of the Arendellian Royal Guard were lively with the sound of metal clanging and war cries of young men and women dressed in the forest green uniform of Arendelle. Few of the trainees noticed that the queen and crown princess had made their way into the courtyard, hands clasped together. Those that did almost immediately stopped and saluted the monarchs as they passed by. Many of them started sharing whispers and others were unfortunate to be on the receiving end of their partner’s weapons who didn’t see the two pass through.

Elsa was always nervous when she came through the training grounds. She remembered years ago when she accompanied her father to the grounds and got so scared that she ended up freezing the floor. At least two people slipped and were hospitalized that day, and Elsa wasn’t allowed in the grounds since. The memories of that day caused Elsa to quicken her pace as she went to Captain Torvond’s quarters.

Anna, on the other hand, was in awe of what she saw. The energy, the excitement, the swords! As a child, Anna looked up to warriors, like Joan of Arc and Boudica. Their legends gave her the strength to endure the years of isolation she faced. Despite this, she was never allowed to visit the grounds, because her carelessness caused concern for the captain of the guard at the time. She wished she could study the tactics of the soldiers a little longer, but was abruptly jerked by Elsa as she started to lightly jog past all the lingering eyes and into the captain’s quarters across the field.

XXXXXX

Eryn guided Magni through the town center, scanning the crowds for any familiar face. He pulled the hood of his cloak over his head as he passed a group of guards, in case they recognized him. As he looked over the throngs of people going about their day, his contempt for these high-class snobs grew. These fucks were living in the lap of luxury, compared to what he has been through. He lost everything in the name of Arendelle, and for what? A life filled with misery and death. Eryn’s stomach knotted itself at the hatred and contempt he felt for this damnable kingdom. The sooner the queen dies, the soon I get out of this hellhole, he thought. He scanned the crowds again. Nothing unusual, save for a man speaking in a goofy voice to his reindeer. Eryn watched in horror as the same man drew a carrot out of his pants, let the reindeer take a bite, and then proceeded to eat the rest. He could still make out reindeer spit on the half eaten carrot. Eryn almost vomited on the spot.

“We are never doing that!,” Eryn said to Magni. The horse blew hot air out of his nostrils. Scanning the crowds again as he hitched Magni to a post, blocking the horrific sight he beheld from his mind, he noticed a man sitting on a bench up against a series of buildings, reading a newspaper. The man looked to be about the same age as Eryn, only much bulkier and with red hair. The assassin sat beside the man, pretending not to care, and studied the newspaper.

“You realize that paper is over two weeks old, do you?” Eryn inquired. The man looked to his left and studied Eryn. He minutely moved closer to Eryn and began speaking in hushed tones.

“You’re here much earlier than expected.”

“Bah,” Eryn scoffed, “You know how I am, always eager to get a job done.”

The man scoffed in return at Eryn’s snarky reply.

“So…” Eryn leaned in towards the man. “Is everything in place?”

XXXXXX

Captain Torvond read over the letter carefully as Elsa and Anna stood before him. His quarters weren’t exactly regal material, but it sufficed for important meetings like this one. There was only room for his bed, his desk, and a trunk where his uniforms and personal items were stored. The three of them took up a great deal of available space, especially Torvond. He was a large man, with broad shoulders and a bulky torso. He easily towered over the queen and princess. As he read the letter, he twirled his auburn mustache in his free hand

“Do you understand what needs to be done, Lineaus?” Elsa asked.

The captain rolled the letter back up and tied it with a twine string. “Yes, your majesty. I’ll keep you updated with whatever I find.” He gave Elsa a warm smile. “You have my word.”

Elsa returned the smile to him. “Thank you, Lineaus.” With that, Elsa and Anna departed the captain’s quarters.

The walk back to the castle was pleasant. Elsa loved to walk through the town, seeing all of the smiling faces as she passed by. The two sisters were quiet until Anna began nudging Elsa’s side.

“So… Lineaus is kinda cute, isn’t he?” Anna teased.

“Anna!” the queen scolded, “You’re getting married! How could you say that?”

“I may be getting married, but you’re still available.”

Elsa’s face burned a bright red. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, C’mon, Elsa! You know the council has been getting on your case about finding an heir to-”

“To continue the succession, I know, I know! It’s just that- well… I don’t think I’m ready for that kind of commitment.”

“Well, whenever you’re ready, you won’t have to look too far. Every man in Europe seems to be drawn to you.”

“Don’t remind me.”

The two sisters started laughing as they made their way back to the castle. As they crossed the town center, few people gave them much attention. They grew so accustomed to seeing the royals out and about that they didn’t stick out as much. Elsa sort of liked not being the center of attention. She appreciated the ability to blend into the crowds. She liked studying the crowds to see the different kinds of people in Arendelle. It was methodical and helped ease her mind of all the stress of ruling.

The serenity of her walk back to the castle was interrupted by a man shouting, “DIE WITCH!” and gunshots.

XXXXXX

“What the hell do you mean you aren’t done preparing?” Eryn sneered in hushed tones. “You had a whole week to sort this out!”

“Eryn,” the man explained quietly, “It’s not like we’re setting up to kill the local beggar or something. This is a monarch we’re talking about.”

“How much longer do you need?!”

“Just one more day, then everything will be in place, guaranteed.”

Eryn angrily went back to studying the crowds, silently cursing the incompetence of his contact. All of his planning, all of his preparation, all gone to waste! He muttered a few curse words as he sat hunched over, burying his face in his hands. It was then he saw someone that caught his attention. It was a young woman, somewhere around his own age. She wore a dazzling blue dress and sported a platinum blonde braid that was draped over her shoulder. Her skin was as serene and beautiful as porcelin. She looked like an angel in human form. Eryn was curious as to who this mystery woman was and why no one seemed to be paying attention to her as she walked by. Any man in Karnisvarne would have at least complimented her in some shape or form. He sat there for a minute, puzzled at the whole situation.

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he saw rapid movement from a crowd around the town center. He jerked his head to see what the commotion was about. From there, he could point out a slightly older man, whose face was wrinkled and worn from the passing of time. What hadn’t been worn was the revolver he had gripped in his hand and the raging fury burning in his eyes. Eryn soon noticed that the old man’s gaze was on the woman he was puzzled by earlier.

“Dear God,” Eryn muttered as he bolted from the bench.

“Eryn wait-!”  Eryn’s contact exclaimed, but it was too late. Eryn had disappeared into a throng of people, out of earshot.

Eryn shoved his way through the sea of people, desperately trying to get to the old man. He finally saw the old man, who had raised the gun and was about to fire. Without hesitation, Eryn tackled the old man to the ground as he pulled the trigger. The crowd screamed and fled in a panicked state. Enraged, Eryn tried to wrestle the gun from the old man’s hand. He picked up the old fool and slammed him onto the cobblestone, causing the cracks to run red. The old man then sucker punched Eryn in the jaw, which forced him off of the would be assassin. He spat out blood as he unsheathed his dagger and pointed it at the man. The old man in turn aimed his gun at Eryn, anger flooding his eyes. Eryn dashed at the assassin with blinding fury. In an instant, his blade slashed at the man’s gut. As he doubled over, Eryn buried his dagger into the assassin’s back. The attempted killer slumped over, motionless. Eryn breathed a sigh of relief as he fell to the cobblestone. He scanned the area to find the mystery woman, hoping she wasn’t hurt, but she was nowhere to be found. Eryn wondered what the woman had done to draw the ire of this would be assassin. Old fool was much too sloppy Eryn thought, Broke the first rule of killing: don’t announce you’re going to kill someone. Before he knew it, a group of soldiers swarmed him, pointing their weapons directly at him.

“Get up, ya swine!” One of the guards shouted.

“Come the fuck on…” Eryn muttered to himself as he was hoisted onto his feet and dragged to the castle.

[howtohero]

#237 Escapology 101

Superheroes often find themselves in situations they’d much rather not be in: Hanging upside down over a vat of acid and radioactive sharks; being hounded by adoring fans (this one isn’t relevant to you, but it is for other, better heroes); listening to a lecture on the Paleozoic era from Professor Paleontologist. Situations that you’re going to want to make hasty yet graceful exits from. Which means you need a lesson in escapology.

As we all know, the best defense is a strong offense, so the best way to escape any situation is not to get caught in it in the first place. Idiot. Do you know how much of my time I spend not dangling over a vat of acid sharks or dealing with adoring- wait. Whatever, it’s almost all of my time. Not getting stuck in dicey situations is so easy I basically do it in my sleep. In fact, I do it in my sleep! I wake up almost every morning not in a precarious or dangerous or undesirable situation. Only once did I wake up tied up in the back of what has come to be known as The Sentient Murder Van, but that was a fluke and I try not to make a regular habit of it!

If, like a loser, somehow, like a loser, you’ve, like a loser, gotten yourself into a sticky situation the first thing you need to do is take stock of your surroundings. An expert escapologist knows that the world is just a jumble of oddly shaped keys. Glass table shaped like a warthog? That’s a key. An entire ham? That’s a key. Framed oil painting of an elderly turtle? That’s two keys. Frame and painting baby! Frame. And. Painting. (Escapologist tip: A skilled artist can take a canvas and, using the paints they no doubt keep in their utility belt, can create an image so realistic they can use it to get out of anywhere. Paint yourself still in bonds so the bad guys don’t look for you while you escape their lair. Paint yourself getting sick so the guards rush in to make sure you don’t die and then, when they realize they are looking at a painting, kick them in the head and steal their keys. The possibilities are endless!) So take a gander at the keys around you. If you’re a real pro you’ll already have plenty of escapology accoutrements in your utility belt or on your person: Lock picks, laser pointers (that shoot real lasers, don’t use these during your PowerPoint presentations!), a variety of animal whistles that can summon helpful beasts to pick locks or shoot lasers for you. If you’re versatile and forward thinking enough, you’ll find that you can pick your way out of any jam. (There’s a sweet spot between forward thinking enough to not get captured in the first place and being so bad at forward thinking that you left your lock pick set on your kitchen counter and that’s where you’re going to want to be operating.) 

Your costume will often times be the greatest key in your arsenal. There are lots of ways to build a keen ability to escape anything right into your everyday dress. For starters, as our follower @agasar1412 pointed out on one of our posts last year, gauntlet spikes are a godsend. Not only can they be used to cut bindings that have been placed around your wrist, but in a pinch they can be used to pick some locks as well. Once your wrists are free you’ll find that freeing the rest of you is a piece of cake (escapologist tip: three out of every five cakes contains within it a nail file that you can use to break out of most prisons on the continental United States). Another way to ensure that your wrists are always one fancy trick away from being free is to wear very bulky gauntlets. Supervillains, because they are dumb, will often just slap any wrist restraints on to a hero over their gauntlets, meaning all you need to do to break free is to just, y’know, remove your big gloves. That’s it! Plus there’s always the time-tested trick of wearing butter-bracelets. These are, of course, bracelets with buttered up insides that make your wrists very slippery, allowing you to slip off nearly any kind of cuff bad guys can throw at you. Then, with your hands free, you can undo or dismantle any other restraints on you. 

If you find yourself tied up and hanging from your feet over something nasty like many jagged rocks or a mosasaurus or a big target that says “losers land here” written on it and you would like to exit that situation before you are dropped no problem! All you need to do is cut any ropes around your arms using your gauntlet blades or wrist mounted laser pointer and then, using those sick stomach muscles you’ve built up from doing millions of crunches and sit-ups every day, swing yourself, like a pendulum away from the danger zone. Then, once you’re swinging precariously through the air, use your laser pointer or blades to cut the ropes around your feet and whatever is keeping you suspended. Odds are pretty good that you’ll land somewhere safe, just tuck and roll to make sure you don’t hurt yourself on the fall. (Escapologist tip: Always keep the remnants of whatever binding or traps you find yourself destroying during your daring escapes, these things can be used as keys for future escapes!)  

Even your very own human flesh body can be used as a key! (Escapologist tip: tattoo a map of any building you need to escape directly onto your body! This way, if you get lost while you escape, all you need to do is get undressed and find a mirror!) Being able to pop your shoulders out of their sockets or otherwise lightly maim or disfigure yourself are invaluable skills to have if you want to be a master escape artist. Most villains assume that heroes are not going to horribly injure themselves just to get out of listening to a monologue. Those villains are obviously very stupid. Of course you’d rather break your thumbs to avoid having to listen to another story about why this villain just has to merge all of the world’s mountain lions together into one giant mountain lion because as a child they were bullied by a girl who had a mountain lion sticker on her shirt. You’ve heard that story like a dozen times already from eight different supervillains. Yeah, this little girl got around folks. Being bullied by this small child is the 59th most common reason for becoming a supervillain. (Number 15 is being thrown a surprise party they didn’t want but number 68 will really blow you away!) So start practicing dislocating any joint you can. Even if it won’t get you out of your shackles or cell, this trick can get you out of parties or social gatherings that you do not want to be at! (Escapologist tip: Even your teeth can be used as keys under the proper circumstances! Teeth are the hardest part of the human body, so next time you find yourself trapped in an abandoned nuclear power plant filled with evil henchmen and without any of your weapons, rip your teeth straight out of your gums, tie them around your knuckles with your shoe laces and viola! Homemade brass knuckles! Sort of! {don’t worry about not having teeth, they’ll grow back as long as you’re a baby.})

Superpowers are, of course, the best keys you can ask for. Depending on your powerset, and your skill level, you can use them to escape from any number of restraints, manacles and door- and windowless rooms. So if you ever find yourself trapped with other superhumans, you all need to be upfront about all of your abilities. Even your most embarrassing superpower can be crucial to escaping captivity. Use your glitter projection to blind guards, your ability to grow exactly one inch taller or shorter to escape from straight jackets or other tight restraints, your ability to talk to worms to set off motion sensors to distract your guards. (Escapologist tip: worms are always a useful backup plan for any escape. You see, they eat dirt, which means they’re always in the middle of some sort of daring Shawshank-esque prison-break. Keep a few in your pocket and drop them on the floor when you find yourself thrown in a cell. If you can’t find a way out, you can take solace in the fact that eventually your wormy pals will dig you a way out.) The possibilities are endless when you learn to think like an escapologist. 

Life is just full of situations we’d rather not be in and that goes even more so for superheroes who have plenty of people who would love nothing more than to capture them. Just remember that the world is your toolkit and your lock pick and you’ll be fine! In fact, as a good prep exercise, take a look at everything around you. How can you use the items you use in your every day life to escape fiendish traps? 

[zuhos-nose]

Past - Yoongi

(gif isn’t mine, credit to owner) (again, I’m not glorifying suicide. I pulled this out of my ass and went with it. I hope this is enjoyable)

It’s raining, just like that night 6 years ago. I’m sitting in the same spot you were lying in when you died. I spend a good portion of my days in that room, going over everything that happened to you in my head to the point of exhaustion. You are me and I am you, the pain one of us felt the other felt too. The banging of fists against a wooden door. Me, shouting for you to open it. The continuous sound of the downpour outside the walls. You, locked away. I begged you not to do it. But I guess it’s not really living being surrounded by the dead. I don’t believe in ghosts. I believe in you. I guess that’s pretty damn close. I cared for you, day in and day out, but you roamed the halls and rooms like the demon following me around. You were that monster, tormenting me, provoking me, hindering me from making a move. That was until you held the weapon to your head. I kicked the door in, moments before the sound of a gun was heard. Yoongi.

~

I find myself under the only lamp in a dark room, tied to a bed with a gag in my mouth. I jerk my arms, panicking while my grunts and muffled cries for help echo throughout the room. I can’t recall my last solid memory, everything being as foggy as my sight under the harsh light. I notice a rusty table towards my feet but the glare from the beacon above me causes my already blurry sight to worsen. There is an item on top, it being the obvious, bulky shape of a handgun. My eyes, now adjusting to the damned lamp, begin to notice my surroundings. Nothing but brick walls that look to be blackened and charred and left alone for years. A faint tapping pulls me back from my haze, no longer thinking about how the hell I got here but what was going to happen to me next. I glance towards the direction of the sound.

Could my mind be playing dirty tricks on me? A shape takes form against the dark walls and approaches my body. I don’t know who would have the motive to take me but-

“It’s been a while.”

It can’t be. That voice. He’s been dead for 6 years. It’s not possible.

“You didn’t think you could get rid of me that easily, did you?” I mumble incoherent curses, struggling even harder to free myself from the ties.

A chuckle leaves the darkness. Finally, the voice steps into the light and rips the gag from my mouth. Yoongi. “You can’t be that dumb. You know exactly who I am, don’t deny your wrong doings. Your past is catching up to you and you’re ignorant if you think it wouldn’t. That’s not how life works. I would know, you took that away from me.” He’s taunting me.

“Don’t act like somebody you’re not, you’re nothing but a liar,” he says while running his fingers through my hair.

He grabs my hand but I can’t move. I’m too mortified by the sight above me. A large hole accentuates his lost eye and hollowed cheeks, while dark, red blood drips onto my face. It’s impossible, I watched his burial, I was at his funeral. I caused his death. “It’s time you finish what you started. You take responsibility for your actions,” he says, shifting his hair to the side, blood still seeping from the opening in his face. “You took on the responsibility to watch over me but you were in over your head. You got tired of having to care for my needs because you had nobody to pay attention to your wants. You selfish bitch.”

Bastard. “YOU did this to yourself,” I yell from my position on the bed. “I did noth-” “YOU did everything. YOU pulled the trigger. I thought it was us, together until the end. But you ended me, you ended us,” he slams his hands onto the table below me causing me to flinch and shut my eyes. “You ended every possibility for me AND you to live a normal life. You wanted to be the good person, the person to take up for the freak and be the hero. You didn’t foresee the outcome, fool.”

He makes his way back to my hands, fumbles with my fingers he once held, and unties them from the posts. The whole situation leaves me speechless, I had stripped the life away him. I killed him before he could kill himself, I was getting rid of him, he was mine. I did it. So why the hell is he here? Finally, deciding to open my mouth, I ask, “Why did you bring me here? Why couldn’t you just leave me be?” “If you were in my position, would you have done the same for me?”

