Thinking about him again (mobvada)

Quarantine things (ft. Yamaguchi Tadashi, Tsukishima Kei, Ushijima Wakatoshi & Kita Shinsuke) | headcanon

Quarantine has been forcing me to be productive with school but I’ve been having all these spurs of ideas in my head. So I wanted to write this before I forget it, and so I can feel like I did something today before I work on more essays and hw. :) 

Also, side note I’ve been doing Yoga with Adriene to help with my chronic back pain. PEOPLE! If you want start yoga during quarantine I 11/10 recommend her channel on YouTube. Stay healthy and stay safe <3 

Yamaguchi Tadashi

You notice how much he’s willing to try new things, now that time has freed up.

Baking croissants, juicing veggies and fruits, rummaging through the pantry to make dinner with boxed food (because he wants to make sure you both only go grocery shopping when you absolutely have to). 

When it is time to go out to the public, he makes sure you both glove up, sanitize, and wear bandanas with sunglasses (at the market). 

You know those Korean grandmas that wear those sleeves and visors?

Yep. You two are that couple. 

“Grab the box from the inside Y/N!!” He’s sneaky like that 

He’s paranoid, but he still wants to make sure you both use this time to spend quality moments together ...because he knows you’re not able to visit a lot of friends and family right now :(( 

Walks at the park during the most unexpected times throughout the day

You both have a dog, his name is YamYam 

Tadashi uses this time to really upgrade the dog’s instagram and make him go dogstagram viral I dont know why I’m so obsessed with making Tadashi internet famous ok :( 

Sleeping in all the time (morning cuddles are a must) 

Don’t you think that I would forget about his terrarium. He still worships that buddy everyday! By now your days with Tadashi are filled with dog walks, healthy receipes, plants, and daylight cuddles. 

Tsukishima Kei 

Dalonga coffee, dalonga matcha, dalonga everything with our boy Tsukishima. 

Ever tried egg coffee? You protested against it at first but Tsukishima kept teasing you how great it was until you finally caved in and tried it. 

It’s. The. Shit. (However you want it interpret that) 

Every morning, without fail, you both sit over at the kitchen island and sip on coffee or tea. Bedhead, pjs and everything. You don’t say much, but its the quiet and peace that rises in the morning that makes you appreciate these moments with him. 

Contrary to popular belief, Tsukishima is actually a hopeless romantic. So you’ll have these evenings where he makes a new playlist from Spotify and just starts grooving to the beat with you. (This is shared between you and Tsuki ONLY). Copyrights on Tsuki’s jazzy hands. 

He loves seeing you move on your own and as some may think its him dreading it, he LOVES it when you drag him into dancing too. 

When you watch TV show together at night, he likes to psychoanalyze the characters with you

“But what do you think of this. He’s turned into a cereal killer because of childhood trauma from his aunt feeding him much coco puffs.”

“The hell Y/N?? that doesn’t even make any sense! It’s bc he worked at the grocery store and the manager always assigned him to restock the dry cereal and oatmeal aisle.”

You read in bed separately together, but you’ll lean on each other for back support. 

Stillness with Tsuki is all he’s ever asked for, all he’s ever wanted with you. 

Ushijima Wakatoshi 

Sure, most of the time his mind is on volleyball. But when it comes down to it, the person he spends most of the time thinking about is actually you. 

He’s estatic to spend time with you in quarantine! He makes sure to not break his routines though, so he’s always encouraging you to work out with him in the morning. Whether or not you’re a morning person, you also try to push yourself to exercise! So Toshi doesn’t have to run by himself, plus you’ll get fit too! 

But there was this one thing Toshi never really got into, but by being with you more, he’s finally come around to it. 

It’s Yoga baby. 

Volleyball is an intense sport. So with all that practice and endless hours he’s dedicated, Toshi usually goes to physical therapy to work on his muscles. Since everything is closed, he started doing yoga with you to relieve some back pain :’( 

He can’t thank you enough, because his posture is straighter and he doesn’t toss and turn in his sleep like he did before

Y’all I hate to break it to you but... Tendou finally got him. After all those ads on the Weekly Shonen Jump, he’s discovered Amazon Prime. 

He’s looking at things on amazon and adding it to his cart!!! He never buys it though 

“ Y/N, I think an air fryer is a good idea”

“What? No we have a toaster oven”

“But according to the (amazon price tracker app) it’s the lowest it’s ever been.”

The air fryer was indeed the best thing that’s ever updated in your household. 

He laughs more, he smiles more, he’s just really happy to be domestic with you. Home with you is like his safe space. Because he can let his guard down and lean on you for emotional and mental support. 

Kita Shinsuke 

This quarantine really concerns him. Not because he’s neccesarily afraid of contracting the virus, but worries about his grandma potentially getting it :(

So you both make a very, very tough decision and figured it was best that he spent his time with his grandma to nurse and take care of her until the shelter in place is lifted. 

But the week before he leaves, you and Kita spent an entire two days sewing face masks and care packages for his neighbors. 

He makes sure to meal prep for you some food throughout the week and even teaches you some basic recipes to get you through the month. 

You and Kita both go on this massive cleaning spree where you bleach and tidy up everything. 

By the end of it, there was more than enough bags of clothes to give away to a donation shop near by. 

On his last days with you, he spends as much time with you doing things unrelated to the pandemic! Like DIY face masks and cutting up fruit as you both play Bananagrams together. 

When he’s off to his grandma’s he makes sure to religiously facetime you before bed! 

You teach his grandma how to use dog filters over the phone and sometimes you forget he meant to call to talk to you. 

You somehow ended up talking to his grandma for half an hour, listening to her talk about baby Shinsuke childhood stories. 

I dont know, you miss him so much. He misses you more. But you both are so understanding and supportive of each other that counting off the days doesn’t even exist anymore. You just find new things to share and talk about over the phone everyday. 

21 Things To Do This Summer PJM

y/n has a week left to live and 21 things she wanted to do this summer. Jimin vows to help her do them all before she dies and give her the summer of a lifetime.

jimin x reader - angst, fluff, comedy, non-idol!au

Part of BangtanHQ’s ‘Bangtan Boardwalk’ at the ‘Summertime Sadness’ booth!

Rating: Mature (heavy themes and strong language - read with caution)

Word Count: 16.9k+ (she’s a monster omg)

Warnings: death and illness, discussion of death and illness, jokes about death and illness, brain tumour, discussion of eating disorders, brief mention of murder and crime (y/n jokes that Jimin could be a murderer or a thief), explicit language throughout, I think that’s it but please let me know if you noticed that I missed anything

a/n: here’s the first part guys! if you enjoy it, make sure to check out the other fics in the Summertime Sadness booth, and the other booths on the Bangtan Boardwalk! a huge thank you to @silverlightprincess​ for proofreading this massive fic, I love you so damn much x

silverlightqueen masterlist

y/n’s Summer Bucket List

21 Things to Do This Summer

1) Make a new friend

2) Dye my hair

3) Go on a road trip

4) Do pavement chalk

5) Get everybody I talk to to sign a shirt

6) Have s’mores at a bonfire

7) Get drunk and skinny dip at the beach

8) Make a wish balloon

9) Go to a fairground

10) Have a picnic

11) Get a tattoo

12) Sleep under the stars

13) Cloud watch

14) Try camping for the first time

15) Have a water fight

16) Make homemade ice cream

17) Have a pyjama day

18) Send a message in a bottle

19) Watch fireworks

20) Go to a drive-in movie

21) Make a photo album of it all

‘Hey! Hey, excuse me! Hey, wait, you dropped something!’ I can hear someone shouting and, despite the tears running down my face, I roll my eyes, wondering why the idiot who dropped something doesn’t stop to get it. ‘Excuse me! Hey, wait!’ I hear, the voice getting closer, before I feel a tap on my shoulder, and I realise; I’m the idiot.

I turn around to see a boy. The first thing I notice is the piece of paper in his hand. The second thing I notice is that I already know him. ‘You dropped thi- oh, y/n! Hey! Long time, no see. Wait, whoa, are you crying?’ he asks, and I roll my eyes again as I frustratedly wipe away my tears. ‘No, Jimin, why? Does it look like I am?’ I spit out sarcastically. ‘Okay, I’m going to ignore how rude that was because you’re clearly upset about something, and I’m going to be a good person and return this to you,’ he says, holding out the piece of paper. When I realise what it is, I snatch it from him, tucking it safely into my bag and mentally chiding myself for nearly losing it.

‘Thank you. Sorry for being rude,’ I say before I turn away, continuing to head home. It’s only after a few seconds I realise he’s walking beside me, and I speed up, trying to get away from him. He speeds up too. I slow down. So does he. I stop in my tracks, turning to shoot him an annoyed look, and he merely grins back at me, blinding me with his annoyingly handsome smile.

‘What do you want, Jimin?’ I ask tiredly, deciding not to be rude after he returned my list to me. ‘Well, it’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other, so I thought it’d be nice to catch up. And I also know you, and you’re clearly upset about something, and I’m not going to abandon somebody who I have history with if they’re crying. And, as well as being a very caring and empathetic person, I’m very curious, and so I have to find out why you’re upset,’ he says, and I frown, continuing to walk, even more annoyed when he continues to walk alongside me.

‘It’s none of your business, Jimin,’ I say sharply, hoping he’ll leave me alone. ‘Well, obviously. It’s your business. But the nature of being curious is wanting to know other people’s business,’ he says as though he’s speaking to a little child, and I shoot him another look. ‘You’re practically a stranger.’ ‘I am not! We had classes together through the whole of high school!’ ‘I’m not going to tell you my business,’ I say with a note of finality, hoping he’ll leave the subject. And leave me, for that matter.

‘Would you tell me if you knew me better?’ he asks thoughtfully, and I roll my eyes. ‘Probably, yes.’ ‘Okay. I’m a Libra, I hate spinach and 13 is my lucky number. Oh, and I dance,’ he says, and I literally want to bash my head against a wall. ‘That does not mean I know you better. It just means you overshare.’ ‘Well, you can’t say I’m practically a stranger. Maybe only half a stranger,’ he says, and I let out a humourless laugh at how persistent he is, and he grins, mistaking it for a real laugh.

‘God, what is it with you? What do I have to say to you to get you to leave me alone?’ I ask, stopping in the street and putting my hand on my hip. ‘If you tell me why you’re crying. Or, should I say, were? Because, if you haven’t already noticed, you’re no longer crying. Thanks to me,’ he grins, and I actually didn’t notice that I’m not crying anymore.

‘Well, your stupid ass has distracted me,’ I admit, and he laughs, the sound quite… endearing. ‘So? Tell me then. I think I deserve to know. Considering I cheered you up,’ he says, and I roll my eyes yet again. ‘I said that you distracted me. That is not the same as cheering me up. Listen, Jimin, I’d appreciate it if you left me alone. It’s nice to see you again, and I hope everything’s going well in your life, but it is not a good time for me right now. My patience is seriously wearing thin,’ I say, continuing to walk, but he still walks beside me, making me want to throttle him.

‘I think your patience was already thin. And I’m a good citizen, so I would never just let a pretty girl crying pass me by without asking what’s wrong. Especially if I already know her,’ he says lightly, and I roll my eyes. Is he seriously trying to flirt with me? ‘Jimin. Leave me alone,’ I say seriously, putting emphasis on every word as the anger begins to bubble up in my stomach. ‘Not until you tell me what’s wro-’ ‘I have a week left to live!’ I shout, losing my temper, and his face instantly transforms from teasing and light, to shocked and guilty as tears fill my eyes. That’ll teach him not to pry into other people’s business.

‘Oh. Oh, gosh. I’m sorry, y/n. I wouldn’t have asked if that’s what it was. I thought you were gonna say you’d broken up with your boyfriend or something. I’m so sorry,’ he says, sounding sincere, but I merely roll my eyes, turning and walking away, and hoping he’ll leave me alone now. ‘How’d you know?’ I hear him say from beside me, and I sigh aloud, having to physically restrain myself from hitting this boy with my bag.

‘What?’ ‘How’d you know you’ve only got a week left to live?’ ‘I went to the doctor a couple days ago, for chronic headaches. They did some scans, and then I got a call this morning to go to the hospital. They told me I have a brain tumour. Terminal. They said I’m lucky if I have another ten days,’ I say tiredly, a couple tears falling down my face which I wipe away hastily, and he takes a deep breath. ‘Wow. I’m really sorry. That’s… terrible. Is there no treatment?’ he asks, and I sigh again. ‘Yes, but they said it’s unlikely to cure it, it’ll only delay my inevitable death, and it’s… painful. I’d rather die sooner than later if later’s gonna hurt. Or it could get rid of the tumour, but it could ruin my future quality of life; I might not be able to speak the same, walk the same, even think the same. So I’ve refused treatment,’ I explain, not sure why I’m opening up to him, and he nods. ‘Reasonable. I’d do the same.’

We walk in silence for a few moments before Jimin starts speaking again. ‘So. Where are you going now?’ he asks, and I side-eye him. ‘Home.’ ‘To your boyfriend?’ ‘Don’t have one.’ ‘Girlfriend?’ ‘Don’t have one of those either.’ ‘Spouse?’ ‘I’m single.’ ‘Parents?’ ‘Don’t live with them.’ ‘Siblings?’ ‘Only child.’ ‘Friends.’ ‘Don’t have any.’ ‘What about all your friends from school?’ ‘I matured; they didn’t.’ ‘Oop. Roommates?’ ‘Nope.’

‘You live alone?’ he asks, and I laugh. ‘I have a dog. If that counts,’ I say, and he grins. ‘Of course it counts. What breed?’ ‘A miniature husky. His name’s Coco, and he’s literally tiny,’ I say, a small smile coming onto my face at the thought of my baby, and he holds a hand to his heart. ‘That’s a cute name. My friend, Taehyung – you remember him, right? – he has a Pomeranian who’s tiny, called Yeontan. Tannie for short. Tan for even shorter,’ he says, and I smile despite myself.

‘That’s so adorable. Maybe Taehyung can have Coco. He’ll need a new owner,’ I say jokingly, and Jimin winces. ‘Don’t you feel like it’s too early to make jokes?’ he asks, and I laugh. ‘It’s never too early. By the time it’s okay, I’ll be dead,’ I say bluntly, and he lets out a strangled laugh, as though he wants to hold it back but can’t.

I still feel a little shocked, but mainly numb. I went through the stages of dealing with bad news whilst I was still at the hospital. I started by denying it, and telling the doctor that something in the scan must be wrong. And then I got super angry that it hadn’t already been identified and screamed a little at her (it was my own fault, though – I’m the one that didn’t go to the doctor until it’d been months of me having headaches). Then I tried to bargain with the doctor, and ask if there were any treatments that don’t hurt or wouldn’t cause me irreversible damage, or if there was any chance I would survive any longer. And then I cried. A lot. And by a lot, I mean a lot. I got through a box and a half of tissues. I was at the hospital for three and a half hours, and spent two hours of that crying. And I was still crying when I left.

I guess I’m now in the acceptance stage. I didn’t know it was possible to move through the stages that quickly.

‘What was that paper you dropped? Your diagnosis?’ he asks, and I shake my head. ‘All my paperwork was in a folder, loads of it. I threw it in the recycling at the hospital.’ ‘Glad to see you’re looking after the planet for those of us that’ll still be here when you’re gone,’ Jimin says, almost tentatively, and I burst out laughing, covering my mouth. ‘That was funny,’ I admit, and he grins, relaxing. ‘I do try.’ ‘Yes, you’re very trying.’

‘Anyway. What was that paper then?’ he asks, and I sigh. ‘Do you, like, make it your life’s mission to pry?’ ‘No, it comes naturally. A lot of girls receive it well, actually. They like it when someone good-looking seems interested in their life,’ he smirks, and I shoot him a disgusted look. ‘Big-headed much?’ ‘Just truthful.’ ‘Well, I’m not receiving it well. Clearly.’ ‘I guess you’re not like other girls then,’ he muses, and I shoot him another look. ‘Please don’t tell me you think that’s a compliment, because it isn’t,’ I say, and he laughs. ‘I didn’t mean it like that. Let me rephrase it. You’re not like the girls that I’m used to being around.’ ‘You’re probably used to being around girls just as pretty as you.’ ‘You think I’m pretty?’ ‘Shut up.’ ‘Well, you’re right. But it’s okay, because you’re not just as pretty as me. You’re prettier.

But anyway. Are you gonna tell me what that paper is?’ he asks again, skimming over the fact he’s now called me pretty for the second time, and I sigh, giving up. ‘It’s a summer bucket list. I saw this girl reading a book with the same name in the waiting room at the doctor’s surgery the other day, and it inspired me to write one,’ I admit, and he grins. ‘That’s cute,’ he says, and I roll my eyes, looking away from him. ‘Well, I’m gonna die before I get to do any of them anyway,’ I say, and he sighs. ‘Oh. Yeah. Forgot about that,’ he says, voice small, and I nod.

We continue walking, his shoulder a few inches from mine, and I distract myself from the slightly awkward silence by looking at our surroundings instead. It’s a lovely summer’s day today; warm and sunny with the most beautiful breeze. Families are out in force despite it being a weekday, little boys running around shirtless and barefoot, and little girls in cute summer outfits. Chill ‘vibey’ music floats through open car windows, couples share ice cream at the café we walk past, birds chirp in the trees that line the road. It’s such a beautiful day. I even shaved my legs and put on a cute floral playsuit. So much for sunbathing in the garden.

‘Hang on,’ Jimin says suddenly, stopping in his tracks. ‘What?’ ‘Who says you can’t tick off your bucket list?’ he asks, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘I’m going to die, Jimin,’ I say slowly, and he lets out a frustrated noise. ‘You have a week. That’s more than enough time for us to do it all,’ he says, and my eyes widen. ‘Us? Who said anything about us?’ ‘I’ve taken it upon myself to help you tick off this bucket list.’ ‘And I’m taking it upon myself to refuse your help.’

‘Um, rude. Why?’ he asks with an amused glint in his eye, and my eyes widen even more. ‘Are you kidding? We barely know each other. The closest we ever were was when Nayeon and Jungkook dated and we all planned at their joint birthday party, and when we got paired together for that History project. That was years ago; I have no idea what kind of person you are now. You could be a murderer,’ I say, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘You’re going to die anyway,’ he says, and I stifle a laugh. ‘Okay, I’m allowed to joke about it; you are not. You could be a thief.’ ‘Again: you’re going to die anyway. But, I’m not a thief, so don’t worry. You’ll still have all of your belongings to put in your will.’ ‘Excuse me. Stop joking about my imminent death.’

‘Listen, I want to help you. Let me help you tick off your bucket list,’ he pleads, and I’m surprised at myself for actually considering it. I’m going to die anyway – I might as well spend my last few days having fun. Even if it is with an unbearably curious person from my past. ‘Please let me help you. I’ll consider my life a waste if you don’t,’ he says dramatically, dropping to the floor, making enough of a scene for people to look over at us. ‘Jimin, get up,’ I hiss, and he scrabbles at my shoes. ‘I’ll die if you don’t let me. Please, y/n, please let me,’ he wails, and I look around embarrassedly, feeling lots of stares on us.

‘If I say yes, will you stop making such an embarrassment of yourself?’ I hiss, and he looks up at me with wide eyes and a grin, nodding. ‘Then, yes. I’ll let you help me,’ I sigh, and he jumps up from the floor, a wide smile spreading across his lips. ‘Okay, let’s see what I’m working with,’ he says, and I look at him blankly. ‘Let me see the list,’ he prompts, and I pull the list out of my bag, handing it to him tiredly.

‘Okay, let’s see. ‘y/n’s Summer Bucket List’. Cute. ‘21 Things to Do This Summer’. Only 21 things? This’ll be easier than I thought,’ he says, before his eyes scan down the rest of the list. As he reads it, I look him up and down, inspecting him. He’s changed since school. A lot. He’s now around 5’8’’, with clear golden skin, chocolate brown eyes, plump pink lips and ink black hair swept back from his forehead (must be dyed because I remember his hair being a lot lighter than this). He’s dressed in a pair of grey shorts and a plain white t-shirt, a loose grey jacket over the top of it with pair of sunglasses at the back of his head. ‘Okay, well, you’ve already achieved number one. Making a new friend,’ he says, pointing at himself with a grin, and I roll my eyes exasperatedly. ‘I don’t know you well enough to call you a friend,’ I say, and he sighs.

‘That’s the best bit. You barely know me, and I barely know you. We can be whoever we want to be. All I know about you is the vague stuff from school, and I know that you had high hopes for this summer, but you’ve been diagnosed with a terminal illness. And you’ve only got a week left. And that you’re grumpy and get annoyed easily and are not receptive to strangers. And you’ve got a dog called Coco. All you know about me is the vague stuff from school, and that I’m a Libra, I hate spinach, my lucky number is 13, and that I dance.’ ‘And that you’re annoyingly curious and persistent and stubborn and think a lot of yourself.’ ‘Exactly! That’s literally nothing in the grand scheme of things.’

‘So you think we should lie to each other about what and who we are?’ ‘No, no, you’re misunderstanding. Haven’t you ever wanted to be like someone, but you’re too scared to, or you’re too stuck in your ways?’ he asks, voice soft, and I nod. ‘This is your chance. We barely know each other, and we have no more than a week together. You get to be whatever you want to be, y/n, and we’ll tick off everything on your list. We can be like those reckless teenagers from all those stupid films. What have you got to lose?’ he says gently, his eyes big and his words convincing.

‘We can’t do all this in a week,’ I say, and he sighs. ‘Can’t is not in my vocabulary. And neither are cannot, unable to, won’t, shouldn’t, wouldn’t, mustn’t-’ ‘Who in this century says mustn’t?’ ‘We can easily do all this in a week. Even less than a week,’ he says, and I raise a sceptical eyebrow. ‘Ambitious, but I don’t think so.’ ‘And that’s not in my vocabulary either. But… give me four days,’ he says, and my eyes widen. ‘Four days?’ ‘Easy. I could probably do it in three, but I’ll say an extra day just to be sure,’ he says confidently, and I roll my eyes.