That was my answer.

I shift on the hard mattress, being skeptical all the while getting as far away as I can without getting off the bed. He makes his way to the table, going around to the other side of it. He arranges the pistol and makes his way across the room to the very spot he originated from. Hesitating, I make my way to pick up the firearm and I shift it in both hands. Instead, I turn the safety on and make my way towards him. Looking at him, a tear rolls down my face. There are a million thoughts running through my head but I can’t muster out a single one. I wrap my arms around his thin waist and he doesn’t hesitate to do the same. Stupid shit, he didn’t think this one through. “Fuck you,” I whisper and put the gun against his head. With the safety off and my finger on the trigger, I pull it.

*bang*

And he was gone. No longer haunting me, I chuckle to taunt him, to show my victory all the while dropping the gun to the ground and screaming. I smile, blood running out of my mouth and head onto the floor as my body falls along with it. Laughing and closing my eyes, I realize my mistake. I am him and he is me, I finally died along with the memory of him.

~ BREAKING NEWS

Girl found dead with a gunshot wound to the head. A singular gunshot was heard early this morning in an old, building that burnt down six years ago. The girl was said to be linked to the unsolved murder of Min Yoongi six years ago. More on this story tonight.

[dartsadvice]

Best Tabletop Pinball Machine: Limitless Fun for All Ages (Top 5 Picks)

One of the world's most popular games has found its form as a tabletop version! The pinball machine has been around for centuries now, entertaining generation after generation. Now, it's time to move to a modern version that your little ones can also enjoy.

Meet-tabletop pinball machine! Your best companion when it comes to home entertainment on a budget. These table versions are prevalent nowadays due to their affordable price range, innovative features, portability, and sounds effects!

Check out what are the top five models of our choice and get ready for endless fun!

Are you getting impatient? Here are the top 3 recommendations that will make the best tabletop pinball machine pick!

Top 3 Recommendations

Editor's Choices

Best Selling

Title

BRIO 34017 Pinball Game | A Classic Vintage, Arcade Style Tabletop Game for Kids and Adults Ages 6...*

Merchant Ambassador (Holdings) MLB Wooden Pinball Baseball Game*

Buffalo Games - Pinball*

Price

$49.99

$28.99

$37.00

Prime

Customer's Rating

-

-

-

Best Feature

Best Pick

Runner Up

Great For Solo Players

Buy on Amazon

Buy on Amazon

Buy on Amazon

Editor's Choices

Title

BRIO 34017 Pinball Game | A Classic Vintage, Arcade Style Tabletop Game for Kids and Adults Ages 6...*

Price

$49.99

Prime

Customer's Rating

-

Best Feature

Best Pick

Buy on Amazon

Title

Merchant Ambassador (Holdings) MLB Wooden Pinball Baseball Game*

Price

$28.99

Prime

Customer's Rating

-

Best Feature

Runner Up

Buy on Amazon

Best Selling

Title

Buffalo Games - Pinball*

Price

$37.00

Prime

Customer's Rating

-

Best Feature

Great For Solo Players

Buy on Amazon

5 Best Tabletop Pinball Machines of 2021 - My Reviews

#1. BRIO 34017 Pinball Game - Best Pick

Our top pick goes out to Amazon's best selling item - The Brio pinball game! If you want a tabletop pinball game, you can have hours of fun and not be limited by batteries, the stick around!

The Brio tabletop pinball game is a quality machine made out of wood and designed for both kids and adults!

Its battery-free design is what attracted us the most. You will never again worry about whether you brought a spare pack on your trip. No sir! However, the lack of batteries does have some flaws. You won't have any sound effects or lights if you are looking for that.

The entire game is made out of durable and sturdy materials and is safe for children. With over 1000 safety tests, the Brio pinball machine is a well-developed game for your young ones.

As for the other design features, it has pretty respective sizing. The 20.5" x 13.5" dimensions make it a perfect companion to your next road trip. Plus, the pinball machine comes with a leg at the back that keeps it upright.

Moreover, the tabletop pinball component includes other 3D elements such as hidden tunnels and ramps that make fun! I bet this will be a perfect little addition to all your family nights. Although the recommended age is for kids six years and more, we see no reason why adults should pass on the fun.

Pros

Awesome 3D elements

Wood design

Convenient dimensions

No batteries required

Cons

Lacks sound effects and lights

BUY FROM AMAZON

#2. Merchant Ambassador Pinball Baseball Game - Runner Up

The runner up pick goes out to the impressive Merchant Ambassador pinball machine game. This is the absolute best solution when you are in the blue trying to find the perfect birthday gift for your kids. Plus, did you see the price of the game? Pretty cheap, right?

As you can see from the design, this tabletop pinball machine would be an excellent gift for a baseball fan! When it's raining, and they can't play their favorite open-field game, it's time to bring the fun indoors and have a blast with the Merchant Ambassador.

This is one of those pinball games that are designed to replicate a big-league ballpark. If you want your child to get a realistic feel when playing this game, you have made a mistake-free purchase.

It's so simple but yet so effective when the time of leisure rolls around! You can put it in the kid's playroom or practically anywhere around the home, such as the coffee table or office.

What's great about it is that the game comes with 30 MLB team stickers. Your child can make their favorite team logo in the middle and decorate the rest of the wooden game with the remaining teams.

So what do you say? Are you ready to hit doubles, singles, and home runs with this super-affordable tabletop pinball game? Surprise your child with the best present ever!

Pros

Affordable

It comes with 30 MLB team stickers

Storage compartment for accessories

Cons

Plastic design

No sounds effects

Not the ultimate quality

BUY FROM AMAZON

#3. Buffalo Games Tabletop Pinball - Great For Solo Players

If you want a classic arcade-style pinball game, you should check out this from the Buffalo game. It's a tabletop version of your favorite game, offering a realistic feel without the bulky hardware.

Don't like to mess around the house? I get you! Who does? With Buffalo tabletop pinball game, you will never again have to deal with accessories sprinkled around your floor, just waiting for you to step on them.

Once you or your kid is done playing the game, it's easy to pack it up and store it for the next time!

Oh, and the setup is an absolute delight. All you need to do is unfold the machine and snap the supporter at the bottom. Slide in the backboard, and you are good to go! Can you even believe it's that easy?

Moreover, this product comes with 13 pinballs. Ten of them fit in the launcher, while the remaining three are there for back-up. Because let's face it. As soon as you hand over the game in the young ones' hand, you can say goodbye to a few pinballs.

Once you set the game up, your moments of fun can finally begin. Are you a solo player? Great, the game has the option for one-person play. Or you can take turns between friends and even form teams to see who has the better game.

Pros

Great for solo play

Arcade-style

Suitable for all ages

Easy to set up

No batteries required

Includes ten balls

Cons

No lights and sounds effects

BUY FROM AMAZON

#4. Matty's Toy Stop Tabletop Lazer Space Pinball - Top Bundle Deal

Coming up next is Matty's ToyStop tabletop pinball machine. If you want the ultimate gift idea on a budget, you have got to take a look at this one!

What makes this tabletop pinball machine unique is that you get the two-pack deal! You get a Neon Lazer Space pinball game and a Neon Lazer Space Track Games! Now, this is a rare find if you ask me. Plus, the product has a pretty good price for a bundle set.

If you are not a fan of electronic pinball games and want to get something simple that is not a complete hazard, check this out. The first game is person-powered only! With Neon Lazer Space pinball, you can use the ball and give it a fire start using two flippers. Reach the top score with ease!

As I mentioned, you will only have to use a spring plunger to start the game. This is a classic system, loved by both adults and kids!

Now, let's talk about the second game. The Neon Lazer Space Track Games allows you to reach a high score by firing the discs through the other side's slots. It's a high-speed mini-game for those who like a bit of adrenaline rush at home.

As for the dimensions, the tabletop pinball machine game measures out 8'' x 16'' and can fit practically anywhere due to the lightweight!

Pros

Convenient 8” x 16” measures

No batteries required

Easy to set up

Reach high points easily

Cons

No sounds or lights

BUY FROM AMAZON

#5. WinSpin 2player Tabletop Pinball Machine - Top Sound Effects

One of the ultimate tabletop pinball machines and the one with the most creative effects is the WinSpin! Recently released, many customers did not have the chance to try it out, but those who did have only words of praise! Let's see what the WinSpin pinball machine has to offer.

Firstly this is a two-player game! Meaning, both you and your children can take turns and have a blast! It has a slightly larger measurement of 32"x 25," but it still follows the convenient setup. You can put it in the game room or have fun on the kitchen dining table.

Now, cover the good stuff. The Win Spin tabletop pinball machine allows you to use your creative side to the max! Exactly, when you play, you have the chance to create your prizes or be the game master.

While some of the other models on our list follow the classic arcade-style, this one is ultra-modern. It contains ringing sounds that scream excitement! When the ball hits the bell, it keeps you engaged and motivated to play for the win and grab points!

The electronic gaming pinball is an ideal addition to your family get-togethers. It offers an interactive gaming solution to the young and older ones. The recommended age for the little ones is five years and up.

Pros

Sound effects

Lighter weight

Convenient dimensions

Great for kids and adults

Includes eight balls

Spring-loaded plungers

Cons

Steep price

BUY FROM AMAZON

What to Know When Buying a Best Tabletop Pinball Machine?

Suppose your children are a big fan of pinball machines; it's time to surprise them with a tabletop version of their favorite game.

However, we need to cover a few ground rules before you get carried away and purchase something not worth the hype.

1. Build Quality

As you can notice from the review, some tabletop pinball machines are made out of plastic and some out of wood. These materials are often a basic determinator of the high or low price. Also, they will indicate whether the machine includes some innovative features such as lights and sounds.

Make sure you pick the material that is right up your alley of expectations. Don't select aluminum and think that it will work the same as some high-quality machine; it won't!

The highly addictive machine also has other components you should advise, such as ramps, playing field, flippers, and bumpers. There are the ones you should pay attention to if you want a flawless gaming session with your kids.

2. Portability

Since you are buying a tabletop pinball machine, you should also consider its portability. Sure, you can find tabletop versions that are incredibly light in weight, but are they convenient for road trips? Your kid is bound to want to take its new gift to the trip, so what can you do in this situation?

You can opt for a toy pinball version that will keep them entertained during the car ride. The dimensions of toy pinball machines are ridiculous since you can pack them up in the backpack and not even feel the weight. Just bring a spare pair of batteries.

3. Price

Investing in your gaming room equipment can be quite the slap on the wallet. Luckily, tabletop pinball machines are less expensive versions of the popular pinball.

The classic pinball machines are the ones you should set some money aside for. Their popularity grows year by year since it's getting harder to find a genuine antique model.

With tabletop pinball machines, the leading indicator of the price will be the features on it. For example, if a pinball machine has various lights and sound effects or a bunch of free accessories, you can expect a steep price. They are a good option if you want a realistic machine for your kids.

However, for everyday use, the traditional wooden or plastic pinball machines are not that bad, to be honest. Some of them lack lights and sound effects and run on batteries, but they still are an excellent option for game nights.

Preview Product Rating Price

BRIO 34017 Pinball Game | A Classic Vintage, Arcade Style Tabletop Game for Kids and Adults Ages... No ratings yet $49.99 Buy on Amazon

Merchant Ambassador (Holdings) MLB Wooden Pinball Baseball Game* No ratings yet $28.99 Buy on Amazon

Buffalo Games - Pinball* No ratings yet $37.00 Buy on Amazon

Matty's Toy Stop Deluxe Wood Tabletop Neon Lazer Space Pinball & Neon Lazer Space Fire... No ratings yet $34.95 Buy on Amazon

WinSpin 32"x25" 2player Tabletop Pinball Machine Game Board Custom Banner Prizes Outdoor Family...* No ratings yet $94.90 $79.99 Buy on Amazon

FAQs

How much should I pay for a pinball machine?

This all depends on your budget status. How much can you pay for a pinball machine? Also, you can decide whether you will go for the tabletop version or the arcade-style one.

Hence, pinball machines can cost between $25 to an even $25,000.

Is a pinball machine worth it?

Absolutely! If you want to deal with boredom, pinball machines are a huge hit! They have been around for years now, starting from the traditional arcade-style ones to modernized electronic or battery-free versions.

What are the best pinball machines of all time?

The best pinball machines of all time are Medieval Madness, Iron Maiden: Legacy of the Beast, Twilight Zone, Attack from Mars, Jurassic Park, and many more!

Over the years, pinball machines have developed incredible technology systems that impressed even the collectors of traditional pinball machines.

What is the most valuable pinball machine?

The most valuable pinball machine on our list is the tabletop version of the WinSpin. This electronic tabletop pinball machine includes some of the top creative components tabletop versions have to offer.

Due to the higher price, you can think of this one as a smart investment in your game room collection.

Final Words

And that's a wrap! Among impressive styles of pinball machines, we have selected the top five best tabletop pinball machines you can find nowadays for your kids. It's for sure that this machine will be the smartest investment you made for your gaming collection.

Don't forget to look out for different qualities such as price, durability, and building material!

One of the top options for a mistake-free purchase is the BRIO 34017 Pinball.

As Amazon's top pick, the BRIO pinball machine is a favorite of many customers looking to surprise their children with a new table gaming addiction.

BRIO 34017 Pinball Game | A Classic Vintage, Arcade Style Tabletop Game for Kids and Adults Ages 6...*

Product includes - The Pinball TableTop Game comes with 5 pieces including a wooden base and plastic top.

How to play - Pull back the lever and fire away to watch the points add up!

Product size - 20.5" x 13.5".

Perfect for ages 6+.

Safe for your child - We conduct more than 1,000 safety tests a year to ensure that our products conform to all safety standards, and we take pride in developing toys that are completely safe for children to play with.

$49.99

Buy on Amazon

The post Best Tabletop Pinball Machine: Limitless Fun for All Ages (Top 5 Picks) appeared first on Darts Advice.

source https://dartsadvice.com/best-tabletop-pinball-machine/

[raptorfiction]

A Bosmer, A Nord, A Khajiit, and an Argonian....

Cast:

Valys SageStalker: 67 years old, hunter and skilled apothecarian. Curmudgeonly, Matronly, and very down to earth. She prefers solitude and uneventful living

Bjorin Bjorksson: 23 years old, co-owner of Bjorksson’s General Goods. Excitable, adventurous, instigator. Always looking for the next adventure and trying to bring the people he considers friends along.

Bolverk Bjorksson: 32 years old. Owner of Bjorksson’s General Goods. Practical, Down to earth, welcoming. Unlike his younger brother, Bolverk is content to run his shop and live a rather peaceful existence. He is polite and welcoming to individuals of all races and gender.

Cracks-many-skulls: Early to mid 20’s.Jack-of-all-trades. Gentle, protective, cowardly. Despite his name, Skulls is actually a rather gentle individual who prefers to avoid conflict. When presented with it, he’ll either back away if it’s a verbal confrontation, or hide if it’s physical. Though he will do whatever it takes to protect friends.

T’ziva: Age unknown.Skilled thief and pickpocket. Playful, childish, lively. and  All work and no play makes T’ziva a dull girl. The high energy Khajiit prefers to play and pull pranks rather than take things seriously. If life’s not for having fun, what is it for??

Valys pauses for a moment as she looks over everything in her packs, going over the list in her head of things she had planned on taking in to town today. Satisfied that she had packed everything, she placed them on her pulley-hitched scaffold and lowered them to the ground. As for Valys herself, she was content just scrabbling her way down her tree house. It offered her the opportunity to keep her climbing skills sharp and to make sure no critters had been caught in her traps.

Luckily for her, nothing had today. Though usually it was some poor, unlucky bird or a frostbite spider that thought it would have an easy meal. Pleased at the lack of extra work, Valys shifted her packs to her hand wagon and proceeded to take off.

The trip wasn’t all that long, she only lived a mile or so outside of the village, but it was plenty enough space that she wouldn’t have to be pestered by self righteous Nords who thought anyone who wasn’t a Nord was trash. Not that all Nords were that way, but too many of them were. Easier to just stay away from them when she could.

As she strolled into town, she gave the obligatory head nod to those few who greeted her and continued on her path to the General Store. She parked her wagon outside the front door and hefted the rather large and heavy packs over her shoulders, stumbling through the front door.

“By Talos, woman!” Bolverk scolded, making his way around the counter to assist her. “You could have shouted, Bjorin or myself would have helped you.”

As he took a couple of the packs from her, Valys responded with a brusque grunt and dropped the others onto the floor. “I could have. But then I run the risk of your brother trying to convince me to join one of his idiotic expeditions.”

“Aye, I suppose that’s true.” Bolverk sighs, carrying her stuff into the stockroom to go over what was what and what she was owed.

“Besides, it’s a good workout for me.” Valys follows, dragging her merchandise along with her. “I have some good stuff for you today. Several pelts cleaned and as is. Some fashioned into clothing, others into blankets.” She points to the first pack. “Then some meat, cured and preserved. Goat, Elk, the usual. Dug up some clams and also some mudcrabs. That’s all preserved in jars.”

She gestured to the other pack he had been carrying as well as one of the packs she was dragging. “The rest are the usual poultices, potions, bundles of dried herbs.” She motions to the last, smallest pack of the group. “Should be enough to stock you through to the end of the month.”

“Aye, looks like you’ve got some good stock in here. A rather successful hunt it seems.” Bolverk tallies up the items in the first pack, tallying up totals and prices.

Suddenly, the sound of the front door being flung open resonates through the shop and Valys and Bolverk exchange glances. Heavy boot steps are heard crossing the floor followed shortly by a loud, booming voice.

“Valys’ wagon is outside! Where is she?!” Valys groans and glances about for a hiding place. But too late. “Valys!” Bolverk’s younger brother, Bjorik bursts in, arms wide open in welcome. The bulky Nord tromps forward, attempting to scoop the much smaller Bosmer up into a Nord sized bear hug.

Valys moves to evade it, but the close quarters of the stockroom leave her with almost no free room to maneuver. She soon finds herself crushed between large, bulky arms and a burly chest. Perhaps Bjorin didn’t know his own strength, but Valys soon found herself gasping for air, her ribcage squeezed in a rather painful manner, arms pinned to her sides.

She squirmed, her little legs kicking at Bjorin where she could make contact. And make contact she did. The toe of her fur lined shoe collided harshly with Bjorin’s groin, causing him to drop her and then drop to the ground himself, coughing and laughing. Valys however, didn’t find it quite as amusing, doubled over, hugging herself as she panted.

“What the hell was that?!” She aimed another kick at Bjorin, succeeding at nailing him in the side. As the giant toppled over, he laughed again. Valys pulled back to repeat the assault when a heavy hand on her shoulder stopped and calmed her.

Bolverk didn’t look much more pleased than Valys, though he approached his brother with a sense of calm, offering his hand to help him up. “Perhaps brother, you shouldn’t crush the person who is capable and probably willing to poison you when you aren’t looking.”

“Nah.” Bjorin takes his brother’s arm by the wrist with a loud clap, pulling himself up. “Valys wouldn’t do that. I’m far too charming.”

“You’re right, I wouldn’t.” Valys leans against a post, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’d just set you on fire.” With a snap of her fingers, a small flame lights at the tip of her index finger before she snuffs it out. “Waste of good meat, otherwise.”

The brothers seem unphased by her brand of humor--if it is humor. Bolverk claps his brother upside the back of his head before returning to his chore of tallying up all the inventory Valys had brought. Rubbing the back of his head, Bjorin turns to Valys, a fool’s grin from ear to ear plastered on his face.

“So Valys--”

“No. I’m going to stop you right there.” She cuts him off before he can continue on. “I’m not going on one of your ridiculous adventures. Do you remember what happened last time?”

“Yes, I remember what happened last time.” The Nord whines like a scolded child.

“What happened last time?” Her good eye swiveled onto him, with an almost piercing gaze.

“Your horse was killed and I was unconscious for three days.”

“Three days.” She reiterates. “AND you lost me my horse. So now I have to haul this shit into town by myself.” She’s nearly fuming as she glowers  at the much, much taller individual.

“But this time will be different.” He pleads with her, falling to his knees. Now just half a head taller than her, he flings his arms around her waist and gives her the biggest puppy dog look possible.

“No.” She pushes him off and stalks off towards the front of the shop.

“But Valys…” He stumbles to his feet and follows. “I’m bringing backup this time.”

“Back up?” She scoffs. “Who was stupid enough to allow you to con them into going…. Wherever you’re going this time?”

“Old tomb about a day’s hike east of here. Stories say there’s some sort of treasure or reward buried way deep down.”

“Because stories are never made up.” Valys snorts. “And you never told me who you convinced to go with you.”

“Cracks-many-Skulls.” He says almost triumphantly.

“Cracks-many-Skulls. The Argonian.” She mutters in disbelief. “The super nice one who’s always taking up odd jobs to help people out?”

“Yes.”

“The one who’s so sensitive he cries when a child stumbles and scrapes their knee.” She asks.

“...Yes.”

“The one who’s practically afraid of his own shadow and runs away at the first sign of conflict.” Valys adds to her commentary.

“....Yeah…”

“Oh bravo.” She comments with all the sarcasm in her being. “Nothing will be able to defy you now.”

“I have more than just him!” Bjorin retorts.

“What? A wet piece of parchment? Ooooh. Those draugr better beware!” She scoffs and brushes Bjorin off. “The answer is no. If you want to get yourself killed, leave me out of it.” And with that, she pushes past him back into the storage room.

Bjorin, looking rather put out and disheartened, picked himself off of the floor. Hiking his trousers up, he sets his jaw and saunters off, out of the shop to prepare himself.

Upon her return, Bolverk has two small pouches of septims ready and waiting for Valys. The Bosmer eyes them suspiciously, and then eyes Bolverk in much the same manner. “What’s that? I know my merchandise isn’t worth that many septims. What are you up to?”

“You know he’s going to get himself killed…” Bolverk begins.

“No.”

“He needs an experienced hand--”

“No.”

“Someone who can steer him clear of real danger--”

“I said, no!”

“Valys…”

“Why don’t you do it, if you’re so concerned! He’s your brother!” Valys snaps, arms crossed over her chest.

“Because someone needs to run the shop. How is your merchandise going to sell if no one is here to sell it?” Bolverk answers calmly. “And besides, he doesn’t listen so well to me. You, on the other hand… he listens to.”

“Like hell he does.”

“He does.” Bolverk assures her. “Because you’re experienced.” He pauses for a moment before carrying on. “And because he’s sweet on you.”

“Oh for the love of Akatosh…” She rolls her eyes. “I’m old enough to be his grandmother.”

“Yes, but you know you elves have different lifespans than us non-mer folk.”

“Which brings me to another point.” She lifts a finger. “I’m not even a Nord!”

“After all this time, do you really think it bothers us?” Bolverk arches an eyebrow, looking almost offended.

“Fine, I’ll give you that one.” She concedes. “But I still don’t understand it. Nor do I like it.”

“You don’t have to. Just use it to keep him from doing something irrevocably stupid.”

Valys stares at Bolverk for a moment, likely imagining him on fire. Eventually she lets out an irritated and defeated sigh, hands falling to her sides.

“Fine.” She points a finger at him. “But you owe me.”

“That’s what the gold is for.”

“Fuck your gold.” She waves her hand dismissively. “I don’t want it. Keep it. You owe me. A favor. A big one. To be called in when I need it. Understood?”

Bolverk stared down at her for several long minutes, weighing his options. Finally, he extends a large hand, big enough to wrap around her head. “Deal. One large favor to be called in when it’s needed.”

Valys shakes his hand and lets out another annoyed sigh. “I assume he’s already got supplies prepared?”

“This is my brother we’re speaking of.”

“Naturally.” She rolls her eyes and starts stalking off towards the front door. “Better go find him and make sure he doesn’t die just getting out of town…”

[sunshinedreary]

The Peanut Butter Sandwich

Once, in middle school, I saw my father make a peanut butter sandwich and I’ve never forgotten it.

Peanut butter is a critical food in my life, and always has been. I’m fond of saying that if I ever develop a peanut allergy I will be fucked beyond all comprehension because there’s a lot of peanut butter consumption happening here. Whenever I admit this fear, I shine it up with a layer of humor, but I am actually afraid of its potential to materialize. A woman I know and love ate peanut butter often for many years of her life and then stopped eating it for a spell, no reason in particular. When she started eating it again, she realized she had developed a peanut allergy and hasn’t eaten it since but told me with sorrowful eyes and a disappointed mouth that she misses it every day. This tale radiates Edgar Allan Poe levels of foreshadowing and horror for me, despite the fact that it is delivered by a tall slip of a garden-goddess whose short gray hair sparkles and whose eyes shine with love and positivity on the grayest day. I cannot break up with peanut butter; ours is a relationship that has existed for a very long time.

Peanut butter is an Everything Staple for those of us who don’t [YET] have a [MAYBE? JESUS CHRIST, MAYBE?] peanut allergy. Part of why I eat it so much probably stems from the fact that I grew up with a single mother who lived in a constant state of obsession over what she ate, and by extension, what I ate. Before you get mad at her, let me assure you that there was no shaming going on, no judgement. While it was impossible not to personally imprint the world’s view of people who don’t have tiny figures, my mother approached food almost empirically, like she was a food scientist pulling apart the complex chemistry of nourishment to decipher the reasons why things that tasted so good could attach to her thighs and belly and then turn from flesh into an emotional burden of guilt and self-scrutiny. I like to say I am making up for lost time with long-lost food loves from my childhood and the picky first quarter of my life, peanut butter lives in that forbidden pantry for me along with garlic, sour cream, and sugar cereals. Look, I don’t write sonnets and poetic love couplets about garlic as a result of being given a stepfather who loathes its very existence, YOU DO.

Anyway, my mother never made me feel bad about myself and how I looked, she always encouraged and loved me. But her intense focus on the food she ate sort of rubbed off on me and stigmatized certain foods that I ate. Sometimes it was a direct attack: peanut butter was in the cross-hairs, probably because I always wanted it. I’d happily eaten regular Jif during all of my early years and then somewhere around the time I turned eight, she became convinced that peanut butter was going to make us both sick and give us cancer. She’d already had breast cancer, but was understandably concerned about staying in remission, so the conventional wisdom at that time was to worship at the shitty altar of low-fat foods. From that moment on, my life was a guessing game of When Is Peanut Butter Evil And When Is It A Friend? My mother wavered between ostracizing the delicious, sugary, and fatty foods we liked and determinedly choosing the reduced fat EVERYTHING. There was no constant, but certain food items were more demonized than others. To whit, I still feel guilty as a 38-year-old adult looking at sugar cereals in the grocery store. I feel like she knows. And she doesn’t like it.

Reduced fat Jif, by the way, is like a thick, congealed, freakish science experiment that’s gone wrong: the sugar and the peanuts stopped emulsifying at the exact moment when they were destined to be at their most disgusting states, and just before it all hardened up, someone stirred in a healthy dollop of earwax. Sorry for that.

I just want to be clear that regular Jif is excellent (and the only peanut butter to use in baking). I like the Crunchy Jif too, but if we are going with the maximum awesome for crunchy peanut butters, I err on the side of Skippy Extra Crunchy, because: yes. If you want to know about natural peanut butters, I will always pick crunchy natural peanut butter, and it’s got to be Crazy Richard’s or Teddy for me. When they add salt to natural peanut butter, it’s a food crime. Come at me.

You begin to see that my relationship with peanut butter is not unlike a great romance (or a Shakespearean comedy where I am Falstaff, but with peanut butter instead of spirits), fraught with ups and downs. Allow me to complicate it a little more:

Every time I pull out a butter knife and use it to slowly and carefully spread whatever type of peanut butter I happen to want at that moment on whatever type of bread I happen to have at that moment, carefully…out to the edges…I think of my father, not my mother. Why? You want to know why. I just wasted a shitload of your time on a peanut butter soliloquy that orbited my mother’s decades-long audit of a nut butter, not discussing the fact that my dad is an actual asshole who ruined peanut butter sandwiches for me over the course of perhaps 27 years of my life.

Here is the plain truth: for all of my mother’s food obsessions, reduced fat Snackwell cookies one day and Saralee pound cake, Mrs. Richardson’s fudge sauce, and vanilla ice cream the next, the confusion she created only manifested with food items, not with WHO I WAS or WHAT I LOOKED LIKE. My father used food as a weapon to shame me into whatever it was he thought I should be (I still don’t know what that is, by the way). My confusion is compounded because I couldn’t deny my paternal genes if I wanted to: we are all short, thick, and would have made excellent peasants back in the dark ages. What I’m saying none too bluntly is that not a one of us are pulling any awards for shapely figures or gorgeous looks. Middle of the road in all ways physical.

My parents divorced when I was three and my father had custody every other weekend (I was not a fan of this). He eventually remarried, conveniently, the weekend before my mother got remarried, in the same month of the same year. Every other weekend, my father and stepmother would deride and scold me for what I ordered if we went out to dinner; they would stare at every bite I took, and control the food in the house so I never ate without them knowing what and how much. My stepsister was tall and thin, whereas I am rather shaped like a frostycone, so I suspect that she did not have the same rules imposed on her when I was not around. I would ask for snacks and they would say no. They did everything but lock the pantry. We were allowed dinner on Friday night and then one lunch item on Saturday before dinner. I was restricted. My stepsister ate what she wanted, when she wanted, and would quietly slip away from time to time. We know why.

My mother bought me a super heinously ugly sweater at The Gap once when I was in eighth grade. It was thick and bulky, sprinkled with white and green pine trees and white horizontal stripes over a light gray background. If I’m honest, it was not real on-brand for The Gap, I am still shocked to this day that they sold such a shitbird design in their stores, so naturally I hated the shapeless wonder and refused to wear it until my mother guilted me into it (precisely twice). The second time I wore the sweater was the last time. It was a Sunday afternoon and almost time for my father to bring me home, which put me in a good mood. He and I ran into one another in the living room when I came downstairs for a drink of water. He hadn’t seen me yet that day, and I will qualify the WTF-ness of not having seen him all day by telling you that before he got remarried, the public library in town spent more time with me than he did. He and my stepmother did whatever they did downstairs (their bedroom and office were on the first floor) while my stepsister and I watched TV upstairs in her bedroom. My father’s face immediately flashed in anger and he grabbed the sleeve of my sweater, “What is this shit you’re wearing? Why do you always look so bad? Why can’t you ever wear clothes that LOOK GOOD?”

I just stared at him, gobsmacked, feeling much like a tennis ball that just got walloped by a Williams sister. Strangely, the first thing I wanted to say to defend myself was, “She bought it at The Gap, isn’t that good enough for you?”

Yeah kid, the class issues are the real heart of the issue here.

I never ate peanut butter sandwiches at my father’s house, even though they always had Old Pride wheat bread and Jif Creamy peanut butter. I remember because I saw my father make a peanut butter sandwich once. It was Saturday, between lunch and dinner. I was standing in the kitchen and my father pulled out the yellow plastic bag of Old Pride- the nutty wheat smell breezed out, little flecks of grain sewn into a soft pillow ready for its fate as a sandwich. The lid unscrewed from the Jif quietly and that immediate, powerful smell of peanut butter hit my hungry stomach. My father swirled the peanut butter across the bread, an inch thick. It seemed unthinkable to me and my eyes grew wide. An inch thick. Even when peanut butter was not on the bad list at my mother’s house, it was meant to be used sparingly; I never had full autonomy free from guilt when I made my peanut butter sandwiches. An inch thick. I think my father noticed my face because he hastily layered the top piece of bread on his completed sandwich and gave me a look that was half angry, half embarrassed before removing all traces of food and walking down the hall to his office. An inch thick. I will never forget it. I can still see the countertop, the bread, all that peanut butter- not for me. Made by someone who did nothing but diminish me in ways I still can’t reconcile.

I wish I could make a peanut butter sandwich without thinking of him, but that doesn’t stop me from enjoying them. Luckily, he is only linked to the creation of the sandwich and not the relishing of its taste, texture, and smell. It’s these weird, nuanced moments that show me where he broke me. But there are strange, funny things I associate with my father as well. He calls long toenails “lunch hooks” and I will never know why, but it makes me laugh. He taught me the ideal way (in my opinion) to eat a muffin: slice it in half horizontally and butter the inside of each half. I still say, “Don’t let it get away from you” about staying on top of tasks and that is purely my father. I’m militant about notifying people when I receive things from them in the mail, because he told me it’s the right thing to do, AND IT IS. When he laughs, it’s rare, but it’s a deep belly laugh, and it’s nice because he only does that when it’s true. My father is not a sympathy laugher, he’s not here to make you feel good about anything. He’s worked hard to educate himself and gain upward mobility in his jobs, but he’s also been an asshole to a lot of people in his personal life. I just know he is not allowed to be an asshole about my motherfucking peanut butter sandwiches anymore.

Update 4/15/20: I haven’t thought about my father while making a peanut butter sandwich since I first wrote this. I’ll take the win.

[shinigamibutterfly]

Dream Walking

The first draft, unedited, hella old. The pace was fast, too fast, Myungjun was a slave driver wanting to get busy. It was supposed to be a one shot and now we’re on chapter 14 and finally at the reveal. We haven’t even gotten to them getting together yet.

The first chapters didn’t change much from this. But everything after did.

Jinwoo tilted his head allowing better access to his neck for the impossibly soft lips that were currently pressing kisses into it. The feeling of warm hands sliding up under the layers of his shirts was making his toes curl. The hands were strong, slightly calloused, and knew what they were doing. His own hands were trailing down board shoulders trying to find some kind of purchase on the body before him to pull their body closer. Whoever she was, her frame was bulky he thought only to lose that train once sharp teeth began nipping at his neck. He was already completely lost by the time his clothes were removed, all but his boxers though he wasn't sure when that had happened. He was still trying desperately to pull the woman forward and into him. He wanted to feel her curves against him. As she was kissing his shoulder, his head still thrown back unable to see her face he finally got his way. 

Jinwoo woke with a start, sweat gathering on his brow. He looked out at his dark room, his breathing coming in pants. That wasn't a woman in his dream. He couldn't stop the sigh that escaped his lips as he looked down at his sheets, they were covered in sweat and his arousal was evident even in the scant moonlight filtering through his skylight window. "Fuck..." He didn't move for a long minute instead trying to block out the feeling of hard cock pressed into his own that had awoken him from an otherwise not so bad dream. 

It took him half an hour to get settled back into a place where he even felt like going back to sleep. Which was on the couch and far away from any kind of evidence that his dreams might or might have left him. He would deal with all of that in the morning. For now it was better to just get as much sleep as possible before his shift at the ungodly hour of six am. It was currently only three and he was not going to miss any more of those two hours he was afforded.

It was around four am that he was awoken again though this time it was to the sound of something breaking. It was with an even bigger jolt that he awoke to find himself standing over the ruins of his alarm clock. Recalling his dream he remembered something about breaking the jar of Confucius to win the luck of a thousand years. He sighed to himself for the second time that morning. He knew what this meant, he'd started sleep walking again.

A few more colorful curse words slipped from his lips at his discovery and he abandoned sleep altogether in favor of preparing for the day. His thoughts were already turning dark as he hopped into a quick shower after assuring his sheets were indeed mess free. Arriving early had never killed anyone as far as he knew at least that's what he kept reminding himself as he threw on his uniform and headed to the door at a little past four thirty. It wasn't the first time he'd had to make the commute at odd hours. Though those times were far and few between. 

As he was closing up behind himself he was startled to see someone coming up the stairs at this unholy hour. An hour when only exam students and the insomniacs were still awake by choice. Whoever they were they were heading right towards him. He didn't have it in himself to be more than strictly polite first thing in the early dawn. Instead of greeting them as he normally would he lowered his head over his lock pretending it took more time than it actually did. He hoped it would lead whoever they were to just continue on and walk past him. His tactic failed though as they stopped not a foot from him. Waiting he assumed for him to acknowledge them. He cursed living in a friendly neighborhood.