‘Haven’t you, like… got a job? Or, like, studying? You can’t just devote four days – or more – to helping me tick off my bucket list,’ I say, and he rolls his eyes. ‘Why are you so sensible? Trust me, there’s nothing I have to do,’ he says, and I raise an eyebrow, not believing him for a second. ‘Fine,’ he sighs, ‘I work with my friend – Hoseok, remember him? – at his dance studio, but he’ll let me have some time off,’ he says, and I’m still slightly sceptical, but decide to give him the benefit of the doubt.

‘Why do you want to help me? Haven’t you got better things to do with your life?’ I ask him, voice small, and he smiles, seemingly endeared. ‘There’s something tragic about you, y/n. You went to the hospital alone to be told that you’re going to die. And you don’t live with anybody. And you have a list of things you wanted to do this summer, but won’t be able to do them without help. My help. Of all the places you dropped that paper, you dropped it in front of me. And of all the people that could’ve picked it up, it was me. We haven’t seen each other since we left school, and even though the odds of us seeing each other again were slim, look where we are. Fate works in mysterious ways, y/n. Let me help you. For old time’s sake,’ he says softly, and I feel that little voice in my head whisper, ‘why not?’

‘You know what? Let’s do it,’ I say, throwing caution to the wind, and feeling a little bit of excitement bloom in my chest. ‘Wait, really?’ he asks, surprise on his face but also… hope in his eyes. ‘Yeah. Let’s do it,’ I say with a small smile, the excitement in my chest flooding out into my veins. He jumps up and pumps the air, whooping and shouting in celebration, and I don’t even feel embarrassed of him, finding it quite endearing.

‘Okay, let’s get started. It’s 12.32, so we have until 12.32 on Sunday to tick the whole list off. Let me look at the list again. Um… well, number one’s done. And the last one, the photo album, we can buy a photo album now and take pictures as we go along to put in it,’ he says, thinking aloud, before he turns abruptly. I look around in alarm before rushing after him. ‘Where are we going?’ ‘There’s a supermarket just down the road that we can get a photo album from. Oh, and we can buy an instant camera too! Cuter pictures,’ he says, and I roll my eyes with a small smile on my face.

‘We should just scrap that one. It’s not like I’ll be able to look back at it, so what’s the point?’ I say, and he frowns at me. ‘Well, we could say that about all of this, but it’s about making your last few days exciting and fun and an experience of a lifetime. So don’t say ‘what’s the point’, because there is a point,’ he says firmly, and I keep my mouth shut, unable to stop a small smile from appearing on my face.

We enter the supermarket, the change in temperature making me shiver in my skimpy outfit, and Jimin looks over at me. ‘Oh, my God, my mum would kill me if she knew how ungentlemanly I was being right now,’ he says, taking his jacket off. ‘No, Jimin, it’s fine,’ I try to stop him, but he’s already handing it to me and taking my little backpack from my hand. ‘Let me. Have you ever been treated like a princess?’ he asks, and I shake my head shyly. ‘Then take the jacket and let me hold your bag. It’s the least you deserve,’ he says, and I smile to myself as I shrug on the jacket without further complaint, watching amusedly when he puts on the backpack.

He leads us towards the electronics, the back corner of the store, and makes a beeline for the camera section. ‘What’s your favourite colour?’ he asks, and I hesitate. ‘It’s hard to choose a favourite,’ I say quietly, and he rolls his eyes, an amused smile playing at his lips. ‘Okay. What’s your favourite colour out of these?’ he says, motioning to the instant cameras, and I think before answering, ‘that one. The pastel blue.’ ‘Ah, nice choice,’ he says, picking one of the boxes up and heading over towards where the photo albums are, and I follow after him. ‘This one’s perfect!’ he says, pointing at one the same colour as the camera, and I nod, Jimin picking it up with a grin.

‘Right, let’s just double-check this list and see if there’s anything else we need,’ he says, getting the list out of his pocket again. ‘Hmm, we could buy some chalk to do number 4. And we can buy a shirt and markers to do number 5,’ he says, thinking aloud again, walking ridiculously quickly to where the art and school supplies section where the chalk and markers will be, before rushing off towards the clothes section, having me running around behind him.

Once we’ve picked out a plain white button-up dress shirt, we head over to the counter, Jimin chatting amicably with the cashier as I hang behind, surprised and slightly envious of his ability to speak to strangers like they’re close friends. ‘Would you mind doing us a favour?’ Jimin asks, and the cashier nods instantly, scanning through the shirt. ‘Can you sign this shirt? Just, like, with your name and your… job, I guess. We, um, we’re doing a project,’ Jimin says with a grin at me, and the cashier nods again, looking a little confused as Jimin hands her a marker from the pack. She writes ‘Soojung –supermarket cashier’, before handing Jimin the marker back with a grin.

‘Have you got film for this camera?’ Soojung asks as she scans it through, and Jimin looks to me, both of us exchanging an embarrassed glance. ‘No, but it’d probably help,’ I say frankly, and Jimin nods with a laugh. ‘I’ll go and grab them for you,’ the cashier says, getting up and running off. ‘We could’ve gone and gotten it, she didn’t have to,’ I say, and Jimin grins. ‘Perks of being a nice person – people do things for you that they don’t have to,’ he says pointedly, and I scowl at him. ‘Was that a dig?’ I demand, and he grins even wider. ‘Not at all, my dear, y/n,’ he says, throwing an arm around my shoulders, and I roll my eyes in response, the cashier reappearing with a couple boxes of film.

‘Do you want just the one or…?’ ‘We’ll take both,’ Jimin replies, the cashier nodding, scanning them through. ‘Gonna make some summer memories?’ the cashier asks, and we exchange another glance, a small smile playing at Jimin’s lips when he replies, ‘something like that, yeah.’

‘Okay, let’s have another look at this list,’ Jimin says once we’re seated in the back corner of his favourite coffee shop, pulling the list out of his pocket and reading it through. ‘So you’ve already made a new friend. Me. We’ve got the chalk for number four, and a shirt and markers for number 5. I should sign the shirt, right?’ he says, and I nod, thinking this’ll be easier if I let him do what he wants, and he grins, writing ‘Park Jimin - y/n’s fabulously beautiful assistant and school friend’. I raise an eyebrow, and he raises one back, challenging me to say something, but I just shake my head with a small smile.

‘Let’s look at the rest of them. Number 2, dyeing your hair… I have a trillion boxes of dye at home, that’s easy. Number 3, go on a road trip… we can do that, and tick off the others as we do it. Number 4, pavement chalk, we can do with Taehyung on his and Namjoon’s driveway because Tae’s good at art and their driveway is huge. Number 5, get everyone to sign a shirt, won’t be difficult, we just have to remember. Number 6, have s’mores at a bonfire… let me think about that one. Number 7,’ he begins, before looking up at me with a smirk, and I roll my eyes, a little embarrassed.

‘Don’t laugh. It’s something that so many people have done, and I never have,’ I say defensively, his mouth falling open. ‘You’ve never gotten drunk?’ he asks jokingly, and I laugh despite myself. ‘No, idiot, I’ve never skinny-dipped, but I’m pretty sure I’ll only have the courage to do it if I’m drunk,’ I say, and he nods, looking at me thoughtfully. ‘You can leave me with that one too, I’ll think about it.

Number 8, make a wish balloon, that’s easy. Number 9, go to a fairground… that may be a bit more difficult, but I’ll get it done. Number 10, have a picnic, easy. Number 11, get a tattoo, ooh, that’s fun. I know the perfect place. Number 12, go to a drive-in movie… difficult, but I’ll find a way. Number 13, cloud watch, super easy. Number 14, try camping for the first time, that’s easy too. Number 15, water fight… that’s easy as well. Number 16, homemade ice cream, easy. Number 17, pyjama day, even easier. Number 18, send a message in a bottle… should be easy. Number 19, run through sprinklers… shouldn’t be too hard. I hope. Number 20, stargaze and fall asleep under the stars, should be easy enough. And Number 21 is well under way already,’ he says with a grin.

The photo album already has two pictures in it; one of Jimin and I smiling and squinting in the sunlight, and one of us with the cashier, who looks a little awkward, but it’s fine. Nothing will be more awkward than telling her we’re trying to tick off a summer bucket list within a few days because I’m going to die soon. I was right – Jimin has a serious habit of oversharing.

‘Hi, welcome to the Sweetbrew. I’m Yoongi, I’ll be your server. What can I get you?’ a barista says, sounding like he wants to die, his entire face hidden behind a menu. ‘Yoongi,’ Jimin says, snatching the menu to reveal a boy with porcelain skin, mint green hair and brown eyes. I recognise him as one of Jimin’s best friends from school – Min Yoongi.

He was always one of the quieter members of their friendship group. Not shy, but more calm and laidback – it was easy to seem like that when surrounded by his friends, every single one of them having been big and loud characters. But he was just like the rest of them in that he was definitely popular, and desirable too. Everyone saw him as this sensitive and kind boy, his passion for music reinforcing that even more, and there was always somebody that was crushing on him, his look unique and intriguing. And he’s only gotten better looking since school, more mature and manly, yet still with the soft and delicate features that he had back then.

‘Oh, Jimin. Hey,’ he says, sounding a little more lively, before he turns to look at me. ‘Ah, y/n, right? From school?’ he asks, and I’m surprised at how quick he recognises me. ‘I told the group chat about you. Sorry,’ Jimin says, and my eyes widen, Yoongi sitting in the spare seat at our table. ‘What? When?’ I ask, and he grins. ‘While you got distracted playing with that puppy outside the supermarket,’ he says, and I frown.

‘Did you tell them everything?’ ‘No. Well, nearly everything. I told them what we’re doing, but I didn’t say why. Obviously,’ he says, and I fix him with a glare. ‘Oh, it’s okay to tell a random shop worker, but not your best friends?’ I ask, Yoongi shooting him a look too. ‘Not cool, Park,’ Yoongi says, and Jimin scowls. ‘I already apologised for that. I have a serious problem with oversharing,’ he says, Yoongi and I exchanging a glance as we chorus, ‘we know.’

‘Why are you doing this? If you don’t mind me asking,’ Yoongi asks, curiosity in his eyes, and I sigh. ‘I’ve got a brain tumour, so I’ve got, like, a week left to live,’ I say bluntly, Yoongi’s mouth falling open. ‘Oh. Oh, God, I’m so sorry, y/n, that’s awful,’ he says, sounding a little awkward, but I wave him off. ‘It’s fine. I’ve already gone through the five stages, and am now sufficiently distracted from my impending demise by your stupid friend,’ I say, Jimin scowling.

‘Well, at least he can make up for being stupid by helping you tick off your list. Anyway, you guys want drinks or you just chilling?’ Yoongi asks, and Jimin looks to me to answer. ‘I could do with a drink.’ ‘What would you like, y/n?’ Yoongi asks, and I hesitate, not quite sure. ‘Um… I don’t know. Jimin, what do you have?’ I ask, but Jimin already looks like he’s cooking up a scheme. ‘What fruits do you like, y/n?’ he asks me, and I think for a moment before answering, ‘berries, pineapple, mango, kiwi, peach. I like everything.’

Yoongi and Jimin exchange a glance, talking without words, and Yoongi nods before disappearing into the back. ‘Anyway. We need to get Yoongi to sign your shirt before we leave, remember. And then… we can go to Tae and Joon’s to do pavement chalk. And we should be able to make the ice cream at Tae and Joon’s too. Then we can go and pick up stuff from our houses before we go on the road trip,’ he says, and I hold up a hand.

‘We’re gonna have to go to mine before we go to Taehyung and Namjoon’s, because I’ve left Coco with the neighbour. I told her I’d only be a couple hours and it’s already been… nearly four,’ I say, Jimin nodding, and I can practically see his mind working. ‘We can get Coco and take her to theirs, and she can play with Tan while we get on with ticking things off. And then we can take her on the road trip with us the next day,’ he says, and I nod, getting more and more excited with his ideas.

‘Are you gonna drop me home tonight and then pick me up in the morning?’ I ask, and he thinks. ‘How about… we sleep over at Tae and Joon’s? You can get all your stuff when we go now, and then we’ll be able to leave first thing in the morning,’ he suggests, but I’m sceptical. ‘Won’t they mind?’ I ask, and he shakes his head instantly. ‘They’re so chill about this kinda stuff. They really won’t mind. We all sleep over at their house all the time because it’s the biggest. There’s more than enough space,’ he says, obviously trying hard to convince me, and I nod. There’s no point worrying about intruding at their house when their best friend seems to be the most intruding person in history.

Jimin looks back down at the list, thinking hard, and I smile to myself. It’s sweet that he’s putting so much effort in to try and tick off this list, even though we barely know each other. The most we ever said to each other at school would’ve been ‘d’you have a spare pen?’ or ‘can you pass me the bottle opener?’

Yoongi reappears after a couple minutes with two plastic cups in his hands, the drinks within them vibrant pink and orange. ‘I call this one… ‘y/n’s summer bucket list’. I put in the syrups for all the fruits you named and a lot of sugar and ice,’ he says, putting them down with a flourish, my heart warming as I smile at him. ‘Thank you. It looks amazing,’ I say, taking a sip, my eyes widening as the flavours explode in my mouth. ‘And it tastes amazing too,’ Jimin says, having already taken a (large) gulp.

‘I’m not the best barista here for nothing. But, y/n, you gotta take the credit. It is named after you,’ Yoongi says, and I roll my eyes with a smile. ‘Get out of here. But, for real, it tastes great, Yoongi,’ I say, the boy giving me the cutest gummy smile, and then I notice Jimin fiddling around with the camera. ‘What are you trying to do?’ I ask, stifling a laugh, and he sighs defeatedly. ‘Take a picture of us with your drink,’ he says, and I hold back a smile, ‘get someone else to take it.’

He ropes in an innocent woman sat beside us with her friend, and she takes a while to focus the camera on us and get the three of us in frame, but when the photo develops, it’s pretty good. ‘Perfect. Right, let’s head back and get Coco,’ Jimin says, and I hold out a hand. ‘Wait. Yoongi, will you sign this shirt?’ I ask, and he looks a little confused. Nevertheless, he signs it as ‘Min Yoongi – creator of the iconic ‘y/n’s summer bucket list’ drink and y/n’s school friend’.

Jimin looks thoughtful as we rise from our seats, and I side-eye him. I’ve noticed that a little bit of panic appears in my chest when I see that look on his face. ‘Yoongi, you busy tonight?’ Jimin asks, and Yoongi shakes his head. ‘I’m never busy,’ he says, and I stifle a laugh. ‘When d’you get off work?’ ‘4.’ ‘Come ‘round to Tae and Joon’s. I got an idea,’ Jimin says cryptically, wiggling his eyebrows at me, and I give him a look.

‘Okay. See you guys later then,’ Yoongi says before turning to head into the back. ‘Wait. Don’t we need to pay?’ I ask, and Yoongi smiles at me, a little sadness behind the expression. ‘It’s on the house. I might even speak to the manager about getting this drink put on the menu,’ he says, and I smile at him, trying to ignore the tears in my eyes. ‘Good idea. Thanks, Yoongi. See you later,’ I say, Jimin bidding him goodbye as he disappears into the back. ‘Okay,’ Jimin turns to look at me with a grin, ‘let’s go get Coco.’

‘Oh, y/n. Oh, my angel, I’m so sorry,’ Mrs Choi says for the eleventh time, dabbing at her eyes with her handkerchief, and I smile sadly. ‘It’s okay, Mrs Choi,’ I say, not sure what else to say, when Jimin appears at my elbow. ‘Everything’s in the car now, so whenever you’re ready,’ he says with a grin as he hands me the house keys, Mrs Choi looking him up and down. ‘Oh, Mrs Choi, this is Jimin… an old school friend. Jimin, this is Mrs Choi, my lovely neighbour who my dog likes more than me,’ I say, Mrs Choi laughing as Jimin shakes her hand, bowing his head politely.

‘Oh, don’t be silly, y/n, Coco adores you. He cries whenever you leave him with me,’ she says, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘And then cries when I come to pick him up,’ I point out, and she waves a hand dismissively. ‘It’s because I feed him so much,’ Mrs Choi says, and I laugh, Coco appearing in the doorway behind her. He comes bounding up to me, my heart filling as he rests his front paws on my leg, and I bend down to pick him up. ‘Hi, baby. You okay?’ I say, showering him in kisses, and ducking away when he tries to lick my face. I hate when he licks my makeup off.

‘That is the cutest dog ever,’ Jimin says, and I hold Coco out to him. He instantly takes him into his arms, and giggles when he licks the tip of his nose. Coco leaps out of his arms, and he panics, trying to catch him, but he does it all the time, bounding around the front garden. ‘Here,’ Mrs Choi says, handing Jimin the little tennis ball she keeps beside the door for when she plays with Coco. He instantly throws it and Coco bounds after it, running straight back to him with it in his mouth.

‘He’s handsome,’ Mrs Choi observes quietly so Jimin can’t hear, and I roll my eyes. ‘And doesn’t he know it?’ ‘Are you… and him…?’ ‘Oh, God, no. I… there’s a list of things I wanted to do this summer, and he’s helping me get through it all before I...’ I trail off, and she nods, blinking furiously, obviously trying not to cry. ‘That’s lovely of him. Make sure you take lots of pictures to show me,’ she says, and I grin. ‘We’ve already started a photo album. Actually. Hold on,’ I say, getting the camera out of my bag as Jimin bends down to pet Coco who jumps on him, the unexpectedness making him fall onto his back. I get a really cute picture of him lying down, laughing, with Coco on his chest, trying to lick his face.

‘Lovely. Well, I’ll let you get to it. But make sure you come to see me again before… well, when you get back from ticking off your list,’ she says, pulling me into a hug, and I screw my eyes shut, trying my hardest not to cry in front of her. She’s been like a mother figure to me since I moved out of my parents’ house, always coming over to check if I’m okay, bringing me food and inviting me around at least once a week, looking after Coco whenever I need her to. I’m heartbroken that I’m going to be leaving a hole in her life when I go.

‘I will. See you later, Mrs Choi,’ I say, pulling away from her, and we exchange a sad smile. ‘See you, y/n. Be careful, dear, and have fun,’ she says sadly, pressing a kiss to my cheek, giving me one last long look before she disappears into her house. I don’t blame her; I’d be struggling to deal if I were in her position.

‘Okay. Let’s go,’ I call to Jimin who’s sat cross legged on the floor, Coco running towards him with the ball and dropping it beside him. Jimin’s standing when I reach them and he hands me the ball, Coco’s eyes never leaving it. ‘Do you want Coco to sit on my lap or do you mind him sitting in the back?’ I ask, as we walk towards his car, and he shrugs. ‘He can sit in the back, I don’t mind,’ he says, and I pull open the back door, putting the ball in there, and Coco leaps in without hesitation. I shut the door behind him before climbing into the passenger seat, Jimin already sat in the driver’s seat.

‘You ready?’ he says excitedly as he starts the engine, putting on the radio which is currently playing Justin Bieber. ‘Yep. Let’s do this,’ I say, sneaking one last look at Mrs Choi’s house. And then it hits me. This might be the last time I look at her house. I might die before I get to see her again.

My body goes cold all over, tears prickling in my eyes as my throat constricts painfully. It just repeats in my head again and again; ‘I’m going to die. I’m going to die. I’m going to die. I’m going to die.’

Coco realises I’m upset before Jimin does, and he begins to whine from the backseat. ‘Is Coco okay?’ I hear Jimin’s voice distantly, and when I don’t reply, I hear him coo, ‘Coco? What’s the matter, boy?’ And then he looks over at me.

‘Oh,’ he breathes out, instantly pulling over. ‘y/n,’ he says gently, reaching out to take one of my hands, and the second his skin touches mine, I burst into tears. He shuffles as close as he can, the gearstick separating us, and he leans across the gap, pulling me into his arms. I sob into his shoulder, letting him hold me as the tears come in an endless flood, whispering the words ‘I’m going to die’ every few seconds.

Once I’ve calmed down (and feel ridiculously uncomfortable in the position we’re in), I gently push away from him, and he releases me, still holding one of my hands in his. ‘Sorry,’ I whisper, and he frowns. ‘Don’t apologise. You’re allowed to be upset. Like, you’re going to die, for God’s sake; you can cry about that. Cry as much as you want, you’re entitled to do so. Just… tell me when you’re upset so I don’t say something stupid,’ he says ruefully, a small laugh falling from my lips, and he grins.

‘It’s just… it’s not fair. There’s still so much I wanted to do with my life. I’ll never work in my dream job. There are so many beautiful places I’ll never get to see. Tokyo, Mexico, Portugal, Bali, Dubai, India, Australia, Brazil, Hawaii, The Caribbean, The Maldives, Greece, Morocco. So many things that everyone does that I’ll never get a chance to do. Fall in love, get married, have a family. I’ve never even been in a relationship,’ I say with a harsh laugh, and Jimin sighs.

‘You’re right, y/n. It’s not fair, it’s not fair at all. You deserve so much more, so much better. You’ve been robbed of the rest of your life. You’re allowed to be angry. I’m angry,’ he says so simply, and it feels as though his words just… make it all okay. It’s hard to explain, but they feel like a consolation. They make me feel like the way I’m feeling isn’t me just being irrational, or a spoiled brat, because I know that it could be worse. They make me feel like I’m justified in my thoughts and feelings. And that’s what I need right now.

‘Thank you,’ I say, sniffling a little, and he smiles at me. ‘You’re most welcome, y/n. Now. Are you ready to go to Tae and Joon’s or would you like to cry for a little longer?’ he says teasingly, and I laugh, shoving him gently. ‘Drive, you moron,’ I say, and he gasps as he starts up the car, a small grin playing at his lips as he says, ‘Moron? I’m about to give you the summer of a lifetime in four days. Do you think a moron could do that? No, of course they couldn’t.’