With an internal groan, sigh, and tantrum he looked up. Jinwoo suddenly forgot the reason he'd been resisting to begin with. The smile that met his vision was stunning, the face it was attached to extremely attractive, and the rest he didn't dare try to take in for too long considering the most recent content of his dreams. He didn't need to add fuel to whatever fire that was.

Jinwoo nodded to the new comer having never seen him in the apartment building before and he knew everyone on his side of the building at least by face. He was feeling a little regretful that he hadn't put that much into his appearance. He had planned to just go to work and come straight home to cram in a much needed drama binge before he started the hectic week ahead. Monday was always his least favorite and there was sleep walking in the forecast. 

"Hi I'm your new neighbor." The walking smile said and Jinwoo wondered why the voice was so high for a male. It must have shown on his face as it the smile changed to a grimace. "I wasn't expecting anyone to be awake at this hour." It was then that Jinwoo noted the convenience store bag and coffee in the man's hands, he might have been planning to be awake either.

"I'm not usually." Jinwoo answered a small frown forming on his lips wondering which apartment was empty that this man would be introducing himself to him. "Which apartment...?" He lowered his keys to his side, dropping them into his open bag. He was trying to ignore the scrunching of his face he could feel happening. He wasn't really awake enough right now to be asked to do mental arithmetic and which neighbor had left recently there had a few leases up in the last month.

"103, I'm right over there." The man pointed at the door across from them a smile over taking his face again this time it was enough blind. "I'm Kim Myungjun by the way."  The dark haired brunette held out his free hand and Jinwoo shook it in reflex, it was warm. 

"Park Jinwoo. I'm right here in 105." He found himself smiling and wondered when the last time he smiled this early in the morning was. He pushed that thought aside and thought more about how he could be getting coffee now too instead of chit chatting. "I guess we should get along, but if you don't mind I need to get going." 

"Oh sure sorry." Myungjun moved away from the stairs and towards his own apartment with another smile. As he opened the door Jinwoo was already bounding down the stairs but behind him he could hear a faint. "I'll definitely see you around." He let the comment go in favor of thinking of what kind of caffeine might keep him awake long enough to shake off the aftereffects of his dream. He still felt like just looking at another guy right now might be too much.

It took him two customers into his shift and a cup of coffee to remember who all had moved out or around the four story apartment building recently. The loud couple in room 107 had moved up a floor, away from his ceiling to room 111. Jerri had said it was something about the lease having been ended before her husband Takuya had gone to sign it that had them moving. The new resident of 107 was a quiet girl by the name of Emma who barely made a sound. It was something  he was immense grateful for, though he wouldn't dream of saying anything to Jerri. Apartment 113 found itself vacant again as the residents had moved without a word or even a goodbye. He wasn't quite sure of the on goings on the even side of the building but he knew the tenets had also changed a little. Which left apartment 103. 

It had him kicking himself that he had forgotten the previous tenet of 103 had moved. The tenet had been roughly the same height as Jinwoo with messy brown hair and they were close to being best friends. Of course Minhyuk hadn't texted him more than twice since he moved having gone straight from moving to vacation on a cruise halfway across the world with his girlfriend. Where there was no signal.

Three more hours of his shift passed before he remembered why it was important Minhyuk was the one that moved. Not only did his best friend in the building leave him, he also had six or so spare keys to Minhyuk's place. Because the short brunette himself would lose them at his place, leave them at his girlfriend's, and had handed him one for such instances. There was also that little detail that Minhyuk knew about his sleep walking and would let him vent about it. Because it scared him and there weren't many people around him that were willing to wake him up or even noticed he was sleeping.

As the work day passed he found himself pouring over all the conversations they had about his sleep walking. It wasn't something that happened all that often. He had told Minhyuk about the dreams he did remember having while he slept walked, there really weren't many of them. He would just wake up in weird places like his couch, the stairwell, and in more recent years Minhyuk's couch or bed. Places he had been thinking of before bed or places he felt safe. 

To hear Minhyuk tell it though it though in his bouts of sleep walking he always seemed to be searching for something. And the brunette often tried to talk to him in the moment to glean what he could about why Jinwoo was sleep walking. Being the curious person he is he wanted to get to the bottom of it since everything else hadn't worked. The types of dreams he had varied though and the only useful information that had gotten them was the name Confucius and that there was a jar that needed to be broken. Or some kind of dam the item never stayed the same but the idea of breaking it open did. The brunette often pondered this as he was deeply interested in psychology but the answers always slipped out of his fingers just like the objects Jinwoo picked up in his sleep.

Those were the thoughts he kept circling around when he finally got off work at three o'clock. He was already feeling exhausted just thinking about all the work he would have to do before settling into his drama binge. He would have to sleep proof his apartment and dig out his rugged tried and true alarm clock, as well as the the spare keys. He reminded himself the on the brisk walk home forgoing his normal coffee stop on the way. The last thing he needed was to not be able to fall asleep at all. The last time he had tried that cure he had almost slept walked to work on his day off. 

He was just about to relax as he jingled his door handle. He wouldn't have to continue being friendly to everyone he saw work was over and he was home safe, as his mood had not improved throughout the day. He held in his sigh when he heard his neighbor's door open behind him. He cursed his slowness as he knew he couldn't slip inside quickly enough to get away.

"Ah...It's Jinwoo right?" The cheery voice was pleasant at least he thought to himself as he turned around a small indulging smile in place. He almost swallowed it at the sight before him. He hadn't really taken a good look at his neighbor earlier other than to note he was attractive. He now had to take that back, the man was gorgeous with his dark hair perfectly styled admittedly the headband was odd but not wrong on him. His clothes were tight in all the right places to show off how fit he was. Even with the extreme bags under wide brown eyes, he was currently making Jinwoo feel like a potato in his ill fitting uniform and messy blonde hair.

"Just Jinjin is fine." He found himself correcting out of habit it was weird to hear the name Jinwoo after hours. "Are you off to work Myungjun?" He forewent any titles as the other had and he wasn't particularly strict on them to begin with. The smile that got him probably would have outshone the sun.

"Haha no I've got night classes. I won't be back until around two am." Myungjun's smile was waning just a little a thought crossing his eyes that Jinwoo couldn't decipher. Then it was gone without a trace. "I guess that means we won't see each other that much." The tone was more disappointed than what Jinwoo was used to hearing from someone who barely knew him. 

"You never know." He found himself answering with a grin he didn't know he was capable of making. If he didn't know any better he would have thought they were flirting. "There might be four am coffee breaks." On that note he opened his door winked, and went inside without a backwards glance at the too interested look on the other male's face. When he slouched down his door berating his horrid flirting skills he listened for the laughing. It didn't come instead he heard an "oh shit I'm late...I'm glad..."  The rest was a mumble under his breath and then there were thundering footsteps down the stairs. Ten minutes later found Jinwoo wondering why he had flirted with a guy to begin with.

Settling down for his drama binge took another two hours. Forty minutes digging out all the spare keys that Minhyuk had hidden around his place, he was sure new keys would replace them, and the rest of the time sleep proofing. It was never easy judging what he would break or try to get into in his sleep. More than once he had found himself with the window open, broken lamps, or his broken alarm. He had eventually found a sturdy one that could take a beating, throwing, or whatever else he decided to do with it. Though he had already discovered long ago that an alarm was rarely necessary when he was sleep walking.

Falling asleep that night was easier than he thought it would be after going through the motions of preventative measures. He'd managed to fall asleep at eleven which was only an hour later than he preferred to get to sleep. It wasn't meant to last unfortunately.

In his dream the lips on his chest were chapped, still though they were soft. Planting kisses near his nipples as long hands worked over his sides digging blunt nails into the skin there drawing long moans from his lips. His hands were tangled in dark brunette hair, shorter than he liked it on girls. He could feel her chest just inches from touching him, the heat from her skin radiating off of her. His hands were hesitate on if he should push her downward towards his arousal or pull her upward for a kiss. She seemed okay with his indecision thighs wrapping around his own where he lay on the bed. 

Jinwoo found himself waking with a start for the second time in as many days. Looking down at himself in the moonlight felt like dejavu. "Motha'..." He cut himself off with a sigh rubbing his face with his hands. "I'm too old for this." He told himself glaring at his cock that was working it's way towards hard in the moonlight. It was undeterred by the distant dream feeling of a hard cock pressed against his thigh.  

Never once had he thought about being with a guy, until yesterday when his new neighbor moved in. It wasn't the first time that events had correlated into his dreams. It was just the first time sex had ever been involved. Because the face he had seen on who had thought was a very attentive girl had been his neighbor and his stupid blinding smile. Only it had been gentle and mixed with something he couldn't/wouldn't put a name to. A look that had been absent from all those dreams he'd had growing up as a boy.

He sighed tossing off the covers once more forgoing checking the sheets to settle back on the couch, though this time he donned sleep pants and a cut off tee. Just in case he told himself staring at the clock it was only one in the morning. He settled in with a determined grunt he wasn't due in tomorrow until seven.

His dreams drifted around him like scenery, there some something cold warming in his hand. He kept walking looking for something he wasn't sure he would ever find. There was a sun sparkling in the horizon that he was sure he was chasing after. There were noises like banging and clicking but he paid them no mind still walking. It felt like his goal was so close. Just a stumbling away. 

Jinwoo didn't remember the last time he woke up feeling so rested. He didn't even want to open his eyes. But there was a niggling feeling in the back of his head that something wasn't actually right. He was pressed into something warm, malleable, and breathing. His slow mind provided him with a name. Minhyuk, he must have snuck into Minhyuk's bed again, he always slept better that way. It didn't feel quite this perfect but it was close. Then his mind helpfully provided the knowledge that Minhyuk had moved away around two weeks ago. 

He had never dreaded opening his eyes more than now. In all the instances his sleep walking had taken him too far, one time as far as the train station, he had never been afraid to open his eyes. That was because he knew no matter where he was it was going to be okay. This was not going to be okay, this wasn't Minhyuk who had given him a key for this, this wasn't some strange stairwell in a building he didn't know. It wasn't his couch. This was quite probably the bed of his new neighbor with whom he had only exchanged polite, if not flirty around the edges small talk. His life was over. 

"Are you awake now Jinjin?" The voice was filled with sleep and deeply attractive in ways that Jinwoo wasn't wanting to admit ever let alone while pressed into the owner's side. When he didn't answer the other just sighed but it sounded more defeated than annoyed. "I'm not mad, maybe  a little bit confused on how you got into my place..." The voice trailed off and he could feel eyes studying him. "If you wanted in my bed you could have just asked...." 

At that Jinwoo opened his eyes feeling a little more embarrassed because Myungjun sounded very serious. What greeted him was a smile that looked playful and not the least bit offended that he had moved backwards at those words, as much as he could with his arm trapped under a warm body. "I'm sorry..." He felt his face go red and he wondered if maybe he would ever live this down. 

Myungjun didn't say anything at first instead looking over his face reading him. He must have liked what he had seen because he only smiled with his eyes. "It's okay I mean you didn't do anything weird." Myungjun was sitting up now and there was that look on his face that had Jinwoo blinking like he was stuck in a dream. The look was gone though as suddenly as it had appeared. "So..." He paused taking in the situation by looking down at his sleep pants, the shirt he had been wearing was crumpled from where he had clung to him. 

"I'm sorry..." Jinwoo sprawled out on the bed before rolling off to stand looking at the dark haired brunette from the side, he was glad morning wood wasn't a problem today. He glanced at the clock on Myungjun's side table. "Fuck...Shit... I need to call in..." 

"It's already taken care of I answered your phone." Myungjun pointed to the aforementioned electronic next to his alarm clock. "You realize it's not good to sleep with your phone in your pocket right?"

"Wait...how long did you just let me sleep on you?" Jinwoo could feel his head spinning this situation was already out of control. "No wait when did I come in here?" He knew he might look crazy but it wasn't uncommon for him to remember nothing about his sleep walking, he would just wake up in places he hadn't gone to sleep.

"Well...I've always heard it was dangerous to wake up a sleep walker and when you started telling me..." Myungjun blushed a pretty shade of red and didn't continue. Instead he shrugged like it didn't really matter that much. "Either way how did you get in?"

"Minhyuk, the guy who lived here before left me like six spare keys through the years. I know they never change the locks I was going to give them to you." Jinwoo reached for his phone only to be pulled back onto the bed by his arm. He looked up at his neighbor confused.

"Just sleep, it seems like you need it and I've already called in for you. I'll be in the living room studying." Myungjun got up exposing the rest of his chest causing Jinwoo to blush even more. "I'm not mad." He said again before he left the room shutting the door behind him. Under his breath he was muttering to himself about plans.

If he hadn't been mistaken Jinwoo thought he had seen the other blushing. He wasn't about to stay but as soon as he grabbed his phone it started ringing. It was Minhyuk. He was supposed to get back soon. He answered quickly not wanting to miss this chance to talk to his best friend, especially with the events that were playing out. 

"Hello?" Minhyuk's soft and reasonable voice drifted over the phone and it hit Jinwoo how much he had really missed him. "Jinjin?" 

"Who else would answer my phone?" He asked face scrunching up at the thought, Myungjun had admitted to answering his phone not even five minutes ago. His life was such a mess.

"I called an hour ago knowing you would be on your first break and some guy calling himself your soulmate answered and told me to call back now." Minhyuk's usually reasonable voice was lower than normal and some background noises could be heard that sounded a lot like his girlfriend nagging him. A few minutes of silence followed. "Sorry about that Sana doesn't understand the word no in the early morning."

"What was that about soulmate?" Jinwwoo didn't recognize his own voice as he squeaked it out. What was Minhyuk on about? Why wasn't Myungjun in here kicking him out of his home instead of letting him take up his bed? There were a lot of questions piling up.

"His name was Myungjun I think? I thought someone had taken your phone while you were sleep walking...But he said you were right there and he put you on speaker. You answered my questions like you always do." He didn't need to see him to know that the brunette was shrugging. "I think you found what you were looking for if that's any consolation. Anyway I called because I'll be home in a few days and I want to meet up. I love Sana to death but I need you to save me." 

"Sure the usual?" Jinwoo let himself be dragged away from his own life for a moment. "I mean I know Sana whines a lot but you're the one who decided to go on a trip with her." He smiled despite himself getting more comfortable on the bed, which wasn't hard because of all the comfortable blankets and pillows, it reminded him of his own bed. Or the bed in those dreams he'd been having lately. Something clicked into place with that thought but he wasn't sure what.

"It was a test run, sure I've already moved in but I haven't signed the lease and we both know 113 is always vacant because of Mrs. Hayes and she moved out this month too." Minhyuk replied with a sigh and his best friend could almost hear him as he peered around. "I want to do this right too. So we're going shopping when I get back."

The meaning wasn't lost on Jinwoo. "Are you sure? I mean you're only twenty now." He loved Sana for his best friend but he wasn't about to just let him waltz into something without being sincere.

"I'm sure." Minhyuk's voice was resolute and he wasn't about to argue and thankfully he didn't have to. "Well with that out of the way tell me what's with some guy answering your phone? I thought you were strictly into chicks? I'm not judging just...oh wait....couldn't that be what needed broken open?" Minhyuk's mind went way faster than Jinwoo's so he paused letting his friend catch up to his train of thought.

"Wait... are you saying that the reason I was sleep walking was because I was trying to find this guy who randomly claimed to be my soulmate to my best friend?" Jinwoo felt his head spinning again nothing was making sense anymore he must still be dreaming. There was simply no other explanation. "I mean..."

"That's not what I said but that's what it comes down to huh... Well stranger things have happened. He at least sounded nice and from what I know about you there's no way you wander into someone's house and cuddle them if you weren't interested. Well besides me but we both know I don't count." Minhyuk's voice was still so reasonable as the most unreasonable things came out of his mouth.

"Who said I was cuddled up to him in his bed?" Jinwoo countered feeling the heat on his face and there was a higher pitch in his voice that had him staring at the bedroom door. "I mean..." He paused unsure what he was even asking because he couldn't really deny the facts. The only days he ended up in Minhyuk's bed had been when his day had been really awful and even then he was cuddled into the side farthest from his friend. 

"Well it might or might not have come up when I was asking you questions...." Minhyuk went quiet again as more noise was heard from the background. "Well whatever..." He was quiet again talking to background. "Sana says hi and to tell you to follow your gut on this." More background talking and then the brunette's classic whine could be heard. "I've got to go before Sana loses her mind. There's a whale flipping or something on deck. I'll try to text later I'll be in signal range from here on."

"Have fun." Jinwoo couldn't help but laugh at the exasperation of his best friend. He was so whipped and sometimes it made him jealous. He couldn't remember the last time, scratch that any time he had been in a relationship. He turned face up on the bed again staring at the familiar ceiling. He had a million questions swimming through his head and the only person who could answer them was sitting in the living room studying. He took forty minutes to move.

It took every ounce of courage he could even possibly possess to leave the bedroom and make his way barefooted to the living room. The layout exactly the same as his apartment just flipped. Myungjun was indeed studying when he entered the room, sitting cross legged in front of the low table situated off to the side of the couch, it had been moved, facing the bedroom. He was waiting Jinwoo realized. 

"Jinjin..." Myungjun's voice was soft, sweet, and maybe just a little bit whiny. He was still wearing his puppy covered sleep pants and a matching shirt that read 'love me' that was hanging of one side from being over sized.  "I know you have a lot of questions..."

"You're right I do. Starting with why you told my best friend you're my soulmate..." And with that one line his courage was zapped because Myungjun was looking at him with those big brown eyes that put any puppy to shame. His hair was tousled from sleep and he was looking more delectable than Jinwoo recalled anyone looking in his living memory. Things were clicking into place again and it was scary. And very promising if the curve of the dark haired brunette's visible shoulder was anything to go by.

The loud sigh the dark haired brunette let out was a bit heavy for the way he had been talking earlier. "It might be best if you sit down. I know you'll take this with a grain of salt... I don't really blame you but the pieces will fall into place soon enough. I don't really like talking about this but since it's you..." Myungjun paused that look over taking his face again, a look Jinwoo was slowly starting to live for. 