‘y/n! Oh, my God, girl, it’s so good to see you!’ Taehyung exclaims the second I open the car door, running over from the front door and throwing his arms around me. I was always a little closer to Taehyung than I was to Jimin, because we had quite a few classes together. I hug him back, my face practically smushed against his chest as he holds me in a bone-crushingly tight embrace.

‘Hey, Taehyung. How have you been?’ I ask as he releases me, his hands still on my shoulders. He holds me at arm’s length, looking me up and down, before an appreciative grin spreads across his face. I hold back from pointing out that he still has the same adorable boxy smile from high school. And then I register his bright blue hair, stifling a laugh at how eccentric he still is. ‘I’m good. You got hot, y/n!’ he exclaims, and I feel blood rushing to my face from embarrassment.

‘Thank you. But look at you! You’re so handsome, Tae,’ I grin, and he grins back with a little wink. Everything about him is just as appealing as back then. Tae was definitely a ladies’ man… and a men’s man too. He was loud and bubbly, his personality easily grabbing the attention of everyone in any room, and his laugh was crazy infectious. He was the perfect mix of cute and hot, and he’s only gotten hotter, with his manly features and strong build.

‘Thank you, babe. Come in, come in. Jimin, do you need a hand with the bags? No? Good,’ he says, not even waiting for an answer from Jimin before he drags me up towards the house, the other boy muttering behind us as I hear him pop the boot open.

The second I step over the threshold, a ball of fluff appears and begins yapping at me from behind Tae, and he bends down to pick it up. ‘y/n, this is my beloved son, Kim Yeontan, or Tannie for short,’ Taehyung says, introducing me to his little Pomeranian, who has now quietened down and is staring at me with a curious look in his eyes. ‘Hi, Tannie,’ I coo at the dog, reaching a hand out to stroke his head, and he lets me with a contented little growl low in his throat.

‘Ah, he likes you! He rarely likes strangers. Little coward,’ Taehyung says affectionately as I slip off my shoes, Jimin appearing in the doorway with my bag (a suitcase, actually – yes, I might be dying soon, but I wanna make sure I look good when I do, so I had to bring plenty of clothes) in one hand, and Coco in the other. And then the barking match starts.

Coco and Yeontan incessantly yowl and woof at each other, both of them scrabbling to get out of Jimin and Tae’s arms. And then Taehyung puts Tan down, and Tan instantly shuts up, hiding behind his dad’s legs. Jimin does the same, putting Coco down, and he tries to get Jimin to pick him up again. ‘They’re both cowards,’ I mutter with a smile as Taehyung leads us down the front hallway, Yeontan trotting along beside him as I follow behind, Coco hanging back with Jimin as he takes his shoes off and shuts the front door.

We enter the kitchen, and if it wasn’t clear from the outside of the house, it’s made clear now; this house is beautiful, and expensive. It’s roomy and spacious, modern and clean, with classy and tasteful furnishings. ‘I love your house, Tae. It’s so nice, and I love the way you’ve decorated,’ I say, and he beams at me, eyes nearly disappearing behind their lids. ‘Thank you, y/n. It was all me – Joon has no sense of decoration,’ he says, sounding genuinely touched, and Jimin raises an eyebrow at me as he walks in. ‘Look at you sucking up,’ he mutters with a grin, and Tae and I both shoot him dirty looks.

‘You want something to drink, y/n? Before we get started on the chalk?’ he asks, and I shake my head. ‘I’m okay, thank you,’ I reply, but he’s already distracted with the list that Jimin’s put in front of him on the marble island counter. ‘Ooh, so this is the list? Let’s have a look,’ he says before reading it intently. Once he’s done, his eyes flit up to me, before flitting back down to the page.

‘Don’t take offence to this, okay?’ he says, and I already brace myself for a mocking remark. ‘Some of this stuff is, like, basic teenager stuff. How have you not done all of this already?’ he asks softly, and I feel a little embarrassed. ‘I don’t know, I just… after high school, I drifted from the girls – I still talk to them every now and then, but it isn’t the same – and I didn’t really… make any new friends to do these kind of things with. I have my work friends, but the most I’ve ever done with them is a night out. And in high school, I guess I was… too cautious and too scared to join in on these kind of things. We went on a group trip to the beach – I was the only one that didn’t skinny dip. The end of school prank was dyeing our hair in the school toilets – I was the one of the only ones that didn’t dye mine. Everyone planned a camping trip together – I didn’t go. I was, and still am, a little… uptight, I guess? I wanted to change that this summer, but…’ I trail off, and Tae surprises me by nodding sadly.

‘Jimin told me on the phone while you were talking to your neighbour,’ he says, and I shoot Jimin a look. ‘I thought it’d be better if you didn’t have to keep telling people!’ he exclaims defensively, and I nod with a roll of my eyes, thinking his reasoning is fair enough. ‘I’m really sorry, y/n. There’s not much someone can say in these kind of situations, but I just want you to know that I’m so sorry, and that it’s so unfair,’ he says gently, and I smile sadly. ‘Thank you. I appreciate that.’

‘Now, anyway. Shall we get on with this list? I know Jimin said that we can start with chalk and ice cream, but…’ Tae says, voice a lot more cheerful as he sidles over to me, twisting a lock of my hair around his finger, ‘I think we should dye your hair first.’ ‘Dye it?’ I say, lifting a hand to pat my hair protectively, having not yet worked up the courage. ‘Yep. I have trillions of box dyes upstairs – you can choose any colour you like,’ he says, and I look over at Jimin who grins, nodding encouragingly.

A few minutes later, I’m sat on a stool in Tae’s lavish bathroom, a towel resting over my shoulders as I inspect the boxes laid out on the counter in front of me, Taehyung and Jimin stood behind me as Coco and Tan play in Tae’s bedroom (they seem to be the best of friends now). ‘I’m thinking I shouldn’t go too wild considering it’ll be my funeral in a little while and my parents will probably want an open casket,’ I say musingly, Taehyung choking on air as Jimin holds back a smile.

‘Good idea. Maybe… highlights or ombre rather than the whole head?’ Jimin suggests, and I nod, feeling a little more at ease at not having to take the full plunge. ‘Okay… what colour then?’ Taehyung asks, and I look at all the colours. ‘Um… I don’t know. It’s really difficult,’ I say a little timidly, both boys nodding reassuringly, trying to give me a little more confident. ‘You’re right, it is difficult. How about… two platinum blonde streaks at the front of your hair?’ Taehyung asks, and I nearly choke.

‘Blonde streaks… like an e-girl?’ I ask, and Tae laughs, nodding. ‘It’s on trend, and I think you’ll be able to pull it off really well,’ Tae says thoughtfully, and whilst I’m still not convinced, Jimin nods excitedly. ‘Yes, that’d look amazing! Go on, y/n, you should!’ Jimin urges, eyes locked with mine in the mirror, and I sigh before nodding with a small smile. ‘Why not? Go for it,’ I say, the two of them exchanging a grin.

Before I know it, the front sections of my hair have been bleached and foiled, and a timer has been set for 20 minutes. And Jimin is contemplating dyeing his own hair. ‘I mean, I’ve had black for so long, and I need a change, right? I’ve been wanting to go bright for a while. But do I go a natural bright, or a colourful bright?’ he muses, Tae fake yawning at him in the mirror, coaxing a giggle from me, but Jimin doesn’t notice, too busy inspecting the dye boxes.

‘If it helps, I liked it when you went blond at school. You look nice blond,’ I say, and he looks at me in the mirror with a thoughtful look in his eyes. ‘Bright blond, or platinum blond, or dirty blond?’ he asks, and I think for a moment before answering, ‘bright blond.’ ‘Okay, let’s go bright blond then,’ he says instantly, disappearing off to get a towel from Tae’s airing cupboard.

‘That was… interesting,’ Tae says with a smirk at me in the mirror, and I look back at him confusedly. ‘How so?’ ‘He never takes anyone’s advice when it comes to his hair dye. And he never decides that quick,’ he says, his smirk even wider, but Jimin reappears before I can reply. I try to shake off Tae’s words as Jimin looks for the right box dye.

‘Maybe I should dye my hair too,’ Tae says, looking at his blue locks in the mirror. ‘I like you with brown hair, Tae. I’d like it if you had brown hair at my funeral,’ I say, and his eyes widen slightly at the mention of it again. ‘Yeah, I think that’s a good idea. We should all have natural colours for the funeral, out of respect,’ Jimin says, and I frown. ‘No, I don’t mind if you guys had the craziest colours ever. I just think you look so… classically handsome with brown hair, Tae,’ I say, and he looks smug at my compliment. ‘Okay,’ he grins, reaching for a box dye, Jimin and I exchanging a look in the mirror as he says, ‘guess I’m going brown then.’

‘When did you go brown, Tae? And you blond, Jimin?’ a voice suddenly says, making all three of us jump. There’s a man stood on Taehyung’s front garden, and I remember him as Jung Hoseok from school. He was cute back then, but he’s handsome now with his golden skin and his silky brown hair. ‘About… 90 minutes ago,’ Taehyung says, currently drawing what looks like a heart but could also be an alien, and Hoseok nods as though it’s perfectly normal.

‘Hey, y/n. Your hair looks nice,’ Hoseok says, shooting a heart-shaped smile at me, and I smile back. I’m still not used to my hair being blonde when it falls into my face, but it does look nice – Tae and Jimin did a good job. ‘Hey, Hoseok. Thank you. Tae and Jimin did it.’ ‘Please, call me Hobi. Anyway, how are you?’ he says before wincing, obviously already aware of my situation. Jimin really can’t keep his mouth shut. ‘I’m okay. How are you?’ I ask, and he nods, replying, ‘I’m good. Excited to work on this list.’ ‘Well, get some chalk and get your ass down here to help us,’ Jimin says from where he’s sprawled out on the gravel, drawing a dog (or attempting to, anyway).

We’ve been working on the chalk for just over an hour, listening to music from Taehyung’s speaker that’s sat in the doorway (Coco and Tan have already knocked it over several times whilst they’ve been playing). Bright chalk covers nearly all of Taehyung and Namjoon’s driveway – except for where Tae and Jimin’s cars are – rainbows, flowers, hearts, clouds surrounding us (as well as a bunny, a pineapple, a unicorn, a slice of watermelon and Jimin’s dog).

‘It looks like you’re nearly done,’ Hoseok observes, and I nod, wiping my forehead clean of sweat. ‘Yeah, we are. This isn’t as fun as I thought it was going to be,’ I say frankly, the others all laughing. ‘The fun comes from taking pictures with the chalk,’ Taehyung says, and I get up instantly. ‘Okay, let’s just take pictures and then carry on with the list,’ I say, the three of them laughing again as Jimin and Taehyung get up from the floor.

Taehyung instantly goes into director mode, making me lie down in a gap in the chalk. Jimin stands over me, one foot on either side of my waist, taking pictures on both the camera and his phone whilst Taehyung directs him on how to take them and me on how to pose, Hobi using his phone torch to give us better lighting (it doesn’t make much of a difference, but he’s trying).

I start to feel a little embarrassed, wondering what we must look like to Tae’s neighbours, before I remember that life is short – mine especially – so I should make the most of it without worrying what people think of me. After a few minutes (and a few dozen pictures), I get into it a little more, and the boys all begin hyping me up, Jimin making a few flirty comments here and there.

And then Jimin joins me, Taehyung taking the camera and Hobi directing us (he’s even more… bossy than Taehyung, instructing us down to the simplest things – the positions of our fingers, the direction we look in, the angle of our heads. Everything.)

‘You guys are gonna make her regret asking for help,’ a voice comes from the driveway, all of us looking over to see Namjoon and Jungkook from school stood there, leaning against the Jimin’s car. ‘Watch the car!’ Jimin exclaims, both of them heading over. ‘Just for the record, I didn’t ask for help. Jimin forc- I mean, Jimin volunteered his help,’ I say, correcting myself when he shoots me a dirty look, the others laughing.

‘It’s good to see you guys again. Did you walk here?’ I ask, and Namjoon nods. ‘It’s good to see you too. Jungkook picked me up from work, and then we dropped his car off and walked here. We all live really close to each other. Jimin, Jungkook and Hobi live on the road up there, and Jin and Yoongi live on the road down that way,’ Namjoon points, and I nod, thinking how sweet it is that they all live so close together.

‘JK, the blue’s gonna have to go,’ Tae says to the baby of their group. He’s changed more than all of them; he still has his big eyes and his cute bunny teeth, but that’s where the similarities end. He’s so handsome, and his body is lean and tall. Not as tall as Namjoon, though; he always was tall, but he’s grown even more now, and he’s gorgeous, with his dimples and blond hair. It’s like only beautiful people are allowed in their friendship group.

‘What?’ Jungkook asks, confused, his eyes wide. ‘You need to dye your hair brown again,’ Tae says, Jungkook frowning. ‘Why? I’ve only been blue for a couple days. Don’t you like it?’ ‘It looks great, but we’re all going natural out of respect, for y/n’s funeral,’ Jimin says casually, Jungkook choking and Namjoon slapping his back with wide eyes. ‘Jimin. You can’t just drop it in like that,’ Hobi reprimands, but I wave it off. ‘It’s fine, I’d prefer if we just spoke about it normally. Anyway, you don’t have to go brown, Jungkook, it’s okay,’ I say, Jungkook nodding, still looking a little shell-shocked.

‘Can we get up now?’ I say to Hobi from where I’m lying on the floor, shoulder-to-shoulder with Jimin, and he shakes his head. ‘If you want to make a scrapbook, you can’t just have pictures of you and Jimin in it. You need to get pictures with all of us,’ he says simply, and I bite my tongue, knowing I’ll just have to suck it up. Twenty minutes later, I’ve taken several pictures with all of the boys, and it was a little fun, I guess. We’ll have run out of film by the end of the day at this rate.

But my head’s starting to hurt a little, and I know I can’t take anymore. ‘Can we stop now? I’ve got a bit of a headache,’ I say, sitting up, and they all look a little worried. ‘Is it from being under the sun for so long?’ Hobi asks, nervously, but Tae speaks before I can reply; ‘no, it’s probably the hair dye.’ Jimin looks at them both incredulously. ‘I think it’s the tumour in her brain,’ he says slowly, and I can’t help but share his exasperation at their stupid suggestions, the boys all falling into a shocked silence as Jimin looks to me with thinly-veiled amusement.

‘Yeah, I think you’re right, Jimin, it probably is,’ I say, holding back a laugh. ‘Do you want some painkillers?’ Tae asks weakly, and I smile, shaking my head. ‘I’m okay, thanks. I might just have a little lie-down, if that’s okay?’ I ask, Tae nodding straight away. ‘I’ll show you to one of the guest rooms and you can have a shower, or a nap, if you want?’ Tae suggests as Hobi and Jimin help me up, my head dizzy and light, and I nod. ‘That sounds perfect.’

I blink in the slices of soft sunlight that fall between the blinds onto the bed, sitting up carefully. My head feels a lot better after that nap, which was the best nap of my life, by the way. Tae and Joon must be seriously rich, because this bed is the most comfortable bed I’ve ever slept in. And the room is super lavish, monochrome and clean, with a deep carpet and expensive looking furnishings. The bathroom was nice too, and I dragged out my shower a lot longer than usual, my skin smelling fresh with Tae and Namjoon’s expensive passionfruit body wash.

I slowly climb out of the bed, looking at myself in the floor to ceiling mirror on the wall opposite me. I still can’t get used to the hair, but it does look good. Tae has good taste, and he and Jimin put the dye in really well – the front sections of my hair are the perfect vibrant blonde. Tae put all these different haircare products in it after he washed out the dye, and it feels healthier than ever before. It’s obvious he’s dyed his hair plenty, because he’s clearly an expert. He could be a hairdresser if he wanted to.

I open my suitcase and get out a bralet to put on (my pyjamas are satin, and I’d rather not have my nipples visible through them in a room full of childhood friends I haven’t seen for years) and put it on beneath my black button-up pyjama shirt. I quickly splash some water over my face to wake myself up a little before I head downstairs, following the loud voices that lead me into the kitchen. Namjoon’s stood at the counter, making coffee, Jungkook, Jimin, Tae and Hobi sat around the breakfast bar with two new arrivals; Yoongi, and Seokjin. Seokjin literally hasn’t aged a day, and he’s somehow even more handsome than he was back then, with his plump lips and swept back dark hair.

‘Sleeping beauty awakes!’ Jimin exclaims when he sees me walk in, and I smile softly, still a little sleepy. His blond hair really does look good, the perfect summer colour, and Tae’s looks really good too – the dark brown locks make him look like a model. ‘y/n! They were right, you really are gorgeous!’ Jin exclaims, jumping up and pulling me into a hug, and I try to supress the embarrassment I’m feeling at them talking about me, and telling Jin I’m gorgeous. One thing I remember about Jin was that he never used to feel embarrassed, at anything. Sometimes he’d get a little shy, and his ears would go red, but he’d never hesitate to do something, even if it was embarrassing, if it would help to ease any awkwardness and make people feel comfortable.

His hugging me, despite us barely speaking when we went to school together and not having seen each other for years, is just what I need, and a perfect example of how kind Jin is.

‘Thanks, Jin, but look at you! You’re really handsome,’ I say honestly, feeling at ease after his hug, and he grins at me. ‘You didn’t call me handsome, y/n, but you called Tae and Jin handsome,’ Jimin pouts, and I roll my eyes at him. ‘She knows Tae and I are the best-looking, that’s why,’ Jin says, and Jimin scowls at him before looking back at me, still waiting for an answer. ‘Just because I didn’t say it out loud, doesn’t mean I didn’t think it,’ I say matter-of-factly, and he grins proudly. ‘What about the rest of us?’ Hobi asks, all of them flashing smiles at me, and I blink a few times. ‘You’re all handsome. Now stop smiling at me before I faint,’ I say, all of them laughing.

‘Coffee, y/n?’ Namjoon asks, but I shake my head. ‘I’m trying to cut down on my caffeine intake. Thanks, though,’ I say, and Jimin frowns. ‘y/n, it’s not like it matters,’ Jimin says, everyone wincing, and I laugh, nodding in agreement. ‘You’re right. I will have some, please, Namjoon,’ I say, everyone laughing again as Namjoon nods with a smile, getting another mug out for me. ‘Sit down, y/n,’ Tae says, patting the empty seat between him and Jungkook, and I sit in it, feeling a little self-conscious. I’m in my pyjamas, with no makeup and slight bedhead, and they’re all just… so handsome.

‘What do you guys do? For you all to be at home at… 5.38 on a Wednesday?’ I say, reading the time on the clock. I have all of the boys on social media, so I vaguely know some of what goes on in their lives, but not much. It’s hard to keep track of everyone from school. ‘Um, I own my own photography business. We do photography for weddings, parties, photo shoots, etc. and we’ve had some pretty high-profile clients, so we’re quite successful. And I do some art on the side, and some of my paintings have sold well, hence the fancy house. I get to work from home most of the time, because I mainly do editing – I’ve hired photographers, but I do a couple weddings here and there,’ Tae says, and I’m impressed, though not surprised. Tae always did have a talent for art, and he was the photographer for the school newspaper, so this career is perfect for him.

‘I own my own dance studio, and we only open on Monday and Tuesday 6-9, Thursday 3-6, and then Saturdays and Sundays,’ Hoseok says and, again, I’m not surprised; Hoseok always loved his dancing and he put more effort into dance than into his school work, but I guess it paid off.

‘I work for Hobi and Tae. I teach classes every day that it’s open, and then I do some photography work every couple weeks. And I do some shifts here and there at a tattoo shop,’ Jungkook says, and I think it’s really cute that he works for his friends, though I wonder if it sparks any arguments between them. I look at Jimin when Jungkook mentions the tattoo shop, and Jimin grins with a little nod, my stomach turning. Obviously, he was referring to where Jungkook works when he said he knew the perfect place for me to get a tattoo.

‘I do all the finances and admin and paperwork for Tae and Hobi, and I work for a small record label, producing and rapping,’ Namjoon says as he puts my coffee down in front of me, and I thank him with a smile, quite surprised to hear Namjoon’s career choice. To be fair, Namjoon excelled in all of his subjects, so he’d be good at whatever he chose to do.

‘I’m a part-time chef at this restaurant in the city, and I’m also studying to become an actor,’ Jin says, and I’m impressed. I didn’t know Jin was interested in cooking or in acting, but now that I look at him, he really does look like an actor, and I could imagine him as a chef too, with one of those big white hats.

‘I’m a barista, as you know, I teach a couple piano lessons a week, and I do some rapping and producing at the same company as Namjoon,’ Yoongi explains, and I remember how good he was at piano. He was chosen to play at one of these awards’ evenings we had at school, and we were all so impressed at how good he was. Rapping, though? I never knew he could rap.

Everyone looks at Jimin to answer, but he looks back blankly before saying, ‘I already told her my job.’ They all nod before looking back at me. ‘What do you do, y/n?’ Jin asks, and I roll my eyes. ‘I work part-time as an assistant at a law firm, and I’m studying to become a lawyer. Or I was anyway,’ I trail off, a little sad that I’ll never be able to do my dream job, and the boys all give me pitying looks. Except for Jimin, who says, ‘damn, y/n, you’re clever. Law student, huh?’ I nod with a smile, and he grins. ‘You could’ve got in on the family businesses, and done all the boring legal shit for us,’ Jimin says, and I grimace, internally endeared at him calling them the family businesses. ‘I’d have passed. Sorry,’ I say, the boys all laughing.

‘Okay, enough chit chat. Let’s carry on with your list,’ Jin says, picking it up from where it sits in the middle of the island, and I take a sip of my coffee. ‘Should I wash the chalk from your driveway?’ I ask Tae and Joon, and they both shake their heads. ‘I was about to, but Jin stopped me. He wants some pictures with you and the chalk,’ Tae says, and I let out a sigh, all them laughing. ‘We’ve literally spent all of our time on the chalk so far. Your four days are gonna fly by,’ I say to Jimin, who waves it off with an easy grin.