He could tell that Myungjun was indeed going to wait until he sat down so he took a seat across the small table from him. If he reached across he would be able to brush their finger tips together. He had to resist the urge to do so. "Okay I'm listening..." He had the feeling whatever he had to say was going to be more believable than Minhyuk's theory.

"To start I guess we need to go way back to when you started sleep walking...It was kinda my fault..." Myungjun had the decency to look ashamed. "I'm a dream walker, I wasn't very skilled when I started out and being the romantic that I am  I waltzed into the dreams of my destined one." The pink dusting his cheeks was distracting but not more than the drumming of his fingers against the textbook. "I didn't realize that entering your dreams I would cause you to chase after me in your sleep. It wasn't until I was older, more versed in the craft in I was born into that I..." Myungjun paused looking over his face, probably understanding that he might need to slow down to let him take it all in. 

"Ok...wait...hold up..." Jinwoo held up a hand processing the information as he spoke slowly in reply. "Are you saying," He shook his head as he spoke the idea clicking somewhere in his mind where logic failed to tread but was still right anyway. "that you entered my dreams, and because of that I've been chasing after you in my dreams? And sleep walking to try to find you?"

Myungjun nodded slowly before speaking again his face turned away and the pout on his pink lips adorable. "Of course I can enter anyone's dreams but only my soulmate would notice me in their dreams. I hadn't expected to find you so quickly honestly. It's not easy to find your soulmate's physical location even though you can enter their dreams. I was a little young back then... I'm sorry." His eyes were watery and something in the blond had him reaching out to brush his finger tips over the others.

"This still doesn't make a lot of sense...Like what's a dream walker? Were you born like that?" Jinwoo cringed at how rude he sounded but his fingers wouldn't disengage from where they were tangling with the dark brunette's. "You were right that things are adding up though... I would often find myself in places I had never been. All the doctors insisted I must have passed them by because is it unheard of for a sleep walker to go somewhere new."

"You were chasing me...You only slept walk when I was nearby but I didn't know that. I'm sorry I've caused you trouble without knowing anything. The most recent bout was so I could pin point your location." His brown eyes were heavy with feelings and Jinwoo felt like maybe he was the one being foolish all along. "I know it's hard to believe. I'm sorry for um..." The blush on his face was darker than it had been so far. "Well not everything in your dreams is a dream. I can't always control where your dreams take us." 

"Do you mean..." It was Jinwoo's turn to blush his face heating up at the thought that Myungjun wasn't the one leading into their heated make outs, that it was him. "I'm sorry..."

"No you don't have anything to be sorry for." Tan fingers were squeezing his own comfortingly. "If anything it was my desires that fueled it...You're so handsome Jinjin, have always been so handsome..." He paused again letting his fingers untangle and pulling himself back into a ball. "I know this is a lot to take in so I'll wait here for your answer."

It took him a moment to realize this was his queue to leave if he wanted to. His chance to escape if he wanted to. To take it all in for the hours it normally took him to come to a very definite decision. As he got up he saw the brunette's face falter as he headed towards the door, but he couldn't do it. He couldn't walk away nothing made sense right now. Everything felt like a dream he was going to wake up from in his bed. Hard and lonely, and knowing that Myungjun was the one he wanted most. When he moved away from the door and towards the other male he saw his face light up with hope. Hope he wasn't willing to dash, he settled himself on his heels in front of the other studying his face, he didn't move. 

"This isn't an answer...but if this is a dream I'm going to wake up from anyway..." Jinwoo didn't hesitate pulling Myungjun's face closer by his chin placing a chaste kiss against his lips. They were slightly chapped like they had been in his dream last night and so solid, they had felt that way then too. Though they hadn't been against his own, he'd been wanting to taste them since the first dream. He tasted like cinnamon and something sweet, a flavor that left him chasing it on his lips with his tongue when he pulled back. He stared into dark brown eyes that were mere inches from his own. He closed his eyes again pressing his lips a little more heatedly against the plump pink ones of his soulmate. Things were still a mess and nothing was resolved but it felt like home. 

By the time Myungjun came to his senses in the second kiss Jinwoo had already worked his way onto the other's lap filling the small gap between him and table with his body. It was when the blonde pulled back he was finally able to express that this might not be a good idea. It fell on deaf ears though as the blonde only smothered his attempts at protest with kisses. 

The moan that escaped his lips when he felt Myungjun's warm hands on his sides was enough to cement the idea that they definitely knew what they were doing in his mind. He could feel them lingering along his spine even through his thin shirt, he was already working Myungjun's to the side to kiss his shoulder and collar bone. The rest of him tasted just as sweet as his lips he decided sliding his tongue along the soft flesh. Between them he could feel the heat growing the in same way it did in his dreams. Yet this was better, it was more.

"Jinjin..." Myungjun's moans were beginning to fill the room followed by small panting breaths that were filling the space between them. "I..." He was cut off by lips being pressed into his again because whatever he was trying to say Jinwoo didn't want to heart it. 

"We can talk about it later Myungjun I want to feel you inside me right now like you've been teasing me with in my dreams." Jinwoo wasn't sure when the decision had been made but he wasn't one to question it. Never before had he wanted someone else so bad

[adrenalineguide]

Palisade and Venue: Hyundai’s got you covered no matter what size you need

Text and Photos By Michael Hozjan

You’ve got to hand it to Hyundai, just months after launching their largest SUV to date, the three–row Palisade, they bring us their smallest, the Venue. Both of which I’m sure will be a hit with many a household. 

Hyundai Palisade: Getting it right the first time

The Palisade shares the same platform with its corporate cousin, Kia’s Telluride. With giddy up coming from the same transversely mounted 3.8L, 291-hp V6 producing 262 lb-ft of torque mated to an eight-speed automatic transmission riding on the same suspension and brakes. See Kia Telluride: More Bang for the Buck further down this page.

Prices for the Palisade start at $38,826.20 for the front-wheel-drive Essential trim and climb to just over 51 grand for the top of the line Ultimate trim. In between you’ve got the $45,699 all-wheel-drive Preferred (Hyundai needs to get more creative with their trim names) and the $50,399 Luxury, which as the name implies gets leather seating, a 10.25” touch screen and surround view and blind spot monitor.

Even the base Palisade gets you heated seats, heated steering wheel and reclining second row seats – competition take note. As well you get trailer sway control, vehicle stability management. Hyundai’s HTRAC all-wheel-drive system, along with multi terrain control modes is a $2,000 option on the Essential if you don’t want or need to step up to the Preferred which adds 20” wheels, auto-leveling rear suspension, three-zone climate control and the usual safety features; blind spot collision avoidance, rear cross traffic collision avoidance and safe exit assist. As mentioned earlier the Luxury will get you into cowhide seating, a 10.25” touch screen and surround view monitor.

My tester, the top tier Ultimate trim featured Nappa leather, heads-up display, a good looking 12.3”digital cluster (not available on the Kia) that spanned half the dash and didn’t look like an after thought add on, a chrome grill and fancier 20” wheels set the Ultimate apart from the lesser models.

On The Road

I can’t really pin point what it was but my ride in the Palisade was a lot more enjoyable than in the Kia. The Hyundai is a lot easier to toss into a corner, the electrically assisted steering feels precise and light, but dial in Sport mode, and it becomes better weighted, making twisties that much more fun. For a bulky vehicle, body roll is well controlled and in par or superior to others in the segment. Yet for all the sportiness that the large Palisade offers it still provided a comfortable ride when the local dirt roads turned into washboards.

The V6 is vibration free delivering smooth power throughout the rev range and though I did find it a tad louder than the Kia when I shut off the sat radio, the greenhouse is still very quite when compared to lesser seven and eight seaters. Push the go pedal up past the five grand mark and the V6 becomes a different animal growling through the gears as the torque kicks in and revs grow.

Towing capacity is 5000 pounds when properly equipped.

The Greenhouse

All too many SUVs are plagued with bland, hard plastic interiors. Happily the Palisade is not one of them. The airy cabin is comes dressed in a faux-suede headliner and premium leather with quilted door panels that give it a touch of luxury.

Seven USB ports should keep everyone happy.

 My seven passenger Ultimate came with ventilated second row seats, in car intercom so you can talk to third row occupants without raising your voice.

There’s 86 cu.ft. of cargo room behind the front seats. With four passengers and the third row folded you still get 46 cubes. Add more passengers into the third row and the volume shrinks to a modest 18 cubic feet, three less than the Kia because the Hyundai has power folding seats. There’s an additional cubbyhole underneath the load floor. I liked the floating center console that offered additional stowage underneath. Perfect for keeping your camera nearby when the seats are full.

Cargo volume behind the front seats is 86 cubic feet, which fit 33 carry-on suitcases in our testing. With the second row in the upright position and the third row folded, there is 46 cubic feet. Store the third row and the volume shrinks to a modest 18 cubes. Underneath the load floor, there is plenty of room to store muddy or wet items. The cubbies in the doors are tight, but there is reasonable storage within and below the floating-bridge center console.

Conclusion

You can’t review the Palisade without comparing it to the Telluride and the two are so closely matched that the final choice will more often than not be down to personal tastes on styling.  The Kia has a classic front end that would be right at home when stepping out to the opera, but the Hyundai’s shark mouthed front end gives the truck a more aggressive appearance. The rear end however is a different story, at least in my eyes.  I found the Kia’s butt busy and the Palisade cleanly executed. Both incidentally have real twin exhaust tips unlike some fakes you’ll find elsewhere.

At test’s end I found the Palisade hard to surrender. It was there in an impromptu stop to pick up an end table and coffee table for a project, and during a particularly foggy day I appreciated the seating height and large glass to see out.  Oh and for those who think that seven and eight seat SUVs suck a lot of gas, think again. During my weeklong test it only drank 9.5L/100kms of the good stuff.

Price as tested: $56,923*

*Includes Delivery and Destination Fees

Hyundai Venue: GREAT things come in small packages 

There’s been a slew of cutesy subcompact crossovers flooding the market and going after consumer dollars over the last couple of years.  Thankfully Hyundai’s latest creation, the Venue, breaks tradition. Yes it’s targeted at Millennials – what vehicle isn’t these days?  But unlike other crossovers the Venue is more butch looking than cutesy and it’s also only available in front wheel drive.

I got lucky and procured mine during a snowstorm, as evidenced by the opening photo, and it never stopped snowing during the entire week.  The Venue proved, or rather reminded me of several things, you don’t need all-wheel or four-wheel-drive to get around in the snow and you don’t need gobs of horsepower.  How did we all survive back in the day when 4x4s were for the military and your local service station plow? What the Venue did have was a set if fabulous winter tires to help it, but more on that later.

The Venue represents Hyundai’s fifth vehicle in the lucrative SUV/crossover market. It joins the Kona, Tucson, Santa Fe and Palisade making the Hyundai showroom a one stop shopping experience for all your crossover needs. At 4,040mm (159 inches) long, the Venue is shorter than its closest competitors, by 255mm (10 inches) against the pricier Nissan Kicks and 125 mm (4.95 inches) shorter than corporate sibling the Kona.

There’s a bit of give and take here, what you gain in parking space and around town maneuverability you loose in trunk space. If there is a downside to the Venue, it’s just that, the lack of cargo room behind the rears seats, a mere 18.7 cubic feet. Good news is that with the rear bench folded almost flat, it expands to 31.9 cubic feet is nearly the same as the Nissan. Unlike the Kicks, the design does allow for taller items, so again some give and take.

Egress and ingress are excellent. At six feet, I never felt crammed, even with my winter layers on. The front buckets are soft and comfortable but the rear bench is on the tight side for someone with my stature. Still I’ve seen worse. 

Unlike its swooped back competition, the boxy design gives great forward, lateral and rear visibility. Though the thick C-pillars do slightly hamper parallel parking. Yes I still look out the back and don’t use the cameras most of the time.

Four trim levels make up the Venue line up with prices staring at $17,099 for the six-speed manual tranny equipped Essential. The CVT automatic is a $1,300 option.  Entry level once meant you got a steering wheel, seats and an engine. Not any more, even the Essential comes with Bluetooth connectivity, 8” touch screen, HD/AM/FM/MP3 audio system, remote keyless entry, heated front seats, heated power side mirrors and front and rear skid plates.

The grab handle in the rear hatch ( above) may not seem like a big deal but when pricier trucks have you grasping at the outside of salt laden hatches it makes all the difference.

The Preferred adds blind spot collision and rears cross traffic warning along with lane change warning. The Trend includes a power sunroof, 17” alloys and cloth seating, drive mode selector, rear view camera, downhill brake control, remote start, heated steering wheel, LED headlights with cornering lighting My tester, the Ultimate added more driving aides, nav with MapCare support, 4-wheel disc brakes and a chrome grille.

SE Manual: $17,099

Preferred:   $21,499

Trend:         $22,599

Ultimate:     $24,899

I’m going to use the Venue’s formula and make my assessment this short and sweet and in plain simple terms. I love this thing. It does everything it’s supposed to do, take you from point A to point B comfortably, with as little effort as possible without emptying your wallet. Critics will balk at the plastic interior trim. What do you expect for under twenty grand? Hell there’s acres of plastic trim on vehicles costing two and three times as much.

 There’s a good balance between ride and handling and driving on country roads with multiple successive bumps, it feels planted and not at all jittery and for a vehicle with its dimensions, it doesn’t exhibit an overabundance of body roll either.

 The normally aspirated double overhead cam 1.6L inline four pumps out 121 horses and 113 lb.-ft. of torque. Simply put that is all you will need. Whether passing semis on the highway, plowing through half a foot of snow while climbing several grades I never felt under powered.  

Oh and did I say how easy the controls are to use! Thank you Hyundai.

I could easily see the Venue in my driveway if it had just a tad more cargo room for my business and farm needs. Sadly you can’t mix and match options these days the way you used to. My perfect Venue would have the 6-speed manual transmission with the heated steering wheel from the Trend and the Ultimate’s four-wheel disc brakes.

I suspect for most buyers there’s more than enough room behind the second row for your groceries and I know that the Venue will appeal not only to Millennial hipsters but also to older drivers who want a no nonsense vehicle that’s easy to drive, get in and out of and easy on the pocket book.

Winter tires:

As mentioned earlier, my snowy week with the Venue’s couldn’t have been as enjoyable were it not for the Pirelli Cinturato Winter tires. As you can imagine I come across a multitude of tire brands and models on all types of vehicles and with prices to match. Having a pricey tire no matter what the brand doesn’t assure you great performance. A tire that is good in the snow might fail miserably on ice and the other way around. Likewise in slushy conditions, dry roads and mix and match. Tire size is also a big factor with most cars/trucks wearing the wrong size winter boots.

 One of the most difficult areas to get even braking is on hard packed snow, you know the kind that’s still snow before it turns to ice. The Pirelli proved itself in uphill acceleration and downhill braking. I also had the chance to do a panic stop with my passenger tire on ice and the driver’s side on dry pavement, again, flawless. Climbing my driveway with six inches of snow, no sweat. The Cinturato proved itself time and time again to be worthy winter ally. You will want to equip your Venue with these tires.

[riannagalvez]

Hello, dolls!! Hello, weekend! ❤ Less than 3 months left and I will be on my way to the Philippines…with my kids! Am I worried about the flight? A little I would say. Some of you might think I am being too facile about this, but after traveling 36 hours with little A when he was 6 months old, I feel optimistic about our upcoming trip with baby C! Traveling with a baby is A LOT of work and exhausting — if you hate packing, you will hate it even more once you have kids! Luckily, I enjoy packing so this does not bother me at all.

Anyway, A and I have been traveling internationally with little A since he was 6 months old. Believe me, when I say, I will do it over and over again because the flight does not bother me. Maybe I am lucky that my little one is a good traveler or the fact I prepare for our trip like it’s the armageddon.

Get Baby’s Passport Done (and visas ready if necessary).

Before you book anything, make sure you have your baby’s passport in hand. This is a common mistake that most travelers tend to overlook. Not only is the agony of waiting very stressful, but it is best to avoid any rebooking fees.

I was guilty of this last year when we went to London. I did not anticipate that my visa would be delayed. I literally got it 24 hours before our trip and I remember being so stressed all week!

2. Toy Story

Entertainment for kids is important when traveling. They get bored easily and it almost feels like their energy never runs out. It would be helpful to have their favorite toys in your carry on for whenever they need them. I know “every toy” is their favorite, so pick the ones that are not too heavy and bulky to have room for other things that are more important.

3. Baby Gear

If you think lugging along 2 big suitcases is hard, imagine how overwhelming it is to travel with a car seat and stroller. Consider checking in your stroller and car seat at the gate. You might be the annoying parent at the security line because of all the stuff you have to put on the belt but to me, it’s all worth it! I like to use our stroller as my bag helper. Instead of carrying at least three bags (diaper, cooler bag for milk, and my personal bag) I have a durable bag hook that I use so it will be easier for me to go around the airport without hurting my shoulders! 😛

Car seats are also important when traveling with a baby. It is best to know about your destination’s law about car seats to know what you have to prepare for prior to your flight. You might also want to look into renting a car seat when you arrive at your destination if that would make the flight easier for you and your baby.

Another piece of baby gear that I’ve seen from other parents when traveling is a baby carrier. Though this is something that A and I don’t use when we go on a flight with little A, I believe that it’s very helpful! In fact, my sister did that when she traveled from the US to the Philippines with my niece earlier this year. It’s probably best for infants since they feel comfortable being held most of the time.

4. Bring Extra Outfits

Spit ups and poop throughs are no fun and unfortunately, it’s pretty inevitable with a baby. Having an extra outfit with you in case this happens will be very helpful. I like to put in our carry on bag so it’s accessible.

As much as I love dressing up my babies, the best extra outfit to pack for your flight is a footsie pj! It’s easy to put on/take off and keeps baby warm since it can get pretty cold once you’re up in the air. Call me crazy but I had three extra outfits for little A when we went to the Philippines. One outfit for every stop! It may be over the top but I am the kind of Mom who says “just in case” (a lot) when packing.

5. Layover- Prepare for the next flight

I know, I know! You just got off the plane and all you want to do is to take a breather. But rushing yourself the last minute is just as bad as sitting next to a snorer. Before I wander around the airport, I try to do little things like moving things to our main carry on bag. If we used an extra outfit or used a bottle for feeding, I transfer it to another bag that we do not intend to open during the flight to avoid clutter.

This is the best time to change baby’s diaper. Restroom cubicles on the plane are really tight and gross if I am being honest. If you are lucky, you wouldn’t have to deal with that with your baby. There’s more space in family restrooms at the airport..and much cleaner too!

Tip: To save time, go to the service center and ask all of the spots you intend to go to at the airport. Most of the time, family/nursing rooms are in certain areas only.

6. Layover – Start Your Food Adventure

If you have enough time to go around before your next flight, do it! A lot of airports now have exciting things to see or try. One of my favorite airports is Changi Airport. I’ve been to Singapore multiple times so when I saw our layover will be there, I got really excited!

Our vacation starts at the airport! I am the kind of traveler who gets satisfaction being at the airport. I like to go around and eat! If I know I have 15 minutes to spare before check-in, I will be somewhere buying food!

Singapore Milk Tea

Laksa

A must when going to Singapore!! Creamy broth with seafood and thick noodles. YUM!

Hainanese Chicken

Another must when in Singapore. The soft texture of the chicken steamed to perfection gives me nostalgia of eating lunch at hawkers with my family.

Anyway, this motivated A to go to Changi Airport’s food court. One of the best airport food courts in the world 😛 I love how we did not have to leave the airport to try authentic Singaporean food!

Roasted Duck Breast

German Weiner at Frankfurt airport. As much as possible I prefer nonstop flights, but if the layover is somewhere with delicious food to try, I wouldn’t mind!

Chocolates from Germany!

Remind yourself that this trip is not about being your baby’s personal assistant. Think about yourself too and do little things that would make you happy with the time that you have.

6. Have A Positive Attitude 

Don’t let the exhaustion and anxiety take over. Having a positive attitude will help you stay focused on having a pleasant trip with your baby. Remember, your baby can feel when you are stressed so try not to overthink what could go wrong.

Just think about the free perks when traveling with your baby! Like early boarding and being able to bring bottled water in the airport 😛

…and know it’s okay to unwind!

7. Pack Snacks

Babies get tired and hungry too! How they are going to be while traveling is pretty unpredictable so it is best to have something in your carry on bag they can munch on. Most airlines give free baby food which is awesome! These are some of the baby food Singapore Airlines gave us during our flight from New York to Manila.

Snack alert for parents: FITCRUNCH Cheddar Cheese High Protein Puffs

I am all about healthy snacks! I tend to feel guilty when we travel because I end up buying unhealthy snacks. Traveling with Little A inspired me to find better options for us and luckily, FITCRUNCH is now on the market! I love how FITCRUNCH is made with simple ingredients. Each pack is filled with a good amount of crunchy puffs and it doesn’t take up too much space in my bag. WIN!

8. Breastfeeding When Traveling

I exclusively pump so packing my breastfeeding supplies was another task in itself. Since I wasn’t sure if I would have an outlet for my pump I decided to bring my manual pump with me — which Mommas who pump would understand is a lot of work. I was also concerned that my electric breast pump would be too loud for the other passengers so it wasn’t really an option for me to use during the flight.

The first thing you have to think about when pumping multiple times during your travel is sanitation. How do you keep everything safe from bacteria? Since I knew I might not have enough time to wash all of the parts of my breast pump, I decided to bring extras. I counted how many times I would have to pump during my flight. If you think you will have time (and you trust the water on the plane — go for it and bring a small bottle of bottle soap with you).

9. Breastmilk

To me, this was the most important item on my packing list. I wasn’t sure if I would be able to supply enough milk during our trip so I wanted to bring some of my frozen milk in case Little A would need them.

Before you start grabbing your breastmilk, understand that there are risks when doing so. The main one is going through security. It is best to call all of the airports that will involve security checks in your itinerary and ask about their regulations about hand-carrying breastmilk. Some airports are very strict about this and I read horror stories from other Moms about security asking them to dump their breastmilk. When we flew out of New York, the security asked me to open a bag of breastmilk for them to check. It added at least 20 minutes to our pre-boarding process. So if you plan to travel with breastmilk, be there early! NOT 2 hours before your flight. I think it also helped that Little A was with me so they did not really ask a lot of questions.

Packing your breastmilk is crucial too. You do not want to risk the temperature to go down and force you to dump your liquid gold. I had a large traveling cooler bag from Ameda which was very helpful! I put freezer packs on every side (including top and bottom) to make sure Little A’s breastmilk would stay cold. We traveled for 36 hours and this method actually worked great! My breastmilk was still a little frozen when we arrived in Manila.

If you ever need to warm up a bottle of milk for your little one, ask for a cup of hot/warm water from your flight attendant.

10. The Little Things

Comfort is number one for me! Although it leads me to overpack most of the time, I make sure I have everything to make me and my family comfortable when traveling.

It is helpful to bring some of these items… “just in case” (in a travel size of course!)

Dish/bottle soap – for baby’s bottles, medicine for the baby like Tylenol, body wash if you plan to clean baby, and lots of patience! 😛

11. Baby Cot

One of the most convenient ways to travel with a baby is to reserve a baby cot. Not all airlines offer this so when I was booking our flight to Manila, this was one of the things I looked for.

Not only did it help A and I to feel comfortable during our long flight, Little A snoozed like he was in his crib! He had his own space where he was able to stretch and lay on his back. Our arms did not hurt from holding him for long hours or being in an awkward position.

12. Make Friends

Most of us know traveling with a baby is a nightmare for some passengers. I might just be really blessed with a good baby because Little A did not give us a hard time during our long travel to the Philippines. Prior to our flight, I planned to make an effort to talk to the person who will be sitting next to us and introduce Little A to make sure they are aware of how the flight is going to be with a baby next to them. It will also give them a chance to switch seats if they wish to.

During our flight to the Philippines, we were lucky to be seated next to an older lady who loved playing with Little A! She even offered to hold him while I was busy pumping and A was asleep.

After that trip, I realized that I should not worry about what other passengers might think. What’s important is the safety and comfort of my family. People can always adjust!

13. How To Avoid Crying

One of the best tricks I learned when traveling with a baby is to let them suck during take-off and landing. It helps their ears from the pressure and soothes them to sleep. Ever wonder why a lot of babies cry during this time? They are in pain, and it makes me feel bad whenever I hear that when traveling.

My favorite travel buddy ❤

xx

R ❤

How To Survive Long Haul Flights With A Baby Hello, dolls!! Hello, weekend! ❤ Less than 3 months left and I will be on my way to the Philippines...with my kids!

[lacepaint08-blog]

Traveling with a Toddler: Travel Beds, Packing List, & Tips!

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Traveling with a toddler? Here are tips on traveling to Europe with toddlers, including toddler travel beds, packing lists, plane activities, and more! Affiliate links are included below.

When Alex and I decided to take our toddler son Larson on vacation to Europe, some people thought we were crazy! Heck, we felt like we were crazy. But with the guidance of friends who had traveled to Europe with toddlers, we were assured that yes, we could actually do it. As a friend of ours always says, traveling with kids is an adventure, not a vacation! A few days in and it actually did start to feel like a vacation! Incredible food, clear blue Mediterranean waters, and ancient ruins combined to make the most memorable adventure. Since we’ve returned, we’ve had many people ask, what are your tips for traveling with a toddler? Good news: we’ve got you covered! Here are all our secrets for the best toddler travel bed, plane activities, and more! For our full toddler packing list, skip to the very end.

Related: Travel Capsule Wardrobe: What to Pack for a Trip to Europe, How to Take Better Vacation Pictures

Our toddler travel bed fit right into half of this suitcase!

Did you use a toddler travel bed?

Yes, we did use a toddler travel bed! In fact, bringing a travel crib for a toddler is one of our top tips for traveling with toddlers! Since Larson was 17 months for our trip, we still did not feel comfortable with him sleeping on a cot or bed. Most of the places we stayed, all of them Airbnbs, were not equipped for toddler sleeping situations. But even more importantly, sleeping in the same toddler travel bed every night was crucial to Larson adapting to the travel. We stayed in many different cities, but each night at the end of the night Larson had the same bed! So by the third night of our three weeks, he was totally adjusted to that travel crib.

What toddler travel bed did we use? This Baby Bjorn Travel Crib Light. We actually bought ours used on Craigslist, which was a steal! We cannot recommend this crib enough: it’s super light, easy to assemble, and fits into half of a large suitcase. The luggage we used was this Samsonite Winfield 2 Hardside 28″ Luggage. It fit right into one side of the suitcase, which left the other half for Larson’s and our clothes and other items. The only other luggage we brought was this Samsonite Winfield 2 Hardside 24″ Luggage and it fit everything we needed for 3 weeks! I could even assemble the Baby Bjorn travel crib all by myself, which is saying something (I’m terrible even at putting together Pack N Plays!).

Larson’s car seat, complete with travel bag

What about a toddler car seat for travel?

Good question! We used Larson’s normal car seat, which is lightweight. The toddler car seat we have is the Evenflo Tribute LX. How it works when flying: you’re not charged extra for having a car seat with you. Make sure to buy a travel bag for the car seat; here’s our carseat bag. When you get to the gate, the flight attendant will provide separate checking tags for the car seat in the bag. Many times you’ll be able to bring it up to the gate and then they’ll check it there. In some countries, the airport had a special place for “bulky luggage” where we had to take it (the flight attendant will instruct you). In both cases, we typically picked up the car seat with our luggage on the luggage carousel.

Do taxis, Ubers, and car services takes toddlers with car seats? All of the Ubers and taxis that we used did take toddlers with car seats! It’s possible that some might not, so make sure to be up front about it when you order. One tip: Since many cars have a latch system for car seats and you may not have secured the car seat with a seatbelt before. Before you travel, make sure to practice putting in the car seat with a seatbelt if you’ve never done it!

For long trips we used our baby carrier, but for strolling we let him run! (Tellaro, Italy)

Did you bring a travel stroller or baby carrier?

For this trip, we ditched the stroller and decided to bring only a baby carrier! Our reasoning: streets in Europe can be rather bumpy and hard to navigate. Also, we didn’t want to have to worry about lugging a stroller around and storing it when we stopped at restaurants. For Alex and me, we preferred the free feeling of just using a baby carrier. Larson falls asleep easily in public in the baby carrier, but not as much in the stroller. However, there are some drawbacks of a baby carrier: it did get rather hot, especially in the summer! Carrying around 20 pounds for a while left huge sweat spots on the back of our shirts. Also, you can’t do anything sitting down when you have a sleeping toddler on your back! It was perfect for hiking and walking through museums with a sleeping toddler, but not so much for going to restaurants.

What baby carrier did we use? This LILLEbaby 3 in 1 CarryOn Toddler Carrier. Like our toddler travel bed, we cannot say enough about this baby carrier! It’s super comfortable and carries up to 60 pounds.

Do babies and toddlers under age 2 fly free overseas?

As you may know, babies and toddlers fly free in the United States if they’re under 2 years old. Score! For overseas travel, we assumed it was the same. Ooops! For overseas travel, the cost of babies and toddlers is up to the airline. On Delta (which we used), it cost 10% of the cost of an adult ticket for a lap child.

Don’t forget to pack swim diapers! (Tellaro, Italy)

Did you reserve a bassinet for flying overseas?

For overseas travel, most airlines have a baby bassinet in the bulkhead seats to give babies a place to sleep. A lot of people suggested this to us, but in the end we decided not to. By 17 months, Larson is pretty picky about where he sleeps, so weren’t sure he’d be into it. You do have to pay an upcharge to reserve the bulkhead seats (around $100), so we decided to have Larson “sleep” with us. Once we got on the plane and checked out the bassinet situation, we were glad we went this direction. However, we do recommend this tip if you’re flying with a baby! If Larson were less than 1 year old, this would have been a perfect solution.

Walking the streets of Rome!

How do you get babies or toddlers to sleep on a plane?

This is a topic of great debate. Many people swear by using Benadryl or melatonin to help toddlers sleep on planes. We weren’t sure what to think, so we asked Alex’s brother, who is a doctor. He cautioned that having a toddler take a drug on a plane for the first time was risky, since Larson had never taken either before. He also mentioned that Benadryl can make babies and toddlers drowsy, which can make it harder to adjust to a new time zone. So, we took the conservative approach to sleeping and did no medications.

So, did Larson sleep on the plane? Yes. Did he sleep as much as we hoped? No. Because Larson was 17 months old for the overseas flight, he was much more aware of his surroundings than on past flights when he was younger. Instead of sleeping, he wanted to explore the plane and chat with other passengers! When the cabin lights darkened for sleeping time, we put on his PJs, gave him the blanket and dog, and even turned on his sound machine at low volume. We tried putting him in our baby carrier hoping the security of the carrier would lull him to sleep. Unfortunately, it was a pretty rough transition because he just wanted to keep exploring!

Eventually, Larson slept about 3 hours of the 9 hour flight overseas. The up side to only sleeping 3 hours was that once we got to Italy, we had a full day and did naps as normal. Once it got to his bedtime, he was SO tired that he slept the entire night! And we did too. The next day, we were all on Italian time. So it actually worked in our favor!

Larson was enthralled by all the dogs and cats (Sibenik, Croatia)

Do you have toddler plane activities or plane toys for toddlers?

Yes! Here are some tips for toddler plane activities / plane toys that we found went over well:

Bring these National Geographic sticker books! They’re less than $7 each and hours of entertainment! Each book has over 1,000 stickers and literally endlessly entertained Larson. They’re also light and easy to pack. There are various different animal themes: we got 4 books and gradually gave him new ones to keep the novelty factor. We cannot recommend these enough for toddlers 16 months and above! Though we did end up with stickers all over us, it was worth it!

Use small snacks as an activity. Eating raisins or Cheerios can last for quite a long time!

Play hide and seek with a small object. Use a toy car or small animal to play hide and seek. We actually use a sunglasses case to “hide” things; it has a zipper that keeps him busy trying to open it. However, you can do this with just a toy too!

Use flashcard or drawing apps on your Smartphone or tablet. We used a few flashcard apps on our phone (we like one called First Animals). Larson loved swiping and hearing the animal sounds.

Read search and find books. Larson loves finding objects in books — and it was on a plane that we actually discovered he knew way more words than we realized! If your toddler gets bored, the airplane magazines in the seat pocket can be good too! We spent hours saying, “Where’s the man? Where’s the tree? Where’s the airplane” and having Larson point to the words.

Don’t bring too much! It’s easy to overpack, so we tried to bring just enough: sticker books, tablet, a few books, and a few small toys.

A meringue the size of his head! (Cartagena, Spain)

What toddler travel snacks did you bring?

The hard part about toddler travel snacks when you’re traveling for 3 weeks is that you have to buy many of them on the road! Here is what we tended to have onhand for travel snacks:

Larabars or energy bars: Larson loves them and they’re made with real food and minimally processed

Yogurt pouches: frozen for travel (this only works on the front end!)

Raisins

Cheerios

Bananas

Blueberries

Crackers / breadsticks

Also, Larson drinks quite a bit of milk. We brought along these Stainless steel cups and Silicone sippy lids, which were perfect for his milk. We bought new milk in each location.

A quick change at a rest stop (somewhere in Slovenia?)

Did you bring a diaper bag?

For this trip, we decided that we’d prefer not carrying a separate diaper bag in addition to our camera bag and my purse. So, we got a combination camera bag and backpack that we used as a diaper bag. This way, we didn’t have to lug along a fully separate diaper bag. This is of course up to your personal preference, but we enjoyed not having to keep track of yet another bag!

What combination camera / diaper bag did we use? The Minimalist from Atlas Supply. In everyday life, it functions as Alex’s camera bag.

How many diapers did you bring?

The hard part about traveling with a toddler is that so much of your luggage is taken up by diapers! For our 3 week trip to Europe, we brought enough diapers for about 2 weeks. This did take up quite a bit of space in our luggage! Looking back however, we recommend bringing enough diapers for about 1 week. Diapers and wipes were very easy to find in grocery stores in Italy, Croatia, and Spain, so we could have packed less than we did.

Even Larson was awed by the Sagrada Familia (Barcelona, Spain)

How do you help a toddler adjust to jet lag?

Good question! Luckily Larson adjusted very quickly to the new time zone, but of course it’s dependent on the toddler! As I mentioned above, Larson only slept 3 hours of the 9 hour flight overseas. This meant that when we arrived in the morning in Italy, he was running on pretty low sleep. We did naps as normal, and then put him to bed at his normal time of 7:00 pm. Because he was so tired, he ended up sleeping the entire night! This seemed to immediately adjust him to Italian time. Larson did wake up a few times crying early on in the evening the first 2 days in Italy, which we think was likely because he was adjusting to the new space. However, after a few days he got used to sleeping in the same travel crib every night and slept soundly.

On the way home, Larson slept about the same amount of time on the flight. However, since we returned home in the evening EST, he was then able to go to bed and sleep through the night since he was so tired again. On the returning side, it took several days for him to adjust back to EST, but he was never up in the middle of the night, lucky for us!

Exploring the streets of Frigiliana, Spain

What are the best toddler travel shoes?

For travelling for toddlers in the summer, we love these Toms canvas shoes. We got them in dark gray so they would hide the dirt, and they’ve held up very well! We also brought a backup pair just in case of an accident, but he didn’t end up needing them.

Speaking of backups: we suggest always taking a backup outfit with you in your diaper bag. There was one incident of car sickness and we only had one backup pair of shorts — so Larson ended up having to spend one day in a not so pleasant shirt. Our mistake!

Larson’s trusty Toms in action at La Alhambra (Granada, Spain)

How did you handle naps on vacation?

A big question we got around traveling with a toddler was schedule: how did you handle naps on vacation? On our trip to Europe (and today!), Larson takes one 2 to 3 hour nap in the middle of the day. So on vacation, we did the same thing! And Alex and I found we actually really loved being forced to take a siesta in the middle of the day. During nap time, Alex and I would have downtime and read, catch up on a little work or emails, and relax. It also kept us out of the hot midday sun. Then when Larson was awake, we’d go out adventuring again in the afternoon. Fun fact: This schedule also helps you take better pictures!