‘Stop trying to worry me. Four days is plenty. You go take some pictures with Jin, and Yoongi, while I set up the next thing for us to tick off,’ Jimin says, getting up and pulling me off my seat, pushing me towards the door. ‘Make sure you get plenty of good pictures,’ Jimin says to Tae with a mischievous glance at me, who nods, and I roll my eyes. ‘We’re gonna run out of film,’ I say, but Jimin shakes his head with a grin. ‘I went out whilst you were asleep and got some more supplies, including a few more boxes of film,’ he grins, and I let out a deep sigh as Tae and Jin drag me outside, Yoongi trailing behind, and Jimin waving at us from the doorway.

‘Done with your photoshoot?’ Jimin asks as we walk into the living room. ‘Yes, thank God,’ I say, throwing myself down onto the sofa. ‘Jin, you’re way too demanding. We were out there for forty-five minutes,’ Yoongi says, flopping down next to me, and Jin scowls at us from the doorway. ‘Tae wasn’t getting my angles!’ he exclaims, and Tae’s eyes widen. ‘You’re not blaming this on me. I own a photography business, so don’t accuse me of being a bad photographer,’ Tae says, Jin opening his mouth to speak, but Jimin interrupts; ‘don’t argue. y/n’s dying.’

They go silent, and I burst out laughing as Jimin grins at me. ‘You can’t drop that into every conversation, Jimin,’ I laugh, the others relaxing a little, and Jimin shrugs. ‘I can. Just watch. Anyway, before you get comfy, we need to go into the dining room,’ he says vaguely with a knowing grin, and I narrow my eyes at him. ‘I don’t want to, because of that look on your face,’ I say suspiciously, and he laughs. ‘Come on, y/n, we gotta tick the next thing off your list,’ Jimin says amusedly, holding a hand out to me, and I take it after a moment of hesitation, letting him pull me up. He doesn’t let go of my hand, dragging me behind him into the dining room, and it takes a little while for me to register what’s going on.

The table is set up with these different machines, and Jungkook sits at the table with an empty seat beside him, a lamp set up to cast a bright light onto the empty chair. And then I spot the little book on the table, sat beside a bunch of needles lined up on a small white sheet.

Jungkook’s about to give me a tattoo.

‘Oh, hell no,’ I say, turning around, but Jimin grabs me around the waist before I can walk away, picking me up and carrying me over to the door as I struggle around in his arms, the other boys watching amusedly. But Jimin’s freakishly strong, and my struggling doesn’t work. He puts me down in the empty chair, and I pout at him before looking around at the others. Tae, Jin and Yoongi are stood in one doorway, blocking it, and Namjoon and Hobi stand in the other, blocking that too. I literally cannot leave, and when I look down at the needles, my stomach turns.

‘Do you want to look through the book?’ Jungkook asks gently, and I sigh. ‘Not really,’ I say, all of them laughing as he hands me the book, and I flip through it. ‘Can you all stop looking at me? Or at least put on some music so I don’t feel so tense,’ I say, more laughter rippling around the room as Taehyung gets his phone out of his pocket and taps the screen a couple times, gentle RnB music floating out into the room from the ceiling. They must have a built-in sound system – their house really is boujee.

I scan the book and some of the designs are cute, but none of them really stand out to me. ‘Struggling to choose one?’ Jungkook asks quietly, the others having conversations between themselves, and I nod. He rolls up his sleeve, and shows me the various tattoos that cover his arm and hand. He has a flower, a skeleton hand, the word ‘Truth’, the woozy emoji, a purple heart, a little crown and some black stripes with various numbers and letters on his hand. ‘They all stand for different things. Like, for example, this is the tiger flower, which is my birth flower, and the letters all stand for the guys. So you could get some that are meaningful to you, or you could just get something that you think looks pretty. It’s up to you,’ he says, and I nod, thinking.

I decide on getting my birth flower, a little bolt of lightning and my parents’ initials. ‘Why don’t you get something summer related?’ Jimin suggests softly, and I think before nodding. ‘Like… the sun, or something?’ I ask, and he shrugs. ‘Whatever you want. You could get a picture or a quote, anything you want. It’s up to you, y/n. It’s your body,’ he says, and I nod, thinking about the first idea I had for a tattoo when I wrote that list. ‘How about ‘we’ll always have summer’… or is that silly?’ I ask, and Jungkook shakes his head straight away.

‘Of course it isn’t silly,’ he says, but Jimin looks at me thoughtfully. ‘Who’s we?’ he asks, and I sigh. ‘I don’t know. A general ‘we’, I guess? Like… as bleak as life gets, as boring, as sad, as hard as life is, there’s always the hope, the promise, the excitement of summer. So no matter what happens, we’ll always have summer,’ I explain, Jungkook’s eyes widening, and Jimin nodding at me with a small smile. ‘Wow, that’s so deep, y/n. You’re so clever,’ Jungkook says, and I laugh, waving it off.

‘Have you decided yet?’ Hobi asks, and I nod, feeling a little nervous. ‘I’m getting my birth flower, a bolt of lightning, my parents’ initials, and ‘we’ll always have summer’. What do you think?’ I ask, and Hobi smiles, looking impressed. ‘You’re getting four?’ he asks, and I laugh. ‘Might as well.’ ‘Where do you want them?’ Jungkook asks, and I hesitate. ‘Where does it hurt least?’ ‘Your ass,’ Jimin says with a grin, and I swat at him whilst the others all laugh. ‘The least painful is usually your back, the outside of your arms, the inside of your forearm and the outsides of your thighs. Hands aren’t too bad, and nor are shoulders,’ Jungkook explains.

After a lot of deliberation, we make the decision as a group of where I should have them; birth flower on my inner forearm, my parents’ initials on my right ring finger, the lightning bolt on the side of my ribcage/side-boob, and the quote on the back of my left shoulder. ‘How long will it take, Jungkook?’ I ask as Jungkook sets up all his equipment, the others arguing about what we should have for dinner. ‘Please, call me JK, or Kook, or whatever. And, it shouldn’t take longer than a few hours, because they’re all quite small. The quote will take the longest, and I can usually do quotes in an hour and a half, so I’d say… three hours, maybe three and a half?’ he says, and I feel dread at the thought of being in pain for that long. But it’s fine. I’ll be fine.

‘Are you still not done?’ Taehyung demands as he enters the room, Jungkook’s eyes still fixed on my finger as he sighs. ‘Relax, I’m doing the last one now. I’ll be done in a few minutes,’ he says, and Tae huffs. ‘You’re taking ages. We want to do the next thing on her list.’ ‘Don’t rush me, Tae. Tattooing is an art,’ Jungkook says calmly, Tae rolling his eyes from behind Jungkook’s back, and I hold back a laugh.

It actually wasn’t that painful, surprisingly. The worst thing was having to stay still for so long. He started with my birth flower, and it was fascinating to watch the ink appear on my skin, at first. The fascination soon wore off, and I was itching to move, but I knew I’d just ruin it if I did.

Then he moved onto the quote. I had to tie my hair up into a bun and sit backwards on a chair whilst he did it, and Jimin fed me some of the Chinese food they’d ordered, keeping me entertained with his stupid antics. Jin tried to feed Jungkook, but when he choked Jungkook with a chopstick, Jungkook decided he’d just eat afterwards.

And then he did my lightning bolt. I had to take off my top and unclasp my bra, holding it in place with my arm out of the way so Jungkook could get to my side-boob easily, and I told the boys that none of them could come in whilst he was doing that one, because the bra kept slipping. Jungkook was very professional though, and I can’t even imagine how many boobs he’s seen over his time working as a tattoo artist.

And now he’s doing my fingers. I’m used to the stinging pain now, and I’m very proud of myself for not crying. Tae shows me some funny videos on his phone whilst Jungkook carries on with the tattoo. ‘And… done!’ he exclaims, sitting back in his chair with a sigh. I look at my hand, pleased with how the tattoo looks. ‘Thank you, JK, it’s great.’ ‘No problem. Right… let me give you the aftercare speech,’ he says as he begins to put the weird jelly stuff and a bandage onto my finger. It’s weird how professional he is – I saw him passed out drunk at house parties more times than I can remember, and now he’s giving me tattoos and telling me how to look after them properly.

‘Don’t remove these bandages for 24 hours, and when you do, wash the tattoos, gently, with an unscented soap and water, and pat it dry afterwards. Put on some of this ointment twice a day, if you can, but you don’t need to put on another bandage. Wash them a few times a day, gently, with unscented soap and water, and always pat them dry, and then put on an unscented sensitive skin moisturiser. Obviously, you’re going to tick those things off your bucket list, and I’m sure a couple involve being in the water and sun. We usually advise against being in the water and sun, but obviously, you’re not going to do that, so just don’t be in the sun for too long, and put plasters over them when you go in the water, to try and stop them being infected. It’s not really that big of a deal if they do get infected because…’ ‘I’m dying anyway.’ ‘Yeah, that. So don’t worry about it too much, but just try your best to be careful with them. Oh, and don’t go into hot water, if you can help it. Have cool showers, and not for too long, either. I think that’s it, but if you have any questions, just get my number from Jimin and text or call me. Do you have any questions now?’

‘Only one; would you rather I transferred you the money, or do you want cash?’ ‘y/n, don’t be ridiculous. I’m not charging you,’ he says as though it’s obvious, and I frown. ‘Jungkook.’ ‘No, y/n, I’m not taking money from you.’ ‘Why not? I haven’t got anything else to spend it on, remember? And it’s taken you ages!’ ‘It doesn’t matter. I’m not accepting any money from you, and that’s it. I do free tattoos for the boys all the time – Jimin’s got several from me. Just see it as a gift from an old friend,’ he says simply, with a grin, and I can’t help the small smile on my face. ‘Thank you, JK,’ I say, and he grins even wider, his cute little bunny teeth on display. ‘No problem, y/n.’

‘Are you done now? Can we move on to the next thing?’ Tae says excitedly, Jungkook nodding with a laugh at his eagerness. ‘Come on, then,’ Tae says, grabbing my hand and pulling me up, dragging me out of the dining room. He leads me towards the back door, pushing it open and moving aside to let me out first, and I gasp when I see the garden. ‘I know it’s not that big but it’s the best I could do,’ Jimin says as I slip on the sliders that he puts down on the floor in front of me, stepping out onto the light wood decking.

Tae and Namjoon’s garden is beautiful – it’s obvious at least one of the two loves gardening. The decking has steps down onto the grass which is healthy and neat, a dark, rich green, and there are trees and flowers of all different colours lining the light wood fence that runs around the garden. Fairy lights are strung up around the fence, casting a warm yellow glow across the space and there’s a fire pit in the middle of the garden, a small fire inside it with a garden furniture set placed around it, four armchairs and two two-seaters.

‘Oh, my God, this is great! Did you already have a fire pit?’ I ask Tae who shakes his head. ‘Jimin went out to buy one earlier,’ he says, and I look to Jimin with a frown. ‘You shouldn’t have. Let me give you the money for it,’ I say, and he shakes his head before I even finish speaking. ‘I don’t think so. Come on,’ he says, holding out an arm to me, and I take it with a begrudging smile. He leads me down the decking steps, across the grass to the bonfire and he sits down in an armchair as I sit in the two-seater beside it, Tae and JK following behind, the leftovers of the Chinese food in Jungkook’s hands.

‘Where are the others?’ I ask, and Jimin looks a little sheepish. ‘I, um, went to get supplies when you were sleeping, right? Well, I bought the fire pit, but I forgot all the other stuff,’ he explains, rubbing the back of his neck embarrassedly, and I hold back a laugh. ‘What other stuff?’ I ask, just as Jin and Hobi appear through the back door. ‘The biscuits, the chocolate, the marshmallows, the roasting sticks. Everything else,’ Jin says exasperatedly, the two of them coming to join us.

‘Where are the other two?’ Tae asks as they take their seats, Jin taking a prawn cracker from Jungkook’s lap, the boy shooting him a dirty look. ‘Putting the stuff onto plates for us, because a couple of us are too messy and, apparently, we’ll drop melted marshmallows and chocolate onto the grass and ruin it,’ Hobi says with a roll of his eyes, and I have a feeling he’s quoting Namjoon. ‘Am I wrong, though? There’s still the patch of grass that’s discoloured after Jimin spilled beer on it!’ Namjoon exclaims, holding blankets in his arms, Yoongi following behind with a tray in his hands, paper plates atop the tray. ‘How many times do I have to apologise for ruining your grass before you forget?’ Jimin asks tiredly as Namjoon and Yoongi take their seats, and Namjoon gives him a hard look. ‘As many times as it takes for the grass to return to its proper colour,’ Namjoon says, and I can feel an argument brewing so I quickly change the subject.

‘Shall we get a picture?’ I ask, not realising that another argument is about to start, over who’s going to take the picture. ‘Oh, my God, we’ve been arguing for five minutes! Just let me take the picture!’ Yoongi exclaims (after five minutes of arguing), his annoyance only half-hearted, and I pout. ‘No, Yoongi, I want you in the picture. I want us all in the picture,’ I say, Jin sighing and grabbing his temples before sending Namjoon to ask their nice neighbour, Mr Lee. I feel bad for disturbing him at 9.09pm on a Wednesday, but they insist. It’s more than a little awkward when he starts asking questions and Jimin says with a grin, ‘we’re ticking off y/n’s summer bucket list because she’s got a brain tumour and she’s going to die in a week.’ It’s like he can’t take the pictures quick enough after that, practically sprinting out of the garden once he’s done.

Yoongi gives us all our plates, Jungkook balancing his on one knee whilst he eats his Chinese food, and I feel pretty stupid when all of them instantly know how to put their s’mores together. ‘Have you never had s’mores before?’ Jimin asks, and I shake my head sheepishly. ‘Here, let me show you. You gotta just put a marshmallow on a stick,’ he says, and I copy the way he spears it on the stick. ‘Then you hold it over the fire for a little while, until it goes a bit brown, and then turn it over the other way,’ he says, holding his stick over the fire, and I do the same, turning it the other way once it’s browned a little. ‘And then you get a piece of chocolate and put it on top of a biscuit. And then you put the marshmallow on top of that. And then you put a piece of chocolate on top of the marshmallow, and another biscuit on top of the chocolate. Then you take it off the stick and… you got your s’more!’ he says, holding his s’more up with a flourish. It looks a lot neater than mine, but I’m still proud of myself for managing to not set fire to anything. ‘Just wait a little for it to cool down. Kook learned that the hard way,’ Jimin says pointedly, the other boy pursing his lips embarrassedly as we all laugh.

The sky is still high and light with clouds, though the sun has disappeared over the horizon, the moon a pale white circle against the soft blue. The air is still warm, but not with the humidity of earlier today, a cool tinge to the breeze that glides across my skin. It’s the perfect summer evening, made even better by the light conversations we have and the alcohol that Taehyung brings out for us – Jimin, Yoongi and Jin drink their soju like it’s going out of fashion, Jungkook, Namjoon and Hobi nursing beers instead whilst Tae and I sip on our Malibu and coke (very little Malibu actually in it). The s’mores are amazing, the warm gooey marshmallow, rich melty chocolate and crunchy sweet biscuits a perfect combination – whoever came up with s’mores is an actual genius.

‘Do you want some more s’mores, y/n?’ Hobi asks once my plate is empty, and I groan, the boys all laughing. ‘I think I’ll explode if I have another. I’ve eaten more today than I have in the last week,’ I say, clutching my stomach. ‘I’ll have one, Hobi,’ Jungkook says with a cheeky grin, and Hobi shoots him a glare, no real venom in it. ‘Get yourself one.’ ‘You offered to y/n!’ ‘You’re not dying in a week,’ Hobi says, eyes instantly flitting to me to see if I mind, but I’m already bursting into laughter, my head falling onto Jin’s shoulder which is shaking from his laughter too.

‘Are we terrible for joking about death?’ Jungkook says once we’ve all calmed down, and I sigh. A cold breeze rushes past us, biting at my skin, and I shiver, pulling my blanket closer around me and shuffling forward in my seat so I sit closer to the bonfire. It’s gotten so much cooler so quickly, all of us wrapped up in blankets. ‘What can we do but joke about it? I think I’d cry if we didn’t,’ I say into the silence, the boys all just listening as I stare into the flickering flames, deeply inhaling the smoky scent in the air.

‘It still doesn’t feel real. How do you prepare yourself for death?’ I ask, voice a little shaky, and Jin puts a hand on my shoulder gently. ‘I wish we could tell you, y/n, and make it easier for you, but it will never be easy to see someone of your age die. Old people, who have lived their lives, they can prepare for death. I don’t think you can. And I’m sorry for that, I really am. We all are,’ he says softly, his kind words bringing a sad smile to my face. ‘Thank you. Thank you all, for doing all this today, and Namjoon and Taehyung, for opening your home to me,’ I say, all of them reflecting my sad smile back at me.

‘We’d have done it even if you weren’t dying, y/n. Please, don’t think we’re only doing this because you’re dying. We’ve all known each other since we were kids. And look at all you did for us. We’d have done all of this for you regardless of your health if you asked us to,’ Namjoon says, and I look at him in confusion, wondering what he means. ‘What did I do for all of you?’ ‘We were talking about this whilst you were asleep. Remember when I was riding my bike past your house, and I fell off it?’ Namjoon asks, the others laughing at the mention, and all of a sudden, a memory I didn’t even know I had appears in my mind.

We must’ve been around 7; I don’t remember what I was doing, but I saw Namjoon on the floor outside of my house through the window, clutching onto his knee with his bike beside him. I ran and got the plasters from where they were in one of the kitchen cupboards, and practically sprinted outside. I sat down on the floor beside Namjoon, and there were tears in his eyes, and his knee was bloody. Not knowing that you’re supposed to clean a cut and disinfect it, I’d just put a plaster on for him, and then my parents saw what was going on, and took Namjoon inside to properly clean the cut, me following them in with his bike in my arms, and then they phoned his mum to let her know what had happened. Our school was a tight knit community and all the parents were friends with each other – they all had each other’s phone numbers.

‘How do you remember that?’ I ask, smiling at the memory, and he grins. ‘It’s the first act of kindness I remember experiencing. And it might have been simple, but it taught me to be kind, and do things for people when I didn’t have to, because that’s what you did for me,’ he says, and then all of the boys share the stories of things I did for them over the years we went to school together.

For Jin, I’d lost one of his crayons and then I’d brought in a whole new pack for him. When his mum mentioned it to my parents and thanked them for buying Jin a new pack, they’d had been confused; they hadn’t bought a new set of crayons. I’d taken in one of my own sets for him without telling them. Jin brought it into school every day and shared it with me and only me, and wrote both of our names on the packaging so that everyone would know that they belonged to the both of us.

For Yoongi, I’d recorded his piano performance at the awards’ evening because I’d overheard his mum saying she’d forgotten her video camera at home and didn’t have a smart phone to record it on. I’d sent it to him that night, letting him know why I’d recorded it, and he’d thanked me before showing his mum. I never knew this at the time, but apparently she was so happy that she cried, and made Yoongi give me a present to thank me. I didn’t know that Yoongi was the one who put the thank you card in my locker with a necklace in it a couple weeks later – he’d been too shy to give it to me face to face (I’d been so confused, wondering who was thanking me and for what). I still wear the necklace sometimes – it’s a silver chain with a little butterfly pendant that rests between my collarbones.

For Hobi, I’d spotted a random bag in the school car park, and checked the belongings to see that it was Hobi’s – his wallet had been in there, along with a load of money and some dance clothes. I’d brought it in the next day and gave it to him, and he’d thanked me profusely. What I didn’t know at the time was that his mum had worked multiple jobs in order to fund his dancing, including buying him all that dance gear, and that he’d thought that someone would’ve stolen it all because they were worth a lot, as well as stealing his wallet. But instead, it’d been returned back to him, with everything still in there.

For Taehyung, I’d been the only one to say I liked his drawing, back when we were little kids. It was of a little alien cartoon character, with a heart shaped head (the same thing he’d been drawing in chalk on the driveway earlier), and everyone else laughed at him and called it silly and said it looked nothing like the real cartoon. But when I told him it was nice and that I thought it was really good, it made him want to draw it more, before he started drawing other things too, and his passion for art had been sparked, all because of a little compliment from me when we could barely write our names.

For Jungkook, I’d been helping clean Dahyun’s house after her house party, and I found him passed out in the upstairs bathroom. I got Dahyun to help me get him into my car, drove him home (I knew his address from a party he’d had once), used his house keys to get him in his house, helped him lie down on the sofa, forced him to drink some water and then left a note beside a full bottle of water to letting him know who’d dropped him off at home. And then I’d locked up after myself and posted the keys through the letterbox. His mum had phoned my parents the next day to thank me profusely, and brought over some cupcakes – they were amazing, by the way.

And for Jimin, maybe the most important of them all – I’d done my end-of-year presentation on eating disorders. We had to do the presentations for our language grade, to show that we could speak with fluency and precision and accuracy, and we were told to do it on an interesting topic so that we would be motivated to write an engaging presentation. Almost everyone else did theirs on superficial things, like their hobby or their favourite celebrity. Mine was one of the only serious ones. Everyone had praised mine – I always was good at language – and I got one of the highest two grades (Namjoon and I competed for the top of the class in every lesson we had together). But what I didn’t know was that, thanks to my presentation, Jimin realised he had an eating disorder. He was virtually starving himself, not eating for days at a time, whilst over exercising, because he hated the way his body looked. And because of the helplines and websites I put at the end of the presentation, he sought help, and spoke to his parents about it. He went to the doctor with his mother, and they put him on a diet plan to get him back to being healthy. I helped him to be healthy again.

My eyes are teary when Jimin finishes speaking. I’m so touched that he remembers, that they all remember the acts of kindness I did for them. And whilst Jimin’s was unintentional, it was still so important, and I’m proud of young me for deciding to do her presentation on a serious topic. I’m proud of her for being such a kind person all the time. This truly is karma – I did these nice things for them back then and they’re repaying that kindness back to me when I need it most. And then I realise why Jimin was so desperate to help me – he just wants to help me like I helped him.