Golden hour = almost bedtime (Tellaro, Italy)

What was your bedtime routine?

One of the hard parts about traveling with a toddler is bedtime: once you put your toddler to bed, no more exploring for you! Rome with kids means no romantic pasta dinners for two, and Barcelona with kids has no room for midnight tapas. One of the ways that we worked around this when traveling is that in many of our destinations, we were traveling with other people. In Italy we were with Alex’s mom, brother, and sister in law, in Croatia we were with a dear friend and her husband, and in Barcelona we stayed with friends.  So, usually we were able to juggle having someone stay back with Larson, and the other person would have dinner companions. For 6 days we were by ourselves in Spain; for this timeframe we actually changed his bedtime to 9:00 pm so we could stay out later. Some nights we kept him up a little longer, other days we had a big midday meal and either cooked or had snacks at home.

For the bedtime routine, we tried to keep as many constants as possible. With our travel we had less time for bath time–but if we could, we’d try to do a bath or shower. Then we’d darken his room, turn on his sound machine (we have a great travel sound machine!), and put his dog and blanket in his bed. After reading a book, we’d put him in his toddler travel bed with his pacifier. By a few days into the trip, he went down very easily!

His adventurous spirit made it all worth it! (Cartagena, Spain)

Do you have a toddler packing list?

Yes! Here is our toddler packing list for 3 weeks in Europe in the summer, with links to the items mentioned above!

Travel

Evenflo Car seat

Car seat bag

LILLEbaby baby carrier

Samsonite Winfield 2 Hardside 28″ Luggage

Samsonite Winfield 2 Hardside 24″ Luggage 

Passport

Sleeping

Travel white noise sound machine 

Baby Bjorn Travel Crib

Lovies (he used a blanket and dog)

Pacifier

Hygiene

Baby bath soap

1 rubber ducky

Child nail clippers

Child Tylenol

Bandaids

Eating

Stainless steel cups and Silicone sippy lids

Water bottle

Snacks: Larabars

Paper towels

Toys

National Geographic sticker books

Search and Find Animal Friends book

2 or 3 other lightweight books

A handful of small toys

Tablet

Clothing (for a boy!): 

7 short sleeve shirts, 1 long sleeve (it was summer!)

1 full backup outfit for diaper bag

2 pants

3 shorts

2 pairs of these Toms

2 pajamas

Diapers

Handful of swim diapers

Swim suit

Want more packing lists? Here’s what I brought as my European Capsule Wardrobe.

About the Authors

Sonja Overhiser

Cookbook Author and writer

Sonja Overhiser is author and recipe developer of Pretty Simple Cooking, named one of the “best vegetarian cookbooks” by Epicurious, and a recipe developer and healthy & sustainable food advocate behind the award-nominated food blog A Couple Cooks.

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Alex Overhiser

Cookbook Author and photographer

Alex Overhiser is photographer and recipe developer of Pretty Simple Cooking, named one of the “best new cookbooks” by Bon Appetit, and a recipe developer, photographer, and technical expert at A Couple Cooks.

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We’re Sonja and Alex and we believe in Pretty Simple Cooking!

We’re a writer and photographer who love to cook. This website is a collection of the whole food vegetarian recipes we cook in our kitchen.

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Source: https://www.acouplecooks.com/traveling-with-toddler-travel-beds-packing-list-tips/

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Arplis - News: College Dorm Must Haves 2019

If you’re sending your child off to college this summer, then you’ll definitely want to know about dorm must haves 2019. These should be included on every list of things to bring to college, especially when living in a dorm. These could be included on a college dorm list for guys or college dorm must haves for girls. In fact, there is quite a bit of overlap for dorm must haves 2019 whether you’re sending a daughter or son back to college. I’ll admit that I’m a bit wistful in writing this article on what you need in a college dorm room. This will be the first summer in six years that I don’t have go shopping for a dorm room. It also means that for the time in six years I don’t have to move someone to college. As I wrote in the college graduation blog post from a few months ago, I’m done with the undergraduate school years with my daughters. Still I remember how helpless I felt the first time I had to go shopping for a dorm room. I wasn’t sure how to make head or tails of the college dorm room essentials checklist. I mean, what dorm must haves really are a must have, and what are just a waste of money. I learned a lot in those six years of moving my daughters to college. That’s why I wanted to write this blog post about dorm must haves 2019. This was what our car looked like moving our daughter to her college dorm her freshman year. Best places for college dorm shopping Before I get into the nitty gritty of a college dorm shopping list, you may be asking: what are the best place for college dorm shopping? In our six years of back to college shopping, we did most of our buying for a college dorm in two places: Amazon Target Why is Amazon on of the best places to college dorm shopping? One word–convenience. Target, on the other hand, might just be the best place to buy college bedding. Best place to buy college bedding In case you didn’t know, college dorm beds require extra long, twin sheets. Target carries a knit jersey version of extra long twin sheets that my daughters loved. In fact, my daughter kept using these jersey knit twin XL sheets after they moved out of the dorm and no longer needed the extra long. This tells you two things about why Target is one of the best places to shop for college bedding: Your college student will love the bedding so much that they’ll actually use it. The Target bedding holds up so well that when you buy a few sets for freshman year, you might not need to replace them until long after your student graduates. Important note about dorm room shopping sites An important note about places you might go for college dorm shopping. Do not, I repeat, do not shop off the store’s list. Yes, these store lists tend to include what a freshman needs to bring to college, to be sure. But these lists also tend to include “nice to haves” which might actually be banned in your child’s college dorm. For example, a slow cooker. Unless a slow cooker has a timer. chances are it is on the banned list. Slow cookers and other appliances overall might be banned. Don’t take any chances. Instead, have your child contact their college’s housing department and get the official college dorm shopping list from them. OK, now that I’ve got those caveats aside, let me explain how I put together this post on dorm must haves 2019. What I’ve included is based on my own experience sending two daughters to college as well as my years as a shopping expert. I also picked the brains of friends with sons in college. Because I wanted to ensure that any dorm must haves 2019 list I put together wasn’t daughter specific but also included what to bring to college for guys. College dorm must haves 2019 All together here are 35 college dorm needs for guys and girls. These are listed in no particular order so please be sure to read all the way through to the end. At some point I also break out dorm room bathroom supplies as well as other must haves on what to bring to college 1. Foam mattress topper Mattresses in a college dorm are likely the most uncomfortable things your child will ever sleep on. For starters they have a waterproof cover and they’re made from fire-resistant materials. To get a good night’s sleep, I would recommend investing in a foam mattress topper. Of all the stores we visited for college dorm shopping, we actually found the best twin XL mattress topper at Bed, Bath and Beyond. I’ll admit it was pricey but it really was a game changer for making a dorm bed feel like a bed from home. Also, order this bed topper online. Every time we visited a BB&B store in person, they were always out of stock. BB&B lets you buy something online and pick up in store. So you can arrange to visit one of their stores near where your child goes to college. This will help free up space in your car, to be sure. If you can’t order the bed topper and pick up in store, you can always get it from Amazon and have it shipped to your student at college. A foam mattress topper is a definite must have. They come in Twin XL to fit college dorm beds. 2. Twin extra long sheets As I mentioned earlier, dorm beds require twin extra long sheets. I’ve never been clear on why dorm beds are extra long, but here’s what it means. You cannot bring the sheets from your child’s bedroom to college. You must by new. I’ll put in another plug for Target’s jersey knit twin XL sheets. 3. Mattress and pillow covers Even though those college dorm mattresses come with a waterproof cover, you might feel better putting a bed bug resistant mattress cover or allergy resistant mattress cover on as well. This mattress encasement product from Sure Guard works to block both bed bugs and allergens. While you’re at it, getting the same kind of pillow covers from Sure Guard is added protection. My younger daughter is a germ- and bug-a-phobe. So having a mattress cover plus pillow covers that blocked bed bugs and allergens helped put her mind at ease and her to sleep at night. 4. Portable air purifier Chances are your son or daughter will be moving into a dorm without air conditioning. Buildings without air conditioning tend to be filled with allergens. We discovered this first-hand when my daughter Annie was a college freshman. As soon as we got her this Germ Guardian air purifier on Amazon, her allergy symptoms went away. We also stocked up on extra filters so she could continue to keep her air clear throughout the year. She continues to use this air purifier years later. You can get this air purifier in black or white. 5. Box fan Given the aforementioned lack of air conditioning in many college dormitories, an old fashioned boxed fan can go a long way towards cooling your kids down on hot nights. 6. Bed risers Storage space is tight in most dorm rooms. So to get extra areas for storage, we invested in bed risers for our girls’ dorm room beds. These lifted the beds off the floor just enough that we could slip stuff underneath. In one dorm room we were even able to get a small refrigerator under the bed. Some bed risers come with integrated USB ports and plugs. Notice how much room the bed risers gave my daughter underneath her freshman dorm room bed? 7. Underbed storage bins Sterilite makes great underbed storage bins. They slide right under a dorm bed and are great for storing off season clothes, extra schools supplies or whatever else your college freshman can’t fit into a closet, desk or dresser. 8. Twinkle lights I would put twinkle lights under the category of college dorm room decor as well as college girl dorm room ideas. Because, let’s face it–most dorm rooms are plain and ugly. Many have bright overhead fluorescent lights. If your daughters are like mine, they’re going to want to “soften” the look and the lighting with twinkle lights. These are the white or other colored string lights that you might put on a Christmas tree. 9. 3M Command strips and hooks Here’s another given with college dorm rooms. It’s nearly impossible to hang things on the wall. Either the walls are made of cinderblock, or you will be fined if you put nails into a wall. Your best bet for decorating a college dorm room is investing in 3M Command strips and hooks. 10. Lock box for personal items Things can go missing at college. Since college dorm rooms are not like hotel rooms, with built-in safes, it’s smart to get your student a lock box for personal items. A fireproof box with a key should do the trick. Since these boxes tend to be heavy and awkward, you minimize the chances that someone walks off with it. Our daughters used their SentrySafe boxes to keep personal items, including prescription medicine, locked away and safe. 11. Skinny hangers We’ve already established that space is at a premium in a college dorm room. In a dorm closet you don’t need bulky hangers taking up a bunch of space. I would recommend investing in the skinny “huggable” hangers that take up less room. I found an enormous multipack of Joy Mangano huggable handers in either purple (my daughter’s favorite color) or white on Amazon. 12. Clothes drying rack This is probably one of those dorm essentials for girls as I’ve never ever seen a guy use a clothes drying rack. Nonetheless, the dryers in college laundry rooms can be brutal on clothing. So any delicates are best dried on a clothes drying rack. You may think of a clothes drying rack as a dorm essentials for girls only, but guys could benefit from having one at college, too. 13. Laundry detergent pods There are no excuses for your college student not to do their laundry when you send them off with laundry detergent pods. Enough said. 14. Collapsible laundry basket or hamper Not only is a collapsible laundry basket or hamper lighter to carry but it takes up less space in a college dorm room. If it isn’t clear yet, any must haves you get for your son or daughter’s dorm should be those that are efficient with their use of space. 15. Keurig and K cup pods If your child loves coffee, investing in a small Keurig and a supply of K cup pods will be super helpful with caffeinating for early-morning classes and late-night studying. 16. Noise-canceling headphones Libraries on campus might be the most quiet place to study. But sometimes your student may want to stay in their college room to study. To block out noise, get them a pair of noise-canceling headphones. I know that my husband swears by the Sony Bluetooth noise-canceling headphones that he’s used on international flights. 17. Sitting bed pillow Speaking of studying in your room, a sitting bed pillow can help make studying more comfortable. Again I’ll go back to my own daughters: both got sitting bed pillows when they went away to college. Even now, after graduation, they continue to use their sitting bed pillow for hanging out in their rooms. 18. Reading lamp A bedside or reading lamp is a good idea. Why? When they are having a late-night study sessions when maybe their roommate is sleeping, and therefore the overhead light is off. A clip-on type of reading lamp gives your student options for where to put the lamp–I like that. 19. Toolkit There are two gifts we gave our daughters when they went off to college. Money to see a ROTH IRA A toolkit to take to their dorm room A toolkit isn’t something you might automatically think of as a college dorm must have, but you should. There were plenty of times when our daughters (or their roommates or their hall mates) needed a tape measure, screwdriver or cordless drill. We like toolkits that pack flat (again, limited storage space) and come in their own carrying case like this one from Black and Decker. 20. Extra phone charging cords Smartphone users go through phone charging cords like water. Send your student off to college with six to 10 charging cords–assuming they’ll lose or destroy one a month. You can restock over winter break. Charging cords make great stocking stuffers or one night’s gift for Chanukah. 21. Refrigerator Unless your college student is living in a suite with a kitchen, a small refrigerator is a great investment. As I mentioned earlier by using bed risers, we were able to put a small refrigerator under my younger daughter’s dorm bed. She was able to stock the refrigerator with Greek yogurt and other healthy snacks. This helped when she was running late to class or up studying and didn’t have time or the ability to make it to the dining hall. 22. Cleaning wipes Just as laundry pods provide no excuses for not doing laundry, having tubs of Clorox, Lysol or another brand of cleaning wipes on hand makes it easier for your student to keep their dorm room clean. This assumes they’ll actually use the cleaning wipes. You know what they say about taking a horse to water… 23. Swiffer floor cleaning kit A college dorm room with smooth floors is bound to get dust bunnies and dirty. Send your kid off with a Swiffer bundle starter kit so they can use both the dry and wet Swiffer pads to keep the floor clean 24. Area rug Sticking with the theme of smooth floors, a plush area rug can make a dorm room feel more like home and be more comfortable for bare feet. 25. Portable vacuum cleaner When I was in college, each floor of our dorm had a communal vacuum cleaner. The resident assistant kept it in their room. You can only imagine how gross that vacuum cleaner was by the end of the semester. These days you can buy compact yet powerful vacuum cleaners that can stow away easily in a closet. We got this Shark vacuum cleaner for my younger daughter. It was a lifesaver. 26. TV My friends with sons told me that taking a TV to college in 2019 was definitely a dorm must have. Even though they are going to college to study and get a degree, many of their sons unwound by playing videogames. Therefore, they needed a TV. I would recommend not buying a new TV to send to college but rather using an extra one from around the house. 27. Chromecast or Fire stick 27. If you decide to send your child to college with a TV, you might want to invest in a Chromecast or any cast device, or Fire stick or Roku so they can watch more than just videogames on their TV. 28. Power strip with flat plug A power strip with a flat plug–so it was flush to the wall–was actually a requirement at my older daughter’s college. In other words if an inspection turned up a traditional surge protector, your student would be asked to remove and replace it. Perhaps that’s a little too Big Brother, but nonetheless, to avoid any issues, we invested in a power strip with that flat plug. It did end up being a real space saver for her in a small dorm room. If you can find a surge protector with a flat plug and USB ports in it, that’s even better. Dorm room bathroom supplies I was lucky enough to have a bathroom right in my college dorm room. Neither my husband nor my daughters were so lucky. That meant that in addition to buying college bedding and the like, they needed dorm room bathroom supplies that they could take to the bath down the hall. Here are some items you may want to add to your student’s college dorm bathroom checklist 29. Bathroom caddy for college dorm No one wants to carry an armload of shampoo, soap and shavers with them every time they visit a college dorm bathroom. At the same time you can’t just leave your stuff on the bathroom counter and expect it will be there the next day. That’s why smart college students invest in a bathroom caddy. The best bathroom caddy for a college dorm is the one that can fit a ton of stuff and has holes on the bottom or is made of mesh. Why holes or mesh? So that if you bring it into the shower with you, the water can drain out the bottom. Otherwise, soon enough you’ll have a soupy, moldy mess. 30. Velcro towel wrap Of course you’ll need towels to bring with you to college. But chances are your son or daughter will be walking to and from their college dorm bathroom after a shower. Rather than struggle with changing clothes in the bathroom, a Velcro towel wrap that wraps around you and stays put is a must have. There are even Velcro towel wraps designed specifically for men. 31. Microfiber towel for hair Another must have for the college dorm bathroom checklist for those with long hair–a microfiber towel for wrapping around wet hair. It helps to pull moisture from your hair after washing. Plus the microfiber material dries really quickly. 32. Flip flops Flip flops can help your college student avoid picking up a foot fungus in a college dorm bathroom. That’s not to say that dorm bathrooms are dirty, but why risk it? I always stock up on flip flops when Old Navy is having a sale. Other must haves on what to bring to college While this article has focused primarily on college dorm must haves for 2019, there are many other must haves that guys and girls should bring to college. So I’ve created this additional section on other must haves on what to bring to college. Some of this is tangentially related to a college dorm room. The rest of it is just smart advice to share on college shopping. 33. Backpack with lifetime warranty Our family has been devout customers of companies that provide lifetime warranties for their products. Here is my popular post that outlines companies that stand behind their products. My daughters have both done quite well, in high school and college, with Jansport backpacks. Jansport is one of those companies that provide a product guarantee. 34. Amazon Prime student One of the first services we invested in when my older daughter went to college is Amazon Prime student. Prime Student costs half of what a regular Prime account is and provides the same free, two-day shipping that a regular account does. My daughters both saved a ton of money on textbooks. Plus, you can try out Prime Student for free for 30 days. 35. Reusable water bottle and coffee cup Your student will be able to send a ton of money with a reusable water bottle and coffee cup. Most college buildings have filtered water dispensers for free. Rather than spend $1 or more on plastic water bottles, your student can use a reusable water bottle and stay hydrated for free. With a reusable coffee cup they can save a small amount of money on each cup of coffee they might buy. College gift registries Two of the stores I’ve mentioned in this article offer college gift registries: Bed Bath and Beyond Target If it’s not too late, set up a college gift or college dorm registry for your student. This is a great way to keep your shopping list in one place online. It also makes it easier for aunts, uncles, grandparents or others who want to help send your child back to college. By giving them access to the college dorm must haves list, they’ll know what to buy. This college registry will also be useful come the holidays or birthdays. I’ve added the links in the names above to make it easier for you to set up those registries, if you so choose. Here’s an article I wrote in 2015 when Target first launched its college dorm gift registry. To make much of your shopping easier, I’ve put together a college dorm essentials shopping list over on Amazon. This includes items that I have not linked to at Target or Bed, Bath and Beyond. If you don’t have Amazon Prime yet, it’s yet another reason to gift your college freshman with an Amazon Student Prime account. You get 30 days free, and for the four years that they have an .edu email address, it’s half the price of regular Amazon Prime. If I’ve forgotten to include anything on this list of things to bring to college, please write a comment and let me know. I’m sure I’ll be updating this blog post during the back to college season this year and in the years to come. Here are some additional ways to save money as a college student. You might also enjoy Best Ways to Save Money as a College Student How Stitch Fix Helped Me Find the Perfect Graduation Dress Jackson Hewitt Tax Review Amazing Things to Buy on Amazon on Prime Day 2019 Shopping and Grocery Rebates My Ibotta App Review The post 35 appeared first on Leah Ingram. #BackToSchool #BedBathAndBeyond #PayingForCollege #Target #SmartShopper

Arplis - News source https://arplis.com/blogs/news/college-dorm-must-haves-2019

[shyatwork]

Wednesday: Black & Blue

This outfit is the epitome of summer to fall transition outfits for me- a cool-toned sleeveless top with an elastic circle skirt, capped off with smart black leather boots and a cross bag-tied cardigan…I love how it makes me feel like a character from Zelda, and is stylish without pushing the cards too much. Camping fairy vibes.