‘So, really, y/n, don’t thank us. We owe you,’ Namjoon says, all of them nodding in agreement, and I beam at them, tears beginning to spill down my face. ‘Don’t cry, because you’ll make me cry!’ Jungkook shrieks, all of us laughing as Jin hands me a tissue, and I dab the tears away. ‘God, what’s wrong with me? I never cry this much usually,’ I say embarrassedly, and Jimin grins. ‘Don’t be embarrassed about crying. I think I’d have cried out all of the water in my body if I were you,’ Jimin says, coaxing a laugh from me. ‘Me, too,’ Jungkook says, sniffling a little, and we all burst into laughter when we see that his eyes are full of tears. ‘My God,’ Jin says, his lip curled up in mock disgust, ‘you really are a cry baby.’ ‘Can you blame me?’ Jungkook asks defensively, wiping his eyes, and Jin’s eyes widen. ‘Yes! You’re not the one dying!’ he exclaims, setting the rest of us off again, our laughter carrying in the cool summer air.

Survey #303

“if i can’t be loved, then i’ll be hated”

What color are your glasses, if applicable? Black. Candy corn or conversation hearts? They're both gross, don't make me pick between garbage. Do you own a lot of earrings? Not really after I weeded them out before moving. What did your backpack in high school look like? I dare say I had the dopest backpack of them all. It looked like a massive Ouija board, and the zipper was the planchet (sp?). Have you ever been to a rave? Nah. What is your favorite art medium? I have a particular fondness of oil paintings. They tend to look so smooth, and you can achieve incredible realism with them. How far away is the nearest hospital from you? Not even five minutes, I think. Who was the last person you visited in a hospital? My mom. What is your favorite car color? Pink, duh. How did you learn to type? We actually had a class specifically for typing in middle school. What style of wedding dress do you want? I don't have that set in stone yet, but I really do love ballgown dresses with long trains as well as a-lines with a moderate train. I love a lot, except really for mermaid dresses. Do you fit into any stereotype, or are you non-stereotypical? I don't know if I fit perfectly into any and really don't care. Would you want your first child to have your hair color? ???? I don't care about their hair lol?????? It would depend on the hypothetical father, in which case I'd probably find it cute, but this is so, so unimportant. Do you enjoy writing in cursive? Yeah, it just feels good and flowy to me. What is your favorite hair color? Natural? Probably blonde with natural darker undertones throughout. I like blonde hair because it's far easier to dye, haha. Now, if we're including DYED hair, rose gold or pastel pink is *chefs kiss* What is your favorite eye color? Sapphire blue, probz. Would you put your birthday on a different day if you could? Nah, it's fine where it is. What holiday is your birthday closest to? Valentine's. Do you vent on social media a lot? NOOOOOOOO. I barely post ANYTHING about myself on social media because I feel like I'm being annoying, self-absorbed, find anything I do actually interesting, or don't want people to think I'm a whiner. All I ever really do on social media is share or reblog funny shit, things I love, stuff I find relatable or inspirational, educational, important for whatever reason, etc... Do you have abusive parents? I am very thankful to say no. Is your house haunted? Doesn't seem like it. What's your favorite thing to watch on YouTube? I'm in a real WoW-related phase lately... Watching my favorite streamers, gold farming guides, and other various aspects of the game. What are five health problems that you have? I talk about the mental issues enough, so I guess I'll talk about physical stuff here. Uhhh I have very low blood pressure (it's a med side effect), I have extremely weak legs following muscle atrophy, I have bad tremors, especially in my hands (amplified by medication once again), maybe TMI but we're adults here and it's a legit issue that I have chronic and severe conspitation, aaaand then of course I have hyperhidrosis (excessive sweating) to a fucking outrageous and also humiliating degree. Ooooonce again as a prescription side effect. This answer made meds sound kinda bad, I know, but really, I'd rather have the will to live and just have to deal with these than want to die everyday and not. Do you have surgery coming up? No, let's keep it that way until I lose enough weight and when I am 110% getting loose skin removal. Which family member(s) do you look the most like? My sisters, ig. People say my mom also, but I honestly don't see it. Have you ever cried while watching a YouTube video? Yeah, usually just in let's plays, but it's happened for other reasons. Are you missing a website that just shut down? Nah, none that I know of. NO. FUCKING WAIT. So, when my laptop was fixed, a LOT of shit was wiped from it, and that included all of my goddamn Lightroom editing presets. The site they were from no longer exists, so I had to use a different, pretty sub-par one to install at least a few because it helps me get a start on editing the photograph and leaning towards the "vibe" I want before spending like 15+ minutes tuning it myself. Would you be a barefoot bride? No. Which would you rather name your daughter: Eliana, Echo, Emerald, or Ellery? Ohhh, I like these. I think I prefer "Eliana," but "Echo" is a close second. "Ellery" is nice, but it sounds too much like "celery" to name my kid that lmao. Which would you rather name your son: Maverick, Matthew, or Moses? Ugh, none, honestly. But "Matthew" wins. When was the last time you gave a speech? Like a *legit" speech? Probably not since uhhh... I guess when I argued my disability case at court? Does that even count? Have you ever been in a stampede? Well, never seen this'n in a survey before, so good job, lol. No. If you were a fairy, what color would you like your wings to be? It would depend on what I wore, really. And my hair. But probably light pink. Would you rather name your son Storm, Skylar, Sorin, or Solomon? "Sorin." "Skylar" is SO Southern, and "Solomon" sounds like the creepy kid all his classmates avoid and I ain't putting my kid through that. Did you read a devotional this morning? Not my jam. Would you rather be named Arizona, Alaska, Cali, or Georgia? Hm... "Alaska" is actually kinda cool???? And I'm white as fuck so lol????? I wouldn't mind to nickname of "Ally," anyway. Are you repulsed by ugly reptiles? lololol bro get out Did all your friends know about your first crush or was it a secret? I was definitely secretive and shy about it when I first started getting crushes. Do you ever feel insecure about going out without makeup? I feel insecure either way, so... How many different natural hair colors are there in your immediate family? So, this is a hard question to answer. My mom was born with brown hair, but it darkened to almost black; only her daughter Katie inherited that. By some genetic magic, Dad had blond hair as a kid, but it also turned black. Like... how?????? I was born with dirty blonde hair like him, and mine turned an average brown with age. My immediate sisters have always had brown hair. What is your favorite online game? World of Warcraft is ballin'. Would you ever want to be famous and sign autographs? Ha, the idea of signing autographs is awful... I can't physically write very long without my carpal tunnel flaring up. Do you like your shirt to be loose or tight? LOOSE. Especially as a bigger person, tight shirts are just really uncomfortable. What is your favorite Spanish name? I don't know nearly enough to answer this. Would you rather visit Asia or Europe? I think Asia is, in general, more interesting and prettier as a whole, but I guess I'm drawn to European culture being more like my own and there are specific locations I'm interested in, like Germany or Scotland. So to answer the question, I guess Europe wins. Are there any Asians in your family? I don't believe so. Have you ever had colored braces? Haha yeah, I did that when I had them. Do you take birth control pills? Yes, just for period cramps. Without them, they can be immobilizing for me. If you live in the USA: do you feel free and safe? Ha, no. Well, not *entirely*. Have you ever been sick on your birthday? I was recovering from the stomach virus, if that counts. As in I still got sick the day before and felt iffy on my actual bday. 17th, I think? Is talking about your past painful for you? Yes. Are you a member of any support groups online? I'm a member of The Mighty site, if that counts. When I'm feeling very, very sound of mind and helpful without all the negativity being a detriment to myself, I do like going on there and trying to help or comfort people. Have you ever called a suicide hotline? Yes, and the line was busy, and that's when I decided I was a goner. Do you ever fantasize about revenge? I uhhhhh... sometimes. What's a movie you would recommend to someone who never watches movies? Ohhh, that's hard. I don't really watch movies either, and I'm trying to think of one that essentially anyone would like, so hm. Oh, Coco is absolutely a possibility. That movie touched me so, so deeply and is high on my favorites list. It's impossible to not feel the emotions. Do you want to have grandkids? Hell, I don't want kids. Do you want to be an aunt or uncle? I already am one, and I love being an aunt. Who was your favorite Spice Girl? I don't remember their names or characters in general. Did you make a lot of home videos growing up? I mean *I* didn't, but Mom filmed quite a few. Do you enjoy babysitting? NO. What's an unpopular opinion that you have? Avoiding some political ones, uhhhh. OH. HERE'S ONE. THE SCENE AESTHETIC IS FUCKING CUTE AND NOT CRINGEY AND YOU CAN FIGHT ME ABOUT IT. Are you attracted to the opposite gender, same gender, or both? Both are A+. Was your first crush on someone of the same gender or opposite? Opposite. As a kid, I didn't even fathom the concept that women could date women. What is something you'll never eat again? Why? Brussel sprouts. Fucking disgusting. What is currently happening that is scaring you? Besides the very obvious answer of "Covid," I worry about my mom a lot. She's so weakened after all the chemo and meds and can do literally less than I can without heavily breathing and sweating. I just worry a lot that cancer will return sooner than we hope; I don't want it to EVER come back, but doctors say it is very, very likely at one point or another because she was so very close to Stage 4. What would be your personal hell? Being completely and entirely isolated forever while somewhere hot and humid, lol. And play one of my trigger songs on repeat eternally. What made the "weird kid" at your school weird? There was this poor guy named Alfred that was VERY clearly depressed out of his mind, and I heard him speak maybe once through all of high school, and the entire class couldn't believe it. He always sat way in the back and never smiled. I wonder how he is nowadays. What is a word you personally find offensive? "Retarded" personally offends me the most when misused and spoken as an insult. What instantly puts you to sleep? Now that is HARD to do; I have a ridiculously hard time going to sleep. The easiest way though would probably be me being drained from an emotional breakdown. That is so exhausting that I'm capable of crashing pretty fast and hard. What song is in a language you don't speak, but you love it anyway? I adore Rammstein, so there's plenty. I'll probably say "Donaukinder" is their best. What is something you would like to do if you weren’t judged for doing it? I keep that I RP a complete secret in my "real" life for this reason unless it's like, pried out of me. What's a movie you think everyone should watch? Why that one? Johnny Got His Gun. See how goddamn disgusting war is. What was the most unexpected good thing that's ever happened to you? Ha, realizing I was bisexual after once being homophobic. What is the funniest fact you know? Oh man, I know a lot of random trivia shit, really, so it's hard to say. Maybe that quokkas throw their offspring at predators to distract and escape from them... As awful as that is, c'mon, you gotta admit it's funny and shocking with just how adorable they are. What was your 'mic drop' moment? Oh, I don't know. Possibly when I publicly came out as bi on Facebook and made it abundantly clear that I gave no shits about some homophobic friends and family & I was beyond willing to let anyone's ass go over it. What's the kindest way a stranger has treated you? I remember as a kid at McDonald's, the woman in front of our car paid for our food; apparently seeing a mom, dad, and three kids in a van was enough that she wanted to just be kind and give us a smile. We have no idea who she was, never saw her face or anything, she was just a sweet woman. What is the biggest design flaw of your body? Okay, I'm going to let go of all hatred for my body weight-wise and just think of this as from a strictly natural design perspective, in which case I'd say my toes are too small. What age are you afraid of turning and why? 30, because I'm terrified of getting there and seeing I've possibly gone nowhere. What is the strangest thing you have ever felt? I'm keeping this question in just because I think there could be some interesting answers for others, but I'm witholding my answer because nobody wants or needs to know lmao. What makes someone immediately unlikable? Acting better than others and belittling. Who's a villain you sympathize with and why? D A R K I P L I E R because of his origins and overall purpose and just simply existing. What is something you regret to NOT have done? I have this oddly weird regret of not going like, all-all the way with He Who Shall Not Be Named????? Idk why though????? Considering I loved him way too much and I was a reckless and impulsive person who probably at some point would have wound up accidentally pregs????? What a fuckin trip that woulda been. What movie changed your life for the better? None have really "changed my life." What book you think should be directed as a film? Oh, idk. Most I can think of have been. Of all the decades you've lived in, which one have you liked best? The 2000s, probably. A carefree kid. How are you doing today? I'm exhausted. While out with Mom and my sisters yesterday, we got behind a van whose driver was obviously drunk or high off his goddamn ass, and he was swerving EVERYWHERE, nearly shoving so many cars off the road. Mom called 911 to get in contact with highway patrol to report his dumb fucking ass in. I was having an absolute panic attack and cried quietly like the entire 45 or so minute drive home. I was just so, so upset because this is why I don't fucking drive, and I felt like I'd made my sister (who was driving) mad because she had to firmly tell me I had to calm down (I was hyperventilating and talking to myself to try to calm down) if she was going to focus and keep us safe. She later ensured me she wasn't mad, but I still wasn't the same the entire rest of the day. Anyway, I slept hard last night but had two nightmares, so I'm still really tired today. I'm trying to keep myself really distracted. What's something your relatives don't know about you? A whole lot really, considering beyond my very immediate family, I see almost nobody because they live many states away. What's something your parents did, which you have sworn never to do? Mom would spank us or slap an arm pretty hard if my sisters or I misbehaved or "disrespected" her by "talking back." I'm not having kids, but I would never, ever, ever, put my hands on them in any way that isn't loving. You do not teach children via inflicting fear. I also have this probably overly strong aversion to beer because that's what Dad always drank as an alcoholic. I'll probably never try it, not that I really want to because it smells awful. What's the most annoying thing your pet does? I feel like "annoying" is the wrong word for this, but Roman (my cat) can be incredibly demanding of attention and to lie on me when I'm on the laptop in bed, and sometimes I just want space and be able to clearly see the screen, haha. He will legit meow like a baby and gently swat my arm sometimes if I try to keep him back. Heeee usually gets his way. As for Venus (snek), she does nothing "annoying" either, but rather a bit concerning to a snake mom: she is usually very slow to find and strike her food. I feed her frozen/thawed mice, and she will first slither around her entire cage, tongue flicking and clearly looking for her food, even though I always place it atop the same spot on her hide, and she can have her head RIGHT beside it and still do nothing. She ultimately generally eats (as a ball python though, she's a picky eater and will occasionally reject a meal), but I of course wonder why she's odd about dinnertime... As a champagne, she does have the notorious "spider gene" in her, which can cause neurological issues, but idk if something like this could be related.

[Coco] Nuestra Iglesia, Pt. 4

Title: Nuestra Iglesia Summary: Fake Priest AU. In the midst of the Mexican Revolution, Santa Cecilia is still a relatively safe place; all a young orphan named Miguel has to worry about is how to get novices Héctor and Imelda to switch their religious vows for wedding vows before it’s too late. He’s not having much success until he finds an unlikely ally in their new parish priest, who just arrived from out of town. Fine, so Padre Ernesto is a really odd priest. He’s probably not even a real priest, and the army-issued pistol he carries is more than slightly worrying. But he agrees that Héctor and Imelda would be wasted on religious life, and Miguel will take all the help he can get. It’s either the best idea he’s ever had, or the worst. Characters: Miguel Rivera, Ernesto de la Cruz, Héctor Rivera, Imelda Rivera, Chicharrón, Óscar and Felipe Rivera, OCs. Imector. Rating: T

[Tag with all chapters up here.]

[Also on Ao3]

A/N: I finished proofreading this while half-drunk at the airport. Here's hoping that's not too obvious.

***

Considering that Ernesto had absolutely no clue what the hell he was even doing, he thought things were going rather well.

His way of handling things had definitely raised a few brows, of course, but no one had called his bluff and no one was chasing him with sticks demanding to know what he’d done with the real priest - funny story, that. So he counted it as a success.

He’d even remembered how to handle the Rite of Eucharist, even if he’d maybe gulped down more wine than he should have, because at one point he could have sworn he’d seen Sister Sofia licking her lips while staring at him from her place among the other nuns. He’d blinked and she looked perfectly normal, so he must have imagined it - a sure sign he’d gone too long without a woman.

Other than that, all was well. The Mass was over, everyone go in peace or something, and his cover was still up - a rather original priest from out of town. Even that bag of laughs of the Mother Superior seemed to suspect nothing. She looked slightly perplexed, maybe, but nothing more. He could pull this off for as long as it was needed.

If he didn’t know that would look odd, Ernesto would have patted himself on the back; instead, he just settled for exchanging pleasantries and nods with the parishioners as they began leaving the church… only that quickly enough the steady line towards the exit came to a halt, and a few murmurs went through the crowd, causing Ernesto to blink.

“Who may that be?”

“A gringo…?”

“Mamá, why is that man pink?”

What the…?

The crowd seemed to suddenly part in two, like the Red Sea before Moses - look, mamá, I’m getting the hang of this priest thing - and walking up to him there was… well, it was a gringo all right, with straw-like hair and beard. And, unless that town had somehow become a beacon for chronic liars in clergy clothes, he was also a priest.

Uh-oh.

“Father Ernest,” the man called out, and took another step forward, bowing his head slightly. It was only the two of them before the altar, everyone else several steps away. Ernesto had enough time to wonder if he was really talking to him, but not enough say anything - let alone to correct him on his name - before he spoke again. “Laudetur Jesus Christus.”

Ernesto blinked. “I don’t speak English,” he said, only realizing his mistake when the priest - Ernesto had never in his life seen someone so ridiculously pink - blinked, taken aback.

“Wha–” he began, only to trail off when someone suddenly laughed uproariously and grasped Ernesto’s cassock.

“Hahahaha! Good one!” Miguel exclaimed, grinning up at both of them. Where had he come from? “It was funny, wasn’t it? Padre Ernesto tells the best jokes!”  he added, and the grip on the cassock tightened. Realization - he knew - hit Ernesto like a jolt, but he managed not to make his shock plain. Despite the fact his heart seemed to have sunk somewhere in the vicinity of his kneecaps, Ernesto managed to smile.

“I can never resist,” he said, gaining himself a less than impressed look from the other man - who was, very clearly, allergic to fun. Still, his gaze softened when he looked at Miguel.

“Oh, the altar boy,” he said. His Spanish was… passable, Ernesto supposed, but the accent was so thick it made some words quite hard to understand. “Good afternoon. I’m Father John. And you are…?”

“Miguel. I, uh, really need to speak to Padre Ernesto a minute here, but I’ll give him back–”

“It won’t be long, Michael,” Father John said, causing Miguel to blink in confusion and Ernesto to frown. “Father Ernest and I–”

“Ernesto,” Ernesto found himself saying, more coldly than he should have. He had to shed who he was, and he had to shed his surname, but the name his parents had given him was still his own and like hell he’d let some sunburnt gringo twist it. “I was christened Ernesto, with an o at the end. And his name is Miguel.”

It was as though he had said nothing at all. “–Have some matters to discuss,” he finished, and turned those unnerving watery eyes back to him. Ernesto met his gaze with an unimpressed look of his own. In a way, annoyance was a blessing: it kept him from freaking out over the fact that, well, the altar boy had caught him out.

“Sure thing, Padre Juan,” he said, his voice tight, and the faint smile on Father John’s face faded.

Good.

He fully expected a cold remark, but just then Héctor approached with quick steps, waving off the small crowd that had been standing a few steps away. They seemed to get the message and resumed walking out of the church, although several of them paused to glance back, clearly puzzled. The nuns, too, looked perplexed as they passed by. Soon enough, there was only them in the church… and a very confused-looking Gustavo somewhere in the back.

“We had no idea there would be a visitor,” Héctor said, smiling widely. His voice seemed to echo in the church. “Welcome among us, Padre… I’m sorry, I did not catch that. My ears were kind of ringing a bit. The organ, you know?”

“Juan,” Ernesto quipped.

“John,” the gringo said pointedly, then smiled at Héctor. “I supposed you are the novice Father Edmund spoke of so highly of in his letters. Brother Hector, is that it?”

He pronounced it funny, but at least his name was spared. Héctor nodded. “That would be me, yes. Did you say Padre Edmundo wrote to you?”

A nod, and Father John turned back to Ernesto. The smile had already faded. “I understand that you have only just arrived in this parish,” he said. “Fresh out of seminary, I assume.”

Fresh out of the army and oh, did I learn a thing or two there I’d like to do right now.

“You could say that,” Ernesto said instead, his voice carefully controlled, gaining himself another nod.

“I have been in touch with your predecessor, may God take him in His glory. He kindly said he’d let me stay for a time. I have been traveling Mexico for the past year--”

“Vacation?” Ernesto guessed. The guy had noticeable self-control, he had to give him that, but this time he just barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes.

“I am on a mission, on behalf of the Holy Catholic Church,” he said, his voice tight. It made his awful accent even worse, somehow. “To evangelize the people of this country.”

Ernesto blinked, and turned to Héctor, who looked back at him at an absolute loss. Not help there, then. Wondering if he hadn’t simply heard wrong - he was hard to understand at times, really - Ernesto cleared his throat. “You might be… a few centuries too late.”

“The work of God is never done.”

“No, I mean… you are. Everyone and their dog is already Catholic,” Ernesto pointed out, and the gringo glowered at him.

“Surely you jest,” he muttered. “Although this is no jesting matter. Animals lack souls. They cannot possibly be Catholic.”

Oh, Jesus Christ.

“I didn’t mean that literally. Either way, the fact stays that we’re all Catholic. So sorry you had to waste a trip. But if you’d like to stay a night or two before you move on someplace else where your help is needed--”

“From what I have seen today, I believe my help is needed here and now. Especially during Lent, I believe it quite important that the holy Mass is held properly,” Father John cut him off, and Ernesto held back a groan. All right, so this guy clearly was not a fan of the spin he’d put to the traditional mass. Can’t please everyone and all that, but did he really have to be such a miserable pain in the ass?

“Well, things are still a bit, uh. As you said, I just arrived. But I guarantee we are all Catholic, so it would be rather redundant to bring over Catholicism all over aga--”

“I am talking of proper Catholicism, Father Ernest,” the man said, tilting up his chin. “Not the watered down kind you practice here, laced with pagan fetishes and superstition.”