So this outfit has the most pieces out of this week: (1) A.P.C. top, (2) Korean street store skirt, (3) leather belt from a NYC thrift store, (4) Dan’s shrunken Theory cardigan, and (5) these lit ass MM6 Maison Margiela boots…yap.

Everyone loves to layer in the fall. This is exceptionally true for DC fall, because it can suddenly shift between upper 70s and lower 60s throughout the day. This outfit without the black cardigan and leather boots could very well be a summer fit, but on a closer look at the fabric of the pieces, you can see why they fit autumn so well.

Found in a NYC consignment store that stocks mainly modern pieces, I bought this A.P.C. top with a little resentment, because it was as if I chose practicality over picking out a swaggy item for myself. However, I quickly ate this regret after realizing how versatile and useful this blouse was: its perfect navy shade, interesting “vents”, and cute tie neck gave me a lot more to rely on than I expected. It has a normal length that goes a few inches or so below my hip and is just one of those tops that you can pull out and wear with basically anything. I give it at 89% reliability for the fact that it’s clearly well-made, but it’s not super exciting. Additionally, the velvety-look of the fabric does make it a bit more formal, so it’s okay with jeans, but better with a skirt or dressy pants….or a skirt!

This black, thinly-pleated, made out of some sort of super soft fabric that has pilled over the past 7+ years, lined with a black satin, and revived multiple times by replacing the inside elastic holding it in…skirt. My dad brought it home one day after one of his many business trips to Korea because I begged him to bring me back some clothes.

This skirt is an item that I think every single girl should have because it’s super comfortable, and can be easily dressed down (i.e., oversized sweatshirt + black pleats sticking out skirt + white sneakers) or up (like this outfit, but only to a certain extent). I’ll have to admit that its shape isn’t amazing, largely due to the fact that it’s only held together by an elastic band, making it a full-circle waist. But, it’s still lovable and 90% reliable for how easily it can be thrown on, and how comfortable it is. Your legs will feel very free.

To both assuage the skirt’s poofy effect and a layer of warmth and flair, I square-knotted this black cardigan around my shoulder/rib and stuck my stiff, black leather belt on top. The cardigan represents what I find so hit-or-miss about Theory - Daniel got this from the outlet store but it was still relatively expensive for a very basic piece. After just one wash and an accidental dry in the machine, it turned into this children’s felt-like material and is only really useful to me as a wraparound. Its cut is manly and makes my shoulders look large.

I recommend having a basic black cardigan, and this one serves all of my needs so I’ll give it a 83% reliability.

Also to make the skirt less bulky, I held it together with this stuff, black leather belt with a clean, rectangular, silver buckle. I picked it up at some random thrift store in New York in 2014 or 2015. In general, I think expensive belts are a scam, so I snatch up any belts I can find at a reasonable price. The rectangular buckle and worn black leather shade gives it a slightly retro vibe, but I don’t wear belts that often- this is one of two belts that I switch between. It’s definitely something I rely on 92%.

Finally!! The boots lol. 

I got them online at YOOX last fall when I was going through a crisis of not owning a pair of stylish black booties (that were flat and comfortable to walk in). YOOX is great for finding an item that you don’t want to settle for- they display lower prices than retail and often have additional discounts so you can get grrrrreat deals!

Also a quick note: I don’t give an f about “short people shouldn’t wear ankle boots,” or “ankle boots make your legs look fat/short.” If you’re smart about how you rock them, that won’t be a problem…and even if it was…you shouldn’t deny what you love. :-)

Anyways lmao I lovelovelove these boots for fall/winter. The touch of leather varies: soft and tight around my ankles, a patent “strap” across the foot, and a squared, sharp point that could bruise a shin…they’re great for both street wear and the office because of its defined shape and ability to taper your look. The skirt’s wider look is toned down by these boots that tell everyone that you aren’t just wearing a typical pair of shoes. These aren’t the most comfortable though, and run slightly small, so I give it a 91% reliability.

Top: ~$70 Skirt: ~$25 Belt: ~$25 Cardigan: ~$40 Boots: ~$160

[smartecky]

If you’re looking for a good jacket or bag, you have your choice of materials: leather, heavy nylon, waterproof synthetic weaves like Gore-Tex… but for my money (and not a little of it either) the king of them all is waxed canvas. Pliant yet protective, wind and water-resistant but breathable, handsome to start but grows a character of its own, waxed canvas strikes, for me, the perfect balance of attributes. I drape myself in it, and in the case of bags, drape it from myself.

The main caveat is that it is not is cheap — sure, you can get a bag for $30 or $40 on Amazon, but if you want something that will live for years and years and get better with age, you’re going to be spending quite a bit more than that.

The bags here are expensive, but like leather the craftsmanship and material quality matter a great deal in whether you end up with an item that deteriorates steadily or comes into its own. Like so many things, you get what you pay for — up to a certain point, of course.

I’ve collected bags from a variety of producers and tried them all for the last few months during everyday use and trips out of town. I focused on the “fits a medium-size laptop with room for a couple of books and a camera” size, but many of these makers have plenty of variety to choose from.

Check the galleries under each bag to see examples of anything I pick out as nice or irritating. (The galleries are all really tall because of a bug in our system. Don’t worry about it.)

ONA Union Street ($299) and Brixton ($289)

Pros: Rigidity and padding, customizable dividers, nice snaps

Cons: Cheap-feeling interior, bulky, could be waxier

Ona’s bags, at least these, are aimed more at the laptop-camera combo than others, with extra padding and internal dividers for bodies and extra lenses.

I reviewed the Union Street years and years ago during a previous bag week and liked it so much that I decided to buy one. It’s the larger of these two bags, fitting a 15-inch laptop and a DSLR with an extra lens or two small ones.

Not only is the whole interior lined with padding, but the dividers are padded and the main flap itself has a sturdiness that has helped protect my gear against drops and kicks. The bottom, although it is also padded and feels soft, has lived through years of scooting around and placement on rough terrain.

I like the spring-powered self-locking snaps, though when I first got the bag I was convinced they’d be the first thing to fail. Seven years and thousands of snaps later, they’re still going strong, and when I was worried one was failing (it didn’t), Ona gladly sent me a replacement.

It was my standby for a long time, and I still have it. It has aged well in some ways, not so well in others — its waxed front has survived years of scratches and slides along the floor and is marvelously smooth and still water-resistant. I don’t know how they did it. On the other hand, some areas have worn holes and the magnet that holds the back flap shut (a smart idea) eventually burrowed its way out.

The newer one feels very lightly waxed, but I know it’s in there. That said, if you want the full waxy look and feel, it could use a bit more. It’s really a matter of taste.

The inside is the weakest link. The fuzzy plush interior feels cheap to me (though it’s undeniably protective), there are no internal pockets and repeated sticking and unsticking of the Velcro dividers wears the material down in places. Although being able to customize the interior space is invaluable for photographers specifically, a couple of strong decisions inside would make it a better all-purpose bag, in my opinion.

The Brixton is the Union Street’s smaller sibling, fitting a 13-inch laptop and a bit less camera-wise. They share many qualities, including price (only a $10 difference) and ultimately the decision is one of what you need rather than which is better.

For me it’s a toss-up. I like the open, separate pockets on the exterior of the Brixton for things like filters and cables, but the zippered front pocket of the Union Street is better for pens, phones and more valuable stuff. Personally I like the look of the Union Street better, with its riveted straps and uninterrupted waxed canvas flap.

If I had to choose, I’d go with the Union Street again, since it’s not so much larger that it becomes cumbrous, but the extra space may make the difference between having to pack a second bag or not.

Filson 24-Hour Tin Briefcase ($395)

Pros: Versatile, well made and guaranteed, spacious

Cons: Lighter material and wax, floppy handles, storm flap nitpick

Filson has been a Seattle standby for a century and more, with its signature waxed-canvas jackets covering the bodies of the hip, the outdoorsy and the tourists alike. Their most practical bag is this one, the 24-Hour Tin Briefcase, which as the name indicates is a little more on the overnight bag side of things.

This bag has a large main compartment with a padded laptop area that will hold a 15-incher easily, and a couple of pockets on the inside to isolate toothbrushes and pens and the like. On the outside is a pair of good-sized zippered pockets that open wide to allow access from either the top or side; inside those are organizer strips and sub-pockets for pens and so on.

This is definitely the best generalist out of the bags I tried — it’s equally at home as a daily driver or at the airport. Essentially it’s the perfect “personal item” carry-on. When I’m leaving for a trip I invariably grab this bag because it’s so adaptable. Although it looks a bit bulky it flattens down well when not full, but it doesn’t look weird when it’s packed tightly.

A bonus with Filson is that should it ever rip or fail — and I mean ever — you can take it in and they’ll fix or patch it for free. I’ve done this with my jackets and it’s 100 percent awesome. The scars where the tears were make for even more character.

On the other hand, unlike many Filson products, this one feels only lightly waxed. If you want more protection from rain you’ll want to add some wax yourself, not something everyone wants to do. You’ll eventually re-wax any of these bags, but this one just seemed to need it right off the bat. The material is a little lighter than some of the other bags, but that could be a plus or a minus. I wouldn’t mind if it was a bit more heavy-duty, like their “rugged twill.”

The handles are nicely made and thick, but tend to sort of flop around when not needed. And the storm flap that covers the top zipper, while welcome, feels like it has the snap on the wrong side — it makes attaching or detaching it a two-hand affair. When it isn’t full, the bag can be a bit shapeless — it’s not really boardroom ready. For that you want Croots or Ernest Alexander below.

Ernest Alexander Walker and Hudson – $385

Pros: Great texture and color, nice style details, low profile

Cons: Impractical closure on Hudson, Walker has limited space, looks compromise utility a bit

Note: I tried two bags from this maker and unfortunately in the meantime both have sold out. I’ve asked when they’ll be back on the market, but for now you can take this review as a general indicator of the quality of Ernest Alexander bags.

The one I took to from the start is the Walker; it has a pleasantly sleek, minimal look on the outside, the material a handsome chocolate color that has started to wear well. But open up the flap and you have this lovely blue fine canvas inside (there’s a reverse scheme as well). To me this was the most refined of all the bags in this roundup. I like that there are no snaps, clips or anything visible on the outside — just a wide expanse of that beautiful material.

It’s a slim bag but not restrictively so; if what you need to carry isn’t awkward or bulky, there’s room for a good amount in there. Books, a mirrorless with a pancake lens, laptop — sure. But you’re definitely not fitting a spare set of clothes or some groceries.

The small zippered exterior pocket is great for a phone or cables, while the deep interior and exterior pockets are easily accessed and relatively spacious. If you control your loadout, there’s room for lots of stuff in here.

Unfortunately, if you don’t control it, the bag gets bent out of shape easily. Because the top flap attaches to the bottom at the center, if it gets too full the whole thing bulges awkwardly and the tips flip out. And the carry strap, alas, tends to tug on the flap in a way that draws its sides up and away from the clip. And don’t even try to pick it up with the flap detached.

Placing the clip underneath the flap also makes for a fiddly procedure — you have to lift up one side to get at it, and because the loop flips down when not in use, it becomes a two-handed operation to put the two pieces together. A sturdier, more fixed loop would make this easier. But it’s all in the name of style, and the sleek exterior may make up for these fussy aspects.

The cross-body strap has a lot of extra material but I made it into a neat little knot. I think it works pretty well, actually.

The larger Hudson messenger I was prepared to like but ultimately just can’t recommend. Theoretically it’s fantastic, with magnetic pocket closures, tons of room, and a cross between the simplicity of the Walker and the versatility of the Filson bag. But the closure system is just too much of a hassle.

It’s two straps in a simple belt style, which are a huge pain to do over and over if you’re frequently opening and closing the bag. Compared to Ona closures, which combine speed with the flexibility of belt-style adjustment, it just takes forever to access the Hudson. If they make a revised version of this bag that addresses this, it will have my hearty recommendation.

Croots England Vintage Canvas Laptop – $500

Pros: Handsome, well padded, excellent craftsmanship and materials

Cons: Flappy handles, uneven wear, laptop compartment, expensive

Having encountered a Croots bag in the wild one time, I knew I had to include this long-time waxed canvas player in the roundup. Croots waxed canvas is less oily than Filson or ONA, more like a heavy sailcloth. It feels very strong and holds its shape well. It is, however, on the high end of the spectrum.

That said, because of its stiffness, the Vintage Canvas Laptop bag seems to want to wear prematurely in areas that stick out a bit, like corners or folds near stitching. The wear process shifts the material from the smooth, almost ballistic nylon texture to a rough fuzzy one that I’m not so sure about. The aging from just a couple of weeks of use already has me a little worried, but it’s also very thick canvas.

The design is a bit more busy than the Ernest Alexander bags, but very handsome and mostly practical. I love the olive color, which contrasts beautifully with the red backing for the zippers. It doesn’t look Christmas-y at all, don’t worry.

The straps are a standout feature. The thick leather handles are attached below the zipper and rear pocket to D-rings, which in turn attach to separate leather straps that go under the entire bag. First this means that the handles flip down easily out of the way, since the D-rings rotate in their loops. The riveted construction also means that there’s no stitching to worry about in the whole strap assembly. And the bottoms of the loops do a little basic protection of the canvas down there.

It also means that when you’re walking, the outside handle tends to flap rather ungracefully against the side; the inner one, up or down, will be rubbing against your flank or back. You can, however, stow them in the side pockets with a bit of effort, which is a thoughtful touch.

The interior is a lovely shade of red, with several large loose pockets and some stiff leather ones for notebooks and so on. Unfortunately the laptop pocket is poorly proportioned: it’s hugely spacious, enough for three or four laptops to slide in, but the button to snap it shut is so low that I can’t get it fastened over a single 13-inch MacBook Pro. The idea that it could hold a 15-inch is ludicrous.

There’s lots of padding, though, so I wasn’t worried about anything banging around. There’s also the option for a separate camera insert, though large SLR users will likely want to size up.

There isn’t a heck of a lot of room in there but this is definitely meant to be a daily driver briefcase and not an overnight bag — a “personal item” on the plane perhaps but I would take the Filson or ONA over it for space reasons. However as a bag to take to work the cafe, or the bookstore it’s a great option and a striking one. The Flight Bag is a slightly more expansive and unique option.

S-Zone – $30

Pros: Price, magnetic closures, leather edge details

Cons: Cheap-feeling interior and leather, little padding for laptop

To balance out the admittedly very expensive bags in this review I decided to grab a cheap one off Amazon as well. As I expected, it isn’t up to the quality level of the others, but for $30 it’s a bargain. If you want to experience how waxed canvas evolves and wears, an inexpensive bag like this is a great way to try it out.

The S-Zone’s fabric is a little thin but solid, rather stiff to begin with, but that’s fine — it’ll loosen up as you use the bag. The interior is a cheap-feeling synthetic, however — it’ll work, but you won’t feel like royalty using it.

There’s leather detailing all over, and in some places it feels solid, like the attachments for the shoulder strap and at the corners, where there are big patches that will scuff up nicely. But the handle feels like trouble waiting to happen.

Instead of a D-ring to allow it to flip down, the leather itself has been loosened up so that it’s extra bendy just above where it attaches. When it’s down, the thin rope around which the handle leather is wrapped is exposed; I can just see this getting soaked, bent, soaked again, bent, and getting weaker and weaker.

The front pockets are a little tight, but I like the little magnetic snaps — they make it easy to open and close them without looking. Just be careful not to stuff too much in there or the snaps won’t hold against the pressure. There’s a good deal of room inside, more than the Croots or Ernest Alexander, but less than the ONA or Filson.

But then there’s the curious design choice to put padding in the divider defining the laptop section, rather than on the outside. And the leather corner pieces stop just short of it! That means the only thing between the corner of your laptop and the ground is the nylon and canvas — and they don’t make for much of a cushion. Though the other bags don’t all have dedicated padding in this area, they do all seem to mitigate it better, and the S-Zone bag puts your laptop in the most danger of hitting the ground.

Hopefully the high prices of these won’t turn you off — watch for sales and you can get even these high-end options at huge discounts (it’s how I’ve been able to afford them myself).

Do you have any recommendations for more bags along these lines that we should check out for the next time we do Bag Week? Tell me in the comments!

Read more: https://techcrunch.com/2018/06/20/review-waxed-canvas-bags-from-filson-ona-croots-and-more/

Bag Week 2018: Waxed canvas bags from Filson, Ona, Croots and more If you’re looking for a good jacket or bag, you have your choice of materials: leather, heavy nylon, waterproof synthetic weaves like Gore-Tex… but for my money (and not a little of it either) the king of them all is waxed canvas.