Hijo de tu puta madre, Ernesto thought. It was a very tempting retort to utter, if a decidedly un-priestly one - and maybe the thought had showed on his face, because suddenly there was another very urgent pull at his cassock and Miguel was speaking fast.

“No! I mean-- that’s really interesting, Padre Jua-- Father John!” he blurted out, and smiled, ignoring how both Ernesto and Héctor were blinking down at him. “Why don’t you hold mass for a while? As our guest?”

That caused the gringo to blink before the surprise melted in a smile that was surprisingly warm. “I’d be happy to, if Father Ernest is willing to let me.”

“Wha--” Ernesto began to protest, only to trail off when Miguel’s foot suddenly stomped down on his - a sudden, painful reminder of two things: that the boy knew, and that he couldn’t hold mass for shit. “Agh! I mean - ah, what a good idea!”

Héctor frowned, eyes shifting between them. “Miguel, are you all--”

“Never been better! But now I think I really need to borrow Padre Ernesto for a minute. Or two. Or twenty,” he exclaimed, grinning widely, and began dragging Ernesto towards the sacristy. “Why don’t you show Father John around? Gustavo can look after his… horse?”

“I came with a donkey.”

“An ass on top of an ass,” Ernesto muttered under his breath, and held back a yelp when Miguel swiftly kicked his shin. Within moments they were back in the sacristy, and Miguel was slamming the door shut behind them. “That kick was entirely unnecess--”

“Who are you?” Miguel demanded to know, crossing his arms, and Ernesto shut his mouth.

Oh, he thought. Right. He figured it out. Should have left him to drown.

“I…” he began, glancing around the sacristy. He had left his gun in his room, hidden in the mattress, but he wouldn’t need that to overpower a child. He could smother him easily. But still, how could he get away without anyone noticing? Witnesses had seen him entering the room with Miguel; even if he got out from the back door after dealing with him, he… he…

“You are not a priest,” Miguel said, arms still crossed, but he didn’t look hostile; rather, he seemed curious - the way kids can be, and the full implications of what he’d been thinking hit him like a bucket of cold water. For a moment he could see the glare of the sun on the barrel of his gun and Alberto’s unprotected back in front of him, and smell gunpowder and blood in the air… only that now he wasn’t looking at a grown man at all.

A kid, Jesus Christ, he was standing there thinking of how to best kill a kid.

“Uh, Padr-- Ernest-- señor?” Miguel’s voice reached Ernesto as though from a mile away; there was no mirror for him to look into nearby, but if there were, he was fairly sure he would have found himself staring at a face as pale as ash. He staggered backwards, and his back hit the wall.

“I…” he began, and swallowed. He could taste bile in the back of his throat. If he’d had a gun at had, if not for that gringo and for Héctor just out of the door, what would have have done? “Miguel, I… how…?”

Entirely unaware of the thoughts that had been storming through his mind, Miguel shrugged. “I saw you trying to read the Bible. You didn’t just decide to do things differently, right? You don’t know any Latin.”

“I…” Ernesto swallowed again. His mouth felt dry as sandpaper. “No. I don’t know Latin.”

“So you are not a priest.”

“... No. I need to know, did you tell anyone--”

“Of course not!” Miguel exclaimed, cutting him off, and now he seemed offended. “You kept the secret when you found me at the stream and I wasn’t supposed to, remember?”

Ernesto blinked. That… wasn’t the reply he had expected, but it made sense, in a childish kind of way. Won’t tell if you don’t. “Ah,” he said, and sighed in relief. “That.”

“And I know people would assume all the wrong things, like, that you’re a spy from the government,” Miguel went on, rolling his eyes and not realizing the way Ernesto had stilled. “They see spies in every newcomer - I bet they’ll watch that gringo like hawks now. They think I don’t understand what they’re talking about, but I do. So maybe they would get the wrong idea, but I know better,” he added, and grinned. “You’re a good guy.”

“... Am I now?”

Miguel nodded, in a way only a nine year old stating the tenets of the universe can. “Yes! You saved me from the stream, kept it a secret, and then taught me a song,” he declared, counting each feat on his fingers. “That’s good guy stuff. You can’t be with the government.”

Ernesto blinked for a few more moment before giving a guffawing laugh. What a childish, simplistic world view… and how very convenient for him. “No,” he said, and crouched down to be closer to Miguel’s eye level. “I am not with the government. Not anymore.”

For a moment, the boy seemed to falter. “Anymore…?”

“I was forced to join the army, and escaped.” Shot a man in the process, but all wars have their casualties. “Now I’m hiding from them.”

“Oh, I see. They forced some men from here to join, too. So you switched sides?”

“No,” Ernesto replied, more harshly than he’d meant to. “I have no side. I want no part in this war at all. I’m just trying to live through it - I’m a musician, not a damn soldier.”

Miguel nodded. “Oh, that’s why you’re so good at playing and singing! And that’s why you’re pretending to be a priest… without knowing Latin. You didn’t plan this very well, did you?”

Ernesto rubbed the back of his neck. “Planning is… not my greatest talent. I met the priest who was sent here from Oaxaca on the way, but he was caught up in a fight. Didn’t make it. That’s when I decided to take his place. I seized my moment,” he added. It sounded better than ‘I am sort of winging it as I go’, which was the overly honest version.

The notion seemed to sadden the boy, but only for a few moments. After all, they were talking about a man he had never met nor known. “Will they hang you if they catch you?” he asked, and suddenly sounded excited. Ernesto did not like that.

“... Very likely. I’d rather not find out, though,” he added, reaching up for his throat.

“Fair enough. Good thing I can help you!”

Ernesto blinked. “What?” he asked, and Miguel grinned, starting to pace back and forth.

“Yes, it’s perfect! That gringo arrived just at the right time!”

“Wha--”

“Everyone will focus on him! And he can say mass while you learn Latin!”

“I am not going to learn--”

“All right, maybe not that, but you can memorize the stuff you need to say! I did,” the boy cut him off, and tapped his forehead. “It’s all in here. It’s boring, but I can help you!”

Ernesto blinked, taken aback. The notion of keeping up that charade for more than a few days seemed… slightly less insane than it had just a few minutes ago, really. He was a good actor; he had good memory. Maybe he could pull it off, and get to spend the rest of that stupid war hidden away in that small town, eating three meals a day and with very little danger of being caught and hanged. He just needed… a little help.

“You can help me,” he repeated, and raised an eyebrow. “All right. What’s the catch, niño?”

He’d half-expected the boy to play innocent, but he didn’t even bother to; instead, he smiled widely. “I need your help to stop Héctor before he becomes a priest.”

That was just about the last thing he expected to hear. “You need my help to-- what?”

Miguel rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on! He shouldn’t be a priest! He should marry Imelda, everyone knows he likes her!”

“And Imelda is…?”

“Oh, right. You haven’t met her. They call her Sister Gisela now.”

Ernesto could feel the first stab of something that threatened to turn into a huge headache. “You want me get a novice to drop his vows and marry a nun, did I hear that right?”

“She’s not a nun yet! We also have to stop that from happening, by the way.”

“I have to stop him from becoming a priest, her from becoming a nun, and get them married.”

“Yes!” Miguel exclaimed, clearly glad to see he’d caught on. “I mean, you’re the parish priest! Well, the think you are. They will listen to you,” he added, then paused, frowning in thought. “... Well, maybe Héctor is more likely to listen. But you should talk with Sister Sofía! She also thinks they should drop their vows, and Imelda listens to her. Sorta. Kinda. Maybe.”

“I’m sorta, kinda, maybe thinking I should have let the army hang me.”

Miguel made a face. “Being hanged sounds unpleasant.”

All right, so maybe that was exaggerating just a little bit. Ernesto shrugged, conceding the point. “Fine. Let me see if I understood you correctly. You are going to keep this a secret and teach me whatever crap I have to say during Mass while Padre Culo Blanco covers that for time being,” he said, jabbing an index finger against Miguel’s chest before pointing at himself with the thumb. “And in exchange, I convince a priest and a nun--”

“They aren’t yet a priest and a nun.”

“Fine. I convince two novices to drop their holy vows and know each other biblically, possibly within the sacred bond of marriage. Is that it? That’s the deal?”

Miguel seemed just slightly confused. “What does it mean, know each other biblically?”

“How old are you again, niño?”

“Nine.”

“... It means they kiss.”

“Eeeugh.”

Ernesto raised an eyebrow. “That’s rich, coming from a self-professed matchmaker,” he joked, but the smile faded quickly. “Miguel. Do you swear you won’t say a word about this?”

“I’ll be silent as a grave,” the kid promised, and as he began quickly suggesting a course of action for his - their - matchmaking project, Ernesto did his best to listen… and not to think of the terrifying moment when he’d seriously considered blowing a hole in the boy’s head.

***

“Juanita doesn’t like that gringo.”

“Juanita doesn’t like anyone.”

“I don’t like that gringo.”

“You don’t like anyone, either.”

Chicharrón scoffed, and held the rooster in his lap somewhat protectively. “I like Juanita.”

“... Right.”

“No one likes that gringo, Héctor,” Cheech muttered through the stick in his mouth, and Héctor had to admit he had a point. Most people had put on a polite expression because that’s what you do with a priest, after all… but anyone who knew them - and he would, he’d grown up in those streets - could tell.

It was hard to trust newcomers, those days; Padre Ernesto was already well-liked, despite raising a few brows with that… interesting Mass, but it didn’t mean he was fully trusted. And that man - an American - seemed suspicious from a mile away. Distrust was natural and, really, he wasn’t helping his case at all with his condescending comments on how they handled religious matters, about pagan beliefs to be eradicated, how he was on a mission on God’s behalf to set things right.

Honestly, despite the smile Héctor had pasted on his face, he couldn’t recall anyone going that out of his way to grate on everyone’s nerves since… Gustavo, maybe, back when he’d just arrived at the orphanage and mocked everyone else by insisting that he wasn’t like them, he had a mamá and she would be back to pick him up soon, just you wait, she’ll be back for me before you know it.

She had never come, and Héctor had felt sorry for him, but all of his attempts at showing friendship were thrown back in his face and thus he’d stopped trying very quickly. This, however, was a priest - someone he should at least try to get on with.

“He’s not that bad,” he muttered, tuning his guitar. To be fair, Father John hadn’t been like that the entire time. He’d told him a few really interesting things about his travels, had been really interested in the charity work the parish did and shown interest in getting involved, and he’d seemed genuinely impressed by what little English Héctor could speak - which, to be entirely honest, wasn’t as good as the man’s slightly shaky Spanish. He’d smiled warmly, corrected his pronunciation, and then even laughed a bit.

“My apologies, I forget myself,” he’d said. “I’m not here for a language lesson - but sometimes it feels good, hearing your language when you’re far from home,” he’d added, and then suddenly excused himself.

Héctor strummed the guitar, a frown creasing his brow. There had been something on the man’s face as he’d spoken those words, there one moment and gone the next: a sort of desperate longing that had made him pause. He remembered seeing that look before, on the faces of other children who talked about parents they would never see again.

Unaware of his thoughts, Cheech was scoffing. “He is that bad. Bad news.”

“Maybe we should give him a chance. Maybe he’s just… well…”

“A pompous white ass.”

“American.”

“That’s what I said.”

Héctor laughed. “Hah! Don’t let him hear you.”

“I want him to hear me.”

“And I would like to change subject,” Héctor said, rolling his eyes. Come to think of it, where was Miguel? After he’d gone off somewhere with Padre Ernesto, he hadn’t seen him aroun--

“Oh, right. Almost forgot. They’re coming to take their stuff tonight.”

The casual comment caused Héctor to wince, and his hand slipped off the guitar strings. “Cheech! Not that loud!”

“And who’s gonna hear us, dead people?” Chicharrón scoffed, but he did him the favor to lower his voice. “It’s all sorted, in the usual coffins, in the usual place. You would know, you moved them. They’ll be gone by morning and that will be it.”

“Until the next message.”

“Until the next message, yes,” Cheech muttered, and scratched Juanita’s head. “Wonder who else gets them. I doubt we’re the only ones.”

Héctor had wondered that from time to time, too, and more. “Do you ever wonder who is it, leaving us instructions?”

“Oh, of course. I thought it was old Alejandro for a while, but then he went six feet under and the notes kept coming. Same handwriting and all,” he said, and shrugged. “Maybe it’s Ceci.”

“Ceci?” Héctor repeated, raising an eyebrow. It seemed… unlikely, that their local seamstress would be the mind behind it all. Of course, you never know; something was slightly off with her, with the amount of clothes for the poor that had suddenly become ‘unmendable’ and disappeared. Ceci had always taken pride in her skill to salvage even the most worn-out rags, and Héctor suspected that some of those clothes were mendable after all, and went to other people who had use for them. Can’t fight a Revolution naked, after all.

“I saw her around here not long before I found the note in the usual place,” Cheech was saying, unaware of his thoughts. “This is not the day to collect donated clothing.”

“She was here to make changes to the robes. They’re too tight for Padre Ernesto.”

“Hmmm. Guess that explains it,” Cheech muttered, and shrugged again. “Well, I got nothing, then. I could be anyo--”

“Héctor! Are you still wasting your time with the old goat?” Gustavo’s voice rang out.

Cheech let out a grumble. “Except this cabrón.”

“... Yes. Except this cabrón,” Héctor muttered, causing the old man to chortle.

"Oh, listen to yourself, Brother Héctor. You’ll have to wash your mouth with soap now."

Héctor laughed, and stood. Gustavo was at the low wall between the path and the cemetery, a scowl on his face. "Here you are. Sofía decided to make me her errand boy and--"

"Sister Sofía, you mean."

“I can think of other ways to call her, and none of them is sister,” Gustavo scoffed. "She says dinner is ready, and that you should dine with Padre Ernesto and Padre Jua-- Father John," he corrected himself quickly, and Héctor had to hold back a chuckle. So, that nickname was catching up already. Father John wasn't going to be pleased, but then again he seemed difficult to please either way.

"You're lucky, no chorizo,” Gustavo was going on. “You should live to see another day."

The remark caused Héctor to scowl. "It was one time," he protested. Really, one time you eat too quickly, one time you get a chorizo stuck in your throat, one time you puke it right back up in front of everyone, and there is some pendejo who'll never let you forget about it.

"And very nearly your last,” Gustavo mocked him, and turned to walk away. Héctor wondered about that; usually, as the sexton, he had most meals at the parish.

“Aren’t you coming?” he called out, gaining himself a scoff and a glare over his shoulder.

“Unlike a certain someone, I have more to do then toying with guitars.”

Héctor rolled his eyes. “Self-important jerk,” he muttered, and headed back to the parish with the guitar over his shoulder.

***

Ernesto had never enjoyed killing.

He had done it anyway, of course, and several times. During a battle or an ambush, to finish off wounded enemies afterwards - those were the easiest ones, because it was kill or be killed in one case and a mercy in the other.

But then there had been the other times. The times were men would stand accused of aiding the revolutionaries, found guilty after a joke of a trial, and publicly shot; the times he was picked to be part of the firing squad and made himself go through the motions, the screams and pleas and curses of those witnessing - mothers and wives, sons and daughters and brothers and sisters - ringing in his ears for a long time afterwards.

There had been one time when they’d begun moving on, only to hear the village’s church ringing its bell in a death toll to mourn their dead; their commander had been so infuriated that he’d made them all turn around, had the bellringer dragged out, and shot him point blank in the face. Ernesto hadn’t been the only one to turn on his saddle to vomit in the dirt.

The nightmares had eased after some time, but that bitter taste in the back of his throat would return, unannounced, more often than he’d have liked. He’d tasted it after gunning down Alberto to get away, after ending the dying priest whose cloth he’d taken, and he could taste it now, too. He hadn’t shot Miguel for knowing too much, but the thought had been there and Christ, he needed something strong to wash it away. Except that he could have no such thing, because good old Padre Juan had decided that they shouldn’t have even wine.

“It is Lent, after all. We are meant to give up on such small luxuries. Our Lord certainly had none, alone in the desert as he faced the Devil.”

No, Ernesto had no taste for killing… but the more that gringo talked, the more he felt that could be an exception. Thankfully, Brother Héctor had taken one for the team by engaging with that ass first; it seemed to have backfired, because now he just wouldn’t stop spewing out theological crap and suggesting he could give him English lessons. It was easy to tell Héctor was regretting his decision to start small talk, but Ernesto had absolutely no desire to intervene. The less he had to talk with John Proper Catholicism Johnson, the better.

Really, at that point Héctor just kept nodding with a rather faraway look in his eyes. Was he thinking about this Imelda to keep himself sane? Ernesto sure hoped so, as he hoped he would find the note he had slipped under his door. Miguel had said he’d make sure the other one would find its way in Imelda’s own room. Not precisely the brightest or most original of plans, getting them alone in the same place at night, but they had to start somewhere.

If those two liked each other as Miguel claimed they did, it might just work.

“... As a matter of fact, I never found any of you to be intellectually lacking compared to the white man, save a few exceptions,” the gringo was saying, so very magnanimously. “I do disagree with that school of thought. One cannot help the circumstances of one’s birth, but it is our duty to seek to elevate ourselves and help those less fortunate--”

Ernesto forced himself to let go of the fork. Anything could be turned into a weapon and he was Not Supposed to kill any more priests that week. Or ever, possibly. And well, it looked like he wasn’t the only one who was getting seriously fed up. A few steps away, Sister Sofía - or Sister Sophie, according to the gringo - was holding a frying pan in her hand, eyes shifting from it to Father John and then back again.

Ernesto smiled a bit, and that was when her gaze paused on him. She raised both eyebrows.

You can absolve me later, she mouthed, and Ernesto bit the inside of his cheek not to laugh.

“... What do you think, Father Ernest?” Father John’s grating voice caused him to recoil and look back to him… and at Héctor, who looked like he’d had his soul sucked out of his body.

“Huh?”

“I asked if you’d like to join Padre Hector and me in the chapel for the evening prayer. Certainly that is not a good habit you have shed along with your Latin, is it?”

Ernesto’s eyes flickered behind him. Sister Sofía raised the frying pan, tilting her head in a mute question. It was funny enough to help him not lose his temper, and he managed to smile as though he meant it. “I would love to, but I prefer to say the evening prayer on my own,” he said. “After some private reflection.”

To his relief, he didn’t insist further; he just wished him and Sister Sophie a good night, and left along with a rather resigned-looking Héctor. Ernesto sighed and leaned back on the chair as soon as the door closed behind them. “God give me patience.”

“I’ve got something better,” Sister Sofía said, and within moments there was a bottle of mass wine on the table, plus a second glass. Ernesto raised an eyebrow, and she shrugged. “What Padre Juan doesn’t know cannot hurt him. As much as I would like to do that at times,” she quipped, pouring wine in his glass, and Ernesto barked out a laugh, taking it.

“Telling me you’d like to harm another member of the clergy, Sister?”

“You can absolve me later,” she smiled, and picked up her own glass. “He’s probably going to be a complete killjoy at Mass. A shame, that,” she added, and smiled, putting a hand on his arm.  “I liked your take on it.”

Ernesto thought back of the moment when he’d thought he had seen her licking her lips while staring at him and wondered, suddenly, if that hadn’t been just his imagination after all.

“... I think I noticed,” he found himself saying, and her laughter as she lifted the glass - the glint in her eyes as she glanced at him as though he were a tasty morsel - confirmed his suspicion. He found he liked that thought; there was something flattering about it. She wasn’t that much to look at, short and thin as a twig in robes that were hardly meant to be flattering, but he hadn’t been with a woman for so, so long.

You have a cover to keep, no point in risking it. This is not the hill you want to die on, idiota.

But then again, a nun? She had all the more reasons to keep whatever may happen a secret, he thought as she brought the glass to her lips with a smile. Ernesto did the same and finally, as he gulped it down, the taste of bile in the back of his throat began to fade.

***

His old Bible was where John had left it, on the small table at his bedside.

Most of his few belongings had yet to be unpacked - he’d simply left them in the small room he’d been offered before Brother Hector had begun showing him around - and he would do that early the next morning. Now he was so tired, he wished for nothing but sleep. But not just yet; with his evening prayers uttered, there was one thing yet to do before he could rest.

First thing in the morning and last thing in the evening, so that you never forget.

There was a folded, worn-out letter marking the page he was looking for. He held it in one hand, careful not to crease it, and his eyes rested on the one passage he’d underlined, circled, and read so many times. And he read it again now, so he could never forget.

Then, he unfolded the letter. It wasn’t a much longer read than the passage; a few sentences that were like a slammed door. John read each word, folded the sheet of paper again, placed it back on the Bible, and closed it. He kissed its cover, put it down on the table and then - only then - did he reach up to wipe his eyes with the heel of his hand.

It hurt. Twelve years, and it still hurt. Every morning and evening, until he could redeem himself; until he saved enough souls to be deserving of a second chance for his own.

So that you never forget.

***

Getting in the basement of the orphanage was… oddly easy.

It would have been easy either way, truth be told: Héctor had access to the keys of the small door that let to it from outside, and he had taken them before leaving the parish, but as it turned out it wasn’t needed. After going down the stone steps below the road level, he’d found the door was already open. That was… odd, but no odder than the note he had found in his room when he’d returned after the evening prayer with Father John.

Come at the orphanage’s basement at midnight. It is important. Tell no one.

It was written in uppercase, and he did not recognize the handwriting. He wondered if it may be from the same person who left Cheech the instructions about the weapons and supplies, but he had never seen what the writing in those looked like, so he wasn’t sure.

He’d show Cheech the note and ask the next day; now he had to focus on… whatever that was about.

Why me, though? Cheech is their man. I only helped him.

A good question, and with nothing anywhere close to an answer. That unnerved him more than the near-complete darkness in the basement; the candle he’d lit gave some light, but the deep shadows it cast only made the place more ominous. But he had been there before as a child, sometimes as punishment and sometimes just to get some time by himself, and he could walk through it with his eyes shut.

What unnerved him the most was the silence. There was no one aside for himself; all he could see was the heap of old furniture, wood to burn in winter, broken things and… what was that, in the back? Héctor moved towards the back of the room where, besides a few shelves with canned food, he could see what looked like a few crates covered with tarp.

Unlike all the rest, that wasn’t covered in dust; it looked out of place, and he wondered--

“Who’s there?”

“Eeek!” The less than dignified shriek left him just as he dropped the candle, which extinguished itself before it even touched the ground. Still, he was not left in darkness: when he turned he found himself facing someone else who was, too, holding a candle. “... Imelda?”

“Héctor?”

For a moment, they just stared at each other. She looked surprised, and beautiful in the flickering light of the candle, in that moment of stillness and silence as the world slept and it felt as though there was only the two of them awake. In an empty basement. Alone.

Bad, bad, bad. This is bad.

“I mean--” Héctor cleared his throat. “Sister Gisela,” he said, and she seemed relieved.

“Brother Héctor,” she greeted him back, and stood there as Héctor quickly went to pick up the candle. She held out her own to let him light it up again, and then took a couple of steps back. She was fully dressed in her robe and headdress, and he was wearing his cassock, but somehow the entire situation felt extraordinarily inappropriate. “What are you doing here? This time of the night?” she asked, her voice cautious.

Not knowing how much he could or should tell her, Héctor could have asked the same - but before he could utter a single word there was light, stronger than that cast by their candles, and a man’s voice rang out. “Well, this is more crowded than I was expecting.”

They both winced and turned to see that they were no longer alone. A few steps from them there were a few men, all of them armed. The closest one, carrying an oil lamp, chuckled.

“Well, look at that,” he said, and smiled with a mouth full of crooked teeth before gesturing for the men to lower their guns. “It’s you. Nice to finally meet you in person, amigos,” he added, and Héctor knew he wasn’t going to die that night.

Well, that was turning out to be a really odd night.

***

Imelda had known something was off the moment she had found the note in her room, clearly slipped in beneath the door, telling her to go down in the basement at midnight and tell no one. She’d figured right away it had to have something to do with the weapons she was keeping there, of course - what else could it be about? - but it was also very, very odd.

Her presence had never been required or requested when it was time for the revolutionaries to come and collect them and, most of all, the note itself was different: the handwriting was different, or at least so it seemed to her. It was hard to tell, since this one was in uppercase and none of the others had been.

It unnerved her, and she wished she could tell Sofía about it, but it was not an option that evening: she was away, taking care of the parish and, if she got her way, of the priest as well. Granted, now that a gringo had gotten there, Padre Ernesto was no longer the one Imelda was most interested in knowing about. While an outsider, and clearly not a very conventional priest, at least Padre Ernesto wasn’t a foreigner. An American’s presence there of all places made little sense, and Imelda didn’t like that. Something was up with that man, she could tell.

Maybe, she’d thought, that was the reason why someone wanted to speak to her, and she’d gone down in the basement at midnight, walking through empty and silent halls, not quite knowing what she would find.

Admittedly, Héctor - Brother Héctor - was not among the various options she’d imagined.

"Well, this is awkward, huh? You guys weren't really meant to meet. Safer for everyone if each of you knows as little as possible," the man with the oil lamp - José, he’d called himself, but Imelda suspected that was not his real name - said with another smile as his companions quickly took the weapons and loaded on a small cart they had left outside.

“You…?” both Imelda and Héctor exclaimed, looking at each other and then falling silent.

Imelda was at a loss for words. All of those notes, all along, it had been Héctor of all people? Unaware of the fact Héctor was thinking exactly the same thing - all of those nose, all along, it had been Imelda? - she turned away, Sofía’s words echoing in the back of her mind.

Oh, I think he’s a better actor than you give him credit for.

“Still, what’s done is done. Thanks for the help,” José was adding, thankfully unaware of her thoughts. “The army is still stretched pretty thin, but some of them are getting closer. We’ll send most of these to our friends up north, but will keep a few as well. Just in case.”

That caused Héctor to stop staring at her with his mouth agape and frown. “Do you think they’ll get to Santa Cecilia? Again?” he asked. The mere thought was enough to make Imelda feel cold; last time the army had been there they had taken men, and they had been able to hide away the boys. Next time, they may not be so lucky; orphans were very convenient in war. No one would fight to keep them… or so the Federales seemed to think.

“Maybe we should keep a few rifles,” Imelda spoke up, causing Héctor to wince and José to raise an eyebrow. “In case they come for the children.”

The man barked out a laugh. “Hah! I like the way you think, Sister, but not to worry. If you’re ever in trouble, we will know. And we will fight,” he promised, then he tilted his head. “So. What is this I heard about a gringo in town… ?”

As Héctor filled him in with what he knew about Father John - which was not much, truth be told, but he seemed to think he was relatively inoffensive, if annoying - and promised to keep an eye on him, Imelda found herself staring at him more intensely than she had in years. In the sharp light of the oil lamp he looked, for the first time, more like a man - a world away from the boy she thought she’d known.

Something was going on, something much bigger than either of them, and they were in it together.

***

[Back to Part 3]

[On to Part 5]

How I Turned a Grass Lawn Into a Garden Plot

Chris Telden is an avid gardener of edibles. A former city dweller, she’s always learning of ways to reconnect with the earth.

I used manual tools like this loop weeder to remove the grassy sod and create a nice garden plot for vegetables.

You're reading: How I Turned a Grass Lawn Into a Garden Plot

Chris Telden, All Rights Reserved

Turning a Grass Lawn Into a Garden by Hand (No Power Tools!)

I converted a large area of my lawn into a nice, usable garden space. It was very satisfying, but it also makes me want to rant just a bit.

Can someone please tell me why people ever thought lawns were a good idea? To me, lawns are a waste of good gardening space. They’re labor-intensive, yet they reap little reward. Turning a field of green carpeting into a productive vegetable and herb garden has to be one of the noblest tasks humankind can do.

At least, that’s what I told myself as I set out to turn our grassy lawn into a vegetable and fruit garden. After all, everyone in our household has to pull their own weight—shouldn’t the lawn have to do the same?

Hard Work With Hand Tools

So that’s what I did. With my own hands (yes, me, a born Chicagoan), I turned sections of our lawn into a garden plot. I did it the (modest cough) hard way—with hoes, scythes, and hand tools. I turned both previously untilled lawn and soil that had been tilled the previous year but now was overgrown with grass and weeds into soil that we could grow things in. May I just say—yay!

Manual tools I used to turn lawn into garden.

Chris Telden, All Rights Reserved

A lasagna garden in progress

Chris Telden, All Rights Reserved

Why I Didn’t Use Other Methods, Like Power Tools or Lasagna Gardening

Because I am not inspired by using gas or electric powered equipment, I did not use a rototiller, string trimmer, or anything else that could run off madly on its own if I lost control of it. Because I am impatient, I did not use the pleasurably lazy “lasagna gardening” technique in which you lay down straw or black plastic mulch over cut foliage and then let it all stew for six months to a year.

Although I like lasagna gardening in other areas, I was in a hurry to clear up space on the lawn to plant, so I didn’t want to wait. My goal was to get the grass out of the way, make the soil nice enough not to strangle the roots of the plants I wanted to grow, and plant ’em. Maybe I’d even mulch with bark or coco coir or black plastic to tell those weeds they weren’t comin’ back, no way.

Garden hand tools I used, including Red Pig tools, a Japanese ika hoe (second to left), a mighty Wilcox All-Pro camping trowel (upper right), and a Hoedag (left)

Chris Telden, All Rights Reserved

My Experience as an Amateur Gone Ambitious

So that’s what I did. I did it not knowing a thing about garden tools, weeding, digging, or—let’s face it—gardening. I was fortunate that my sister-in-law spearheaded the project in terms of figuring out the plans for the garden and providing the types of soil amendments needed. She bought most everything, except the tools I ended up using the most.

And somehow or other, it got done. It’s maybe not the most aesthetically pleasing garden ever, but still, food we can eat! Grown right here! On formerly-useless lawn! What could be better?

Sharing My Technique to Spare You the Trial and Error!

It occurred to me that other people might want to know how I got rid of the layer of grass—not because I did anything particularly amazing. I mean, it’s just gardening, and I can’t exactly take credit for reinventing it—but because it was, well, hard, you know?

I would have loved it if someone could have just told me right at the beginning what I would need to have and do. Then I wouldn’t have had to research and try all different sorts of tools before I found the right ones. I wouldn’t have had to learn ALL the important techniques through the trial-and-error method.

Rogue 80S Scuffle Hoe – A triangle hoe sharpened on all 3 sides, canted at an angle to use as a push-pull weeder. It took me several tries to learn to use it effectively.

Chris Telden, All Rights Reserved

I Needed Old-Fashioned, Durable Tools, Not Sissy Walmart Tools

As an example of my trials and errors: When I started this project, I’d hardly ever used a hoe, and then only a lame, bone-jarring one. I decided early on to get a quality Rogue hoe. Rogue is an inexpensive American brand, and they make STRONG hoes. They also have a wide assortment to choose from.

My Five Rogue-Brand Garden Hoes

I ended up getting several—about five (yes, I took this seriously!). I ended up using primarily four in the garden-to-be and ignoring the last. Plus, I learned from experience that two (the 40X and 55A) were essentially interchangeable. I sure wish I’d known that when I ordered them. Below, I describe the tricks and techniques I discovered for using all the equipment that I had no clue how to use when I started.

70F Field Hoe by Rogue Prohoe moves our water-logged clay soil like nobody’s business, and isn’t fazed by the occasional rock.

Chris Telden, All Rights Reserved

My Challenges: Why Digging the Garden Was So Hard

I found my biggest challenge was finding tools that could handle the work. The next biggest was staying uninjured—which largely came down to the tools, as well.

We are in the Pacific Northwest, with damp, muddy, dense clay. This means I needed strong hoes and digging implements that wouldn’t break when used to pry up the dirt, like the cheap chain-hardware-store strawberry hoe I broke trying to dig out lawn.

We have a thick, fibrous layer of thistles, Himalayan blackberries, weeds, and tall grass (we’re talking eight feet tall in places) taking over our lawn. Our sod is mighty sod. I needed tools that were sharp and fast for getting out both thick, deeply-rooted weeds and long, tortuous roots.

Our lawn has rocks, from pebble-sized to brick-sized, buried in it. So the blades of the tools I used had to not be wimpy, but able to withstand the occasional impact against a rock.

I have overcome chronic back, knee, and foot pain in the past, so I needed the physical work to be ergonomic enough NOT to set things off again. I was careful to keep my posture healthy and use tools that I could handle with ease and that were the right size for me (I’m petite). I did manage to hurt my knee at one point due to wearing my otherwise beloved Muck boots instead of my favorite moccasins on a rainy day. (Tell you more about that another time.) But it just confirmed my overwhelming experience that to prevent injury, the right tools were absolutely essential.

How Tough Is Your Garden Lawn?

Tools I Used to Transform the Lawn Into Garden Soil

I used these tools to remove the thick layer of grassy lawn and replace it with nice dirt for planting a garden.

Tool Name Use Comments

Rogue Hoe – 55A and 40X

For powerful digging/turning of sod

Though slightly different shapes and weights, these turned out to be functionally very similar. You don’t need both.

Rogue Scuffle Hoe – 80S

For push-pull weeding and loosening dirt

You kind of slice this thing through the soil in any direction you want. It’s super sharp and does what I imagine a Japanese sickle weeder can do if you tilt it at an angle.

Rogue Hoe 70F, Field Hoe

For moving dirt fast

This long-handled tool has a long reach and a big face that allows me to carve and shave clay dirt almost effortlessly into fluffy dirt, then pull it along. It also cuts well and has a hefty weight to it.

Japanese Kusakichi brand Ika (Squid) Hoe

For removing stubborn grassy clumps, sifting weeds, and breaking up chunks of dirt

Very heavyweight for its size.

Hoedag

For cultivating dirt (especially breaking up clumps of sod), targeting young/new weeds during planting and generally taking around with you

This is a convenient, lightweight hoe I found easy to lug around and use often.

Wilcox All-Pro trowels

For digging out rocks, slicing deep roots, and sifting through dirt

I didn’t use these a lot, but occasionally they were “just the tool.”

Rock Rake – brand unknown

For raking weeds and dirt

I used a sturdy rock rake mostly for smoothing dirt in the last stages of preparing the soil.

Glaser Stirrup Hoe

For weeding and sifting weeds

Read more: How to Grow Watermelon: 5 Tips For Planting & Harvesting

Because I was weeding a wide swathe, I used the largest one with the 7″ head. I probably should have gotten the slightly smaller one to use for weeding in narrow areas once things were planted.

European Scythe

For cutting down high grass, thistles, and blackberries

Honing stone and peening anvil highly advised!

Pitchfork

For moving large clumps of weeds

Particularly helpful if you have a lot of high grass when you start.

Landscape Anchor Pins (Ground Staples)

These nifty mega-staples hold black plastic down for composting or mulch

Black Plastic Mulch

For lasagna gardening/composting large or small plots

This is so not green, but so convenient…what can I say?

Garden Gloves

For protecting the hands from thistles, thorns, poison plants, blisters, and yucky things.

I highly recommend your keeping at least 2 replacement pairs if your soil gets muddy. That way you’ll always have a pair available when the gloves get too muddy and water-logged to use.

Coco Coir, Planting Soil, Fertilizer, and other soil enhancers

For making the soil airy, light, fluffy, rich, and water-retaining without being water-logged

What you use as a soil amendment depends on your particular soil conditions.

Steps I Took to Turn Our Lawn Into a Garden

To turn our lawn quickly into a garden plot, I did the following. (This is the short version.)

I scythed the grass and weeds to a manageable height.

I dug out the sod.

I put the weeds and grass where they could compost.

I added soil enhancements.

I shaped the dirt into raised, sloped beds (about 10″ high)

I planted and mulched.

One Section of the New Garden, formerly lawn, now ready for planting in raised beds.

Chris Telden, All Rights Reserved

How to Turn a Lawn Into a Garden Plot: The Long Version

So all of that sounds really easy, summarized in six short steps. Not gonna lie to you here, it’s not. If you don’t like to sweat and work for hours on end, you probably want to go rent a rototiller and skip to step 4. It’ll still be hard work, just not to quite such an, um, spiritual level.

Step 1: Taming the Tall Weeds

If your lawn is neat and well-managed, you’ve already got a head start – just mow your lawn in preparation for Step 2, digging.

However, if your grass is wildly overgrown or the weeds are more than a foot tall, you probably want to do something about that before you start breaking into the sod. Sod, by the way, means the top layer of lawn dirt – the part with all the grass, weeds, and roots tangled up in a big thicket.

Scything Isn’t Just for the Grim Reaper Anymore

If you have a lawn that gets out of control, or you hate using lawn mowers, consider the old-fashioned scythe. You can scythe in the rain, you can scythe for just 5 minutes, there’s no big equipment to operate or store, and, well…it’s therapeutic, a gentle workout, and fun!

Scything isn’t mandatory, even if your grass is out of control. I mean, if you like to use (or aren’t intimidated by) a string trimmer – also called a “weed wacker” or “weed eater”—to handle that level of roughage, then go ahead and use that. The idea is simply to get the grass and weeds down to less than a foot, and ideally just a few inches high.

Because I am intimidated by power tools, I opted instead to use a scythe to mow my lawn to a reasonable level. I’d started scything our field last year. The grass had grown out of control and was taking over the property, along with some Himalayan blackberries, thistles, and other aggressive intruders. I found scything to be incredibly efficient, cost-effective, and convenient.

So when I went to tackle the neglected lawn area to turn it into a garden, the scythe was my first tool for taming the highest weeds and grasses.

What Is a Scythe?

A scythe is a long crescent-shaped blade attached to a long handle called a snath that you swing along the ground from side to side to cut grass and weeds. It’s not the same as a sickle, which is typically short-handled and wielded anywhere you put it. You need to keep the scythe well-sharpened, which means peening (hammering out the edge of the blade) periodically and honing with a whetstone every ten minutes or so. It’s not as intimidating as it sounds, honestly!

One advantage of using a scythe is that you end up with the grass cuttings that you can use for compost. In my case, some of the cut grass went into little compost piles, and the rest went toward my own version of lasagna gardening in another area of our property, which is another kind of composting.

Which Type?

You have two choices if you’re going to use a scythe: American style with the grass blade or European style. The European scythe is lighter. We have both. I use the stronger, heavier American scythe where there are a lot of thick blackberries and coarse weeds to cut. I use the finer, more easily honed, but needing more frequent honing, European scythe to cut regular grass and light weeds like wild peas, thistles, and SMALL blackberry vines.

How to Use a Scythe

Scything is kind of an art, and I highly recommend this site by a long-time scything family for learning how it’s done.

Raking and Piling All The Weeds

After you cut the grass, you need to do something with it. Raking is almost an afterthought. You forget you’re going to need to do it, but after scything or hacking down an abundance of weeds, you’re left with a huge, messy pile of foliage, and you realize it’s in your way.

You can discard the foliage for composting, or use it on your own compost pile. I raked much of it onto other sections of field, covered it with black plastic sheeting, pinned the mulch to the ground, punctured holes in the mulch with my pitchfork to let in moisture and air, and that area is destined to be a lasagna garden.

As to style of rake, I used a rock rake/bow rake. DO NOT USE A LEAF RAKE. the kind with long metal tines that flex. For this job, such a rake is a wimpy, difficult, and ineffective tool. Use instead one of those long, wide rakes with short, rigid, widely spaced tines.

A pitchfork is useful, but not necessary, for heaving the mass of grass onto the compost heap. It all depends on your volume.

Here’s the picture again, larger this time, of an area that has been prepared with black plastic sheeting.

Chris Telden, All Rights Reserved

Step 2: Digging Out the Sod

This is the step you’ve probably been dreading: removing the actual grassy layer.

This is where things get hard. Literally. Dry soil can be tough to break up. If your soil gets very hard when it’s dry, then try to choose a digging day after a light to medium rain. Water-logged soil after a hard rain, too, can be a pain to dig and turn. Sometimes, though, you just want to work with whatever you’ve got, because you’re in the mood to dig. That’s a good reason to have durable tools. It’s on days where the digging conditions aren’t optimal that it’s easiest to break flimsy tools.

Here is a video of me using the Prohoe Rogue hoe 55A to turn the turf over.

Note: Sorry for the awful quality of the video. I took it with a 15-year-old digital camera, and to compound the matter, I took it by swinging this hugely heavy hoe in one hand and holding the camera in the other. The first attempt had me knocking the handle against my shin. This version is professional cinematography by comparison.

Me Swinging My Firefighter’s Hoe: With One Hand! (Don’t Try This at Home)

How to Dig With a Firefighter’s Hoe

Why did I use a Rogue firefighter’s hoe? (55A) It was very similar to the trenching hoe (40X). Both of these are heavyweight and have blades on both ends. Both have a handle the right length for swinging. The 55A I liked slightly better, because the big adze end is wider and sharpened on three sides. But really, both worked equally well. Just for kicks, I’ve included some photos so you can compare them.

Two Rogue Hoes for Turning Sod – 55A and 40X. Either one would do. You don’t need both.

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The two Rogue hoes, compared in another view.

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And yet another view…

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Here is a comparison of their thickness.

Chris Telden, All Rights Reserved

Sod-Digging Technique

To dig out the sod, this was my technique:

Holding the handle at a comfortable place, raise the hoe high overhead, but not so far back that it upsets your balance.

Swing the hoe to the ground. This movement is a combination of at first letting the hoe fall and then adding to the building momentum at the end with a surge of power. So by the time the blade hits the lawn grass, it sinks in deeply below root level.

With the blade sunk into the dirt, pry the grassy chunk of dirt out by pressing/pushing on the handle. Flip over the dirt, using the blade as necessary to chop any remaining strands of grass.

You now should have dirt exposed in one small area with a clump of upside-down grassy sod. It has begun!

There are a few things you can do at this point. You can dig a long trench down the length of the lawn using this kind of stroke, then follow your cleared trench at an angle with this hoe, flipping over more sod kind of like peeling a carpet of turf. Or, you can rinse and repeat, taking the tool madly to the lawn and making it look like moles have had their annual party there. I, an undisciplined sort, did the latter.

Bending Woes and What to Do About Them

I don’t know about you, but I have chronic back troubles. To be specific, I have spondylolytic spondylolisthesis and neural foraminal stenosis. It was critical for me to keep good bending posture the entire time I was doing this, or my back would go “out.” Now, I learned last year that the supposed “correct” way to bend – at the knees – wasn’t actually good for me at all. So I learned the truly ergonomic way to bend at the hips (not the knees and not the waist) and that’s made all the difference. If you want me to describe how I do it, just ask in the comments.

Loosen the Dirt From the Grassy Clumps

Once your lawn is filled with these intimidating but satisfying clumps of upside-down grassy sod, then you must do some bending. I used a heavyweight trowel (the Wilcox All-Pro 14″), the Hoedag, and the Japanese Ika Hoe to loosen the clods and break the dirt apart. (You may need to wait a day or so for the clumps to dry out if they are very damp.) I used a chopping motion to break off big clumps, then picked up the main clump, gave it a shake, spat out the dirt that came into my mouth, and threw the grass and root part that was left onto a pile to compost later. Rinse and repeat.

If bending isn’t so friendly, you could use the long-handled 80S scuffle hoe, or better yet, a heavier hoe like the one that stayed in my garage, to break up and loosen the clods. That was a smaller Rogue 70G garden hoe by Prohoe. I’ve used it for that purpose before, but when I was doing the yard I was too lazy to make the trip to get it out of the garage! How you use it is you both chop with the broad end, then turn the hoe so the sharpened flat end is on the clump and chop with that, too. Because it has a long handle, you can stand up straight while you work.

Note the Red Pig Tools hoe on the left, next to the red-handled Wilcox All-Pro Digging Trowel, and the forked Japanese squid hoe and hoedag in the background. Any of these would work well.

Chris Telden, All Rights Reserved

Composting the Weeds

I won’t say a lot about composting here, mostly because I do not know a lot. I do know, though, that what I did was fairly easy to do, and cheap. It hasn’t had a chance to fully compost yet, but I don’t see why it wouldn’t. I basically stuffed a huge black plastic contractor’s bag full of the dirt & weed clumps, then turned it over so the open face was on the ground. Pierce a few holes in the top to let in water and air, and then…voila, instant composting bin.

Using the Rogue Triangle Scuffle Hoe

The scuffle hoe is a push-pull weeding hoe. That means you don’t so much chop with it as pull it toward you and push it away from you. I used the Rogue 80S, one of the bigger scuffle hoes, and got fairly proficient at using it after about an hour. The main thing to know is it’s actually harder to use when you keep it level and exactly horizontal. At that angle, you have to press down to make it effective. However, if you tilt it at an angle, then push and pull, it slices under the plants at the roots with its sharp blade edges and points. It’s very satisfying. Not what I’d call effortless, but not too hard, either.

Rogue Scuffle Hoe

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Step 3. Prepare the Beds

With the hardest part over, what you do at this stage depends on your soil, the size of your garden, and what kind of garden plot you want. What I did was this:

There were still a lot of weeds in the now-bare-faced yard. I weeded these stragglers mostly using the Rogue 80S scuffle hoe (it’s shaped like a triangle) and the hula hoe – actually called a stirrup hoe or loop hoe – by Glaser. I also chopped at them with the Hoedag and ika hoe. Then I rather laboriously raked the weeds into the compost pile.

Note that while I tried to get out all of the roots, many small bits and pieces of weed and grass remained. This was as good as it was going to get, though, as I didn’t see myself sifting the soil pint by pint.

Then, when the dirt was mostly dirt at last, I took the 70F Rogue field hoe and the rock rake and moved dirt around. Most of the dirt I was dealing with had been soil enhanced the previous year, so I was mixing that with the natural clay ground. If your soil needs enhancement, this is the time to add it.

The 70F cut and moved dirt like a dream. I took a short video and have included it here, but I don’t think it adds much because the quality of the video camera and my filmmaking was lacking. Note, though, that this huge hoe was cutting dirt even though I was only wielding it one-handed (using the other hand to hold the camera).

Me Using the 70F Field Hoe By Rogue

Using the Stirrup Hoe

Unlike the Rogue 80S, the Glaser stirrup hoe – and I presume any hula-hoe style tool – takes just a few minutes to figure out how to use. You lay the sharpened blade end of the head (the bottom part) on the ground and begin sliding the hoe toward you and away. The hoe is ratcheted in such a way that it rocks back and forth on the handle – that’s how it works, slicing patiently at dirt and plants. Although it’s easier when you start on a patch of dirt, you can actually get to work on top of short foliage, and if you do it long enough, you’ll eventually scrape away the weeds and hit dirt.

Sometimes the hoe will catch on a root or stem; when this happens, don’t try to force it. Just keep sliding back and forth, and if that doesn’t work after a few tries, get a different tool, like the Wilcox All-Pro trowel, the 55A Rogue garden hoe, the Red Pig Tools hand hoe or dandelion weeder, or anything that chops or pries and is convenient.

Note that this push-pull weeder, and the Rogue 80S, both are for removing weed tops and only roots that are just under the soil, not deep.

Long-handled stirrup hoe

Chris Telden, All Rights Reserved

Rogue Scuffle Hoe 80S 8″ x 5″ x 5″

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Rogue 80S again

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Dirt-moving Field Hoe 70F by Prohoe (Rogue line)

Chris Telden, All Rights Reserved

At this point, I piled dirt a couple of feet high into long hills about 2-3 feet apart. Then I walked along each hill with my rock rake and spread out the dirt, pulling it toward me (easier) and occasionally pushing it away (harder). The goal was to create beds 3-4 feet wide, with a foot-wide path between them.

As I smoothed out the raised beds, I removed additional weeds as they came up. I mostly left the grass blades and leaves, and focused on those ominous white, slim root strands that are so tenacious with grass.

Cutting or Prying Out Surprise Roots

Underneath the surface, lawns are messy, busy things, with lots of meandering, active root systems that will surprise you. Occasionally, I’d see some thick roots sticking out of the ground. I’m not sure if these were grass roots (we have every inhospitable kind of grass there is in our yard, I suspect), or other weeds’ roots. Whatever they were, I disposed of them by wielding the heavy ika hand hoe, the Red Pig hoe (that thing is MIGHTY) or, when the big guns were needed (usually, when the roots went deep into the clay soil), the Rogue 55A or 40X again, as described above – raise tool overhead, control the fall-swing, pry out of ground.

My four workhorse hoes. The fifth one I’d bought (a general garden hoe) remained in the garage for this project.

Read more: 6 Ways to Keep Rabbits Out of Your Garden

Chris Telden, All Rights Reserved

Amazon Carries Some of The Tools I Used

This article is accurate and true to the best of the author’s knowledge. Content is for informational or entertainment purposes only and does not substitute for personal counsel or professional advice in business, financial, legal, or technical matters.

© 2013 Chris Telden

Comments? Questions? Want to Share How YOU Turned Lawn Into Garden?

Carnette Eigsti on May 02, 2020:

Thank you for this article!! I started my front yard gardening yesterday. Wish I had seen this before I started.

Jill Townley from Portland, OR on April 11, 2020:

It really is best to dig out the sod. I tried to kill sod with cardboard once and it didn’t work well. I love Red Pig Tools! I bought their scuffle hoe for weeding similar to your Rogue one.

jeannie on March 25, 2018:

Seriously great job! I found no errors! lol I used to do all of my gardens by hand (with the same tools – old school, they last forever!), then I got old…now I am looking for one of those hated, environmental footprint machines ’cause I miss my fresh herbs and my flowers so much. Oh, to have teenage grandchildren:)

Chris Telden (author) from Pacific Northwest, U.S.A. on June 13, 2014:

Hi Rozalyn,

Gardening does a number on us, doesn’t it? When my physical therapist asked if I get exercise, I mentioned that I gardened. She scoffed, “That doesn’t count.” When I mentioned the same thing to my cardiologist, he wrote on my report that I got regular exercise. I think I can safely guess my PT wasn’t a gardener, but my cardio was or at least knew someone who was….!

Rozalyn Winters on June 13, 2014:

Great article! This is what I spent my day doing yesterday. I hate clay. Thankfully, it had rained the entire day before I started, which helped a little. But today I hurt all over–especially my hands, from all the digging.

JR Krishna from India on July 25, 2013:

Congratulations on hub of the day.

I loved reading your hub, pictures and videos.

rose-the planner from Toronto, Ontario-Canada on July 25, 2013:

Congratulations on HOTD, well deserved. Wow……………….this was definitely an insightful tutorial on turning a grassy area into a usable garden. The scything video was amazing but swinging that tool around looked a little scary, lol. My father and mother had the same feelings as you towards grass. Growing up we had a relatively large property and my parents, being avid gardeners, removed all the grass from the backyard and converted it into a thriving, unbelievably incredible vegetable garden. They even had a huge Pergola with grapes growing on it. They also had fruit trees and huge pots of colourful flowers. It was really something spectacular to see. This was wonderful! Thanks for sharing. (Voted Up) -Rose

Author Victoria Sheffield from Georgia on July 25, 2013:

How long did it take you to put together this hub? Great work!

Melissa Flagg COA OSC from Rural Central Florida on July 25, 2013:

I’ve been wanting to do this to my backyard for quite awhile now, but I just wasn’t sure how to go about doing it. This is a fantastic hub, and quite worthy of HOTD. I’ve bookmarked it so that I can come back to it when I start my garden!! Voted up and shared!

Liz Elias from Oakley, CA on July 25, 2013:

Congrats on HOTD! Well done!

We have a lawn in front–I like it. It is a cooling patch of green on hot summer days, and makes an excellent “platform” for our holiday display. We get hot summers, and chilly winters (but no snow). We don’t live in a bad area, but we are on a path kids use to and from a nearby school, and kids being kids, we’ve already suffered some mischief–I don’t think a veggie garden would survive well in front.

In back, we have a very large lot, but at our age (senior citizens; husband on disability and me recovering from knee replacement), it’s already too much to manage, and I have to have my grandson come to mow the green weeds…it’s not true lawn–very weedy, but at least it’s green.

Our main problem in both these areas is ROBO-GOPHERS! Nothing we plant is safe! We don’t have the money for materials to create raised beds, so, we use a very small side yard to grow a very few vegetables, but this year, we just didn’t have the energy or ability. **sigh** and this is the ONLY area (knock wood) that the (shh…gophers)..don’t seem to have discovered…

I admire your gumption, and I wish you bumper crops!

Liz Rayen from California on July 25, 2013:

I love gardening and love any information about gardening! This is a well designed hub with so much information. I am one who is truly grateful for you sharing this hub! Voted up and across and shared!

—-Lisa

Chace from Charlotte, NC on July 25, 2013:

How cool! I wish I had such a big yard. I’ve just started gardening and I’m in love with the idea of going out to pick some food I grew with my own hands and eating it!

Voted up and AWESOME. Congratulations on HotD!!

Chris Telden (author) from Pacific Northwest, U.S.A. on July 25, 2013:

Thank you so much, everyone. I’m so happy about my first Hub of the Day! The garden has been so much fun this year. I did receive my broadfork – a great, big, strong, hulking one by Meadow Creatures – and it’s helped make the work of breaking brand new ground so much easier, without killing my back or knees (yet). It hasn’t broken even though I’ve used it in dry, tough clay and rocks. What I’ve been doing is first using the broadfork to loosen the soil. THEN using a hoe to turn and break up the clumps, then the rake, etc.

Good luck to those of you intending to convert your lawns…it’s truly worth it. Things have obviously changed so much regarding our food supply, but you never know what might happen.

I was just reading a book about food in the middle ages in England. Back then, most home garden plots were a quarter acre in size, and a plot 100 square feet by 100 square feet was considered tiny. Wow, has that perspective changed…

RTalloni on July 25, 2013:

Congrats on your Hub of the Day award and for successfully turning your lawn into a garden plot. You’ve shared loads of detail here to help/encourage anyone interested in developing their own garden plot. Thanks for info and your experience with the tools.

Patricia Scott from North Central Florida on July 25, 2013:

Great instructions. There are so many possibilities when we have large yards. I hope to begin turning sections of my yard into homes for food. The soil is excellent here.

Thanks for sharing. Congrats on HOTD ps Pinned Angels are on the way to you today

Marsha Musselman from Michigan, USA on July 25, 2013:

Voted up and funny although it’s also informative and interesting. Also pinning.

I have hopes of turning a portion of my front yard into a flower garden although I will probably use a rototiller for most of the work, or hire that part out. By the time I will have the resources to get this done I will be close to retirement age, and I’m sure I won’t have the energy to work at it as you have.

I think you cold put some of your Amazon ads near the areas where you discuss their implementation.

Thelma Alberts from Germany on July 25, 2013:

Congrats on the HOTD! Great hub! A very well deserved, too. I agree with you that having a grass lawn is just a waste of space. It´s good if you turned it into a very productive garden. Thanks for sharing this very useful hub. Have a great day!

Lana Adler from California on July 25, 2013:

I’m totally for turning the lawn into something useful like a vegetable garden. People are so precious about their lawns, watering them, trimming them and putting up the “no poop zone” signs. What for? What’s so great about your sprayed or artificial grass no one can walk on? Now I’m ranting

It seems like it took a lot of effort on your part to turn your lawn into a garden. Great job! Thanks for the useful hub.

Chris Telden (author) from Pacific Northwest, U.S.A. on July 03, 2013:

Jean: Yes, it does seem like community gardens have gained a lot of momentum in the last 10 years or so…it’s exciting to see people taking their food intake into their own hands, so to speak. Regarding my bum knee…the problem isn’t so much kneeling, because, well, I don’t kneel anymore…too risky. It’s twisting the leg while bearing weight. I don’t THINK a broadfork should exacerbate it, but I haven’t tried one yet. Does anyone know…?

Chris Telden (author) from Pacific Northwest, U.S.A. on July 03, 2013:

Lesliebyars: Thank you so much! I really went all out trying to dig up all the stuff that I’d have liked to see before I started this project (pun intended). I just wish my video quality were better. Must do something about that!

lesliebyars on July 02, 2013:

Nice hub and the layout was perfect. Love the videos, pictures and the poll.

Jean Bakula from New Jersey on July 02, 2013:

A lot of towns are beginning community gardens in my area, in N.J. It’s fun and provides fresh veggies, and just looks good too. Then many realized food banks would really like to add some fresh foods to what is usually canned goods given to food pantries for people who need help paying for food. One near me let gardeners just put little flags on areas of what they grew that they were willing to give away, so the gardener doesn’t even have to be there. Just a thought. I never found a good way to not wreck the knees either. You could kneel on a mat of some type, but then you have to keep moving it.

Chris Telden (author) from Pacific Northwest, U.S.A. on July 02, 2013:

Thanks, Jean. I’m amazed at how many stories like yours I’ve been reading – of people turning soil that’s hard and difficult to work, for whatever reason, into productive soil. I think in these tough financial times, people are looking at their own labor differently and thinking, “You know, people way-back-when might have had the right idea, doing things by hand!”

We do live on quite a sizable area, at least, small for a farm, but large for a city girl! It’s not ours, but I’m free to garden it as I want. I’ve been thinking about other areas of the property that don’t have any soil amendments. I’ll probably need to go a bit deeper into the dirt and do more work and will need something to aerate the deep, compact soil – so I’m getting a broadfork to try. Here’s hoping it doesn’t wreck my knees!

Jean Bakula from New Jersey on July 01, 2013:

Wow, very impressive! I live on a wooded lane with terrible soil, and fight with it every year. I think those perfect, green, rug like lawns were the 1950s ideal, until people got wise to how bad all the chemicals they were using for that perfect lawn was destroying the environment. My soil (if it can be called that) is mostly clay and rock too. I have so much shade all I can really do are some herbs and flowers, but it does give me a lot of satisfaction. My fave tool is my Father’s old rock hammer, but my area of work is not as large as what it looks like you tackled in your excellent pictures. You should be proud, you did something useful, by growing food, and something better for the Earth, by getting rid of the lawn. There was a lawn here when my husband and I bought the house, but on further inspection, the seller just put down those strips of green sod, and there wasn’t enough light to support them for long. Mulch is great for unsightly areas where you really can’t do anything, and I also use planter pots to add a little color or something else to look at. Great job!

Source: https://livingcorner.com.au Category: Garden

source https://livingcorner.com.au/how-i-turned-a-grass-lawn-into-a-garden-plot/

So,

They called it the suicide blanket—the ominous, low-hanging fog that settled over Kootenay Lake and plunged Nelson into a perpetual grey gloom. 

Paisley and I huddled under porch blankets as the trees frosted at the summit of Elephant Mountain, the white descending slowly on to the city. Winter is coming. From the comfy warmth of our little hermitage I watched YouTube theory videos about Game of Thrones and scribbled on my chalkboard wall, creating character lists and fine-tuning a timeline for my ever-evolving thesis manuscript. I wanted it to be composed of multiple interlinking stories, like my favourite novel A Visit from the Goon Squad, but I was constantly swapping out one story for another, never reaching any conclusion. 

While Paisley worked on her desserts I huddled down at my laptop and hammered away at my real work. Journalism was still only a secondary concern in my head, a means to make money until I sold this manuscript and vaulted up into the world of novelists. I sent out excerpts to literary journals, receiving a flurry of rejection letters in response, and tried to ignore the fact that I hadn’t made any legit progress on my fiction since arriving in Nelson. I felt this insistent fear that I wasn’t good enough, that I wasn’t going to live up to my ambitions, while meanwhile Paisley would remind me that we had a pretty nice life and maybe I needed to chill out a bit, okay?

“I don’t think I can go into work today,” I said one morning. “I feel like somebody’s sitting on my chest. I can’t do this.”

“So take a sick day.”

“I don’t have any yet. You have to be an employee for like a year before you start getting them.”

“This is your mental health, Will. Calvin can handle things without you.”

I hesitated.

“Stay home and I’ll take care of you, okay? I don’t have a co-op shift today.”

Around that time I wrote a story for the Star about a music video called “Junkyard Bettie”. It was directed by a local dude named Jonathan Robinson and featured an Aussie singer named Sofiella Watt. She was backed up by her banjo-plucking hipster band the Huckleberry Bandits. Set in an actual junkyard just outside of town, the video told the story of a lonely young traveler struggling to make it through a Canadian winter. Oh, lady winter, you have done me wrong, you’ve done me wrong. Oh dark December, won’t you please be gone, please be gone? Played by Sofiella’s friend Lauren Herraman, the dark-eyed protagonist wanders morosely through a bleak landscape populated by derelict cars, only to discover some friends and end up at a barnyard dance party. When I interviewed Sofiella, she told me the lyrics were a true story she picked up from a housekeeping co-worker at a local hotel. The woman’s boyfriend had left her, her cat went missing, and all her missing posters were rained on and got torn down. 

Then the junkyard dog bit her.

“It was one of those quintessential blues song scenarios where everything goes wrong. I said ‘that’s terrible, but such an amazing story’. I asked her if I could write a song about that, because I could never make up something that good.”

I admired Sofiella’s ability to take a dark experience and create something beautiful out of it, but wasn’t sure how to accomplish that in the Star newsroom. Calvin had found himself embroiled in a number of community conflicts, and his stress level was rubbing off on everyone around him. I made excuses to leave the office when he was upset, setting up interviews across town or just wandering down to the park to take some pictures, because I couldn’t stand being around his energy. Tamara felt the same way, and when he wasn’t around we’d sit commiserating over all the unnecessary drama he’d brought into our lives.

“At the end of the day, you have to take care of yourself. And if Calvin’s negatively affecting your mental health, maybe that’s something you should report to management,” she said.

“I feel like such a whiner.”

“You’re not whining — you’re just expressing your truth.”

“The truth is I think he’s going to quit any day now, and I can’t wait.”

It wasn’t just work getting me down. Though I couldn’t admit it to myself, cannabis had become my primary mental health problem. In Victoria we’d been consuming a little baggie of weed a week, maybe two, while in Nelson we were literally burning through hundreds of dollars’ worth of pre-rolled joints a month.  Was it the solution, or was it the problem? It was like an extra rent payment. Somewhere along the line we started buying pot before groceries, and a few times we ended up with an empty fridge while we waited days for the next paycheck. Sometimes we went begging to our parents. It was our ritual, the way we bonded, watching Pineapple Express and making candy runs to 7-11, but it was also the way we coped with our feelings post-fight, it was how I treated my depression and she treated her pain, and increasingly it was more of a chore than a fun time.

As we started to make friends our age, it became apparent that we weren’t alone. We were surrounded by functional chronics, people who operated in a perma-stoned state, and for many of them cannabis was nearly interchangeable with coffee. Both were something you consumed to tweak your mood and outlook, both lasted a few hours, and both cost around five bucks a hit. I found myself hosting never-ending debates in my head about the benefits and drawbacks of my new lifestyle, trying to weigh what it was costing me against all the benefits I was becoming dependent on. Was my memory worse? Was I less present? Could I really stop smoking if I wanted to? Paisley and I repeatedly made vows to quit, sometimes lasting a few days, but inevitably it crept back into our lives. Whenever her parents visited we had to do a thorough job of hiding the evidence.

“I never would have predicted that I’d become a stoner,” said Paisley. “My whole life I avoided it, never touched it, was never interested. And now it’s got this fucking hold on me.”

“You can’t blame yourself.”

“Watch me.”

Despite this, Paisley’s job at Kootenay Co-op was going well and she was making new friends. Her desserts were generating us a third income, and she was writing recipes and coming up with new culinary innovations all the time. From September to December she was happily busy, walking downtown once a week to practice her burlesque routines at Boob Camp with Charlotte Coco Orchid, and the rest of the time she spent nesting with the dogs and decorating our house. She went out and purchased the costume she was going to need for the upcoming show, then showcased it in our living room before heading out to a photo shoot with the other women. She looked adorable, in clown makeup and fishnet stockings, and I held her in my arms.

“I’ve been thinking,” she said. “Maybe you should be in the show.”

I snorted. “It’s next week.”

“Charlotte’s looking for a male performer to pick up the clothes left on stage between sets. I was thinking about it, and you went to theatre school. You should totally do it.”

“I’m not going to do burlesque.”

“Why not?”

That was a good question. She continued to push the issue until I agreed to talk to Charlotte, and pretty soon I’d been recruited. Paisley took me out shopping for a pair of white “manties”, a baggy Speedo decorated with bright red hearts, then we bought a set of blood-coloured wings that matched the plush bow and arrow I would be carrying. I did love being onstage, and had arguably done more outrageous things in high school, but the concept of prancing around in my underwear in front of a bunch of Kootenay strangers definitely gave me pause. It would be a spectacle. For it to work properly I was going to have to be thoroughly shit-faced, I knew. I worked my way through four or five beers before we even headed down the hill to the show, at the Hume Hotel.

“You’re not allowed to hit on the other girls,” she said. “And don’t be creepy.”

“I won’t be creepy.”

“I mean it.”

“The only one I care about is you, okay?”

Once we arrived in the warm-up room, it was game on. Women were rushing in and out, changing from one costume into another, and some wild-haired dude was giving himself a sponge bath in the sink. Show-tunes and party anthems were blaring from nearby speakers. I met a little person named Cotton Candy and an older burlesque legend named Suzanna Sultry who the women all worshipped. We all posed together for a photo. One of Paisley’s friends took charge of decorating my torso with lipstick, inviting the others to leave kisses from my treasure trail to my collarbone. Don’t be creepy, I reminded myself, as they took turns kneeling in front of me. Over the months that Paisley’d been doing Boob Camp I’d come to know a bunch of them, and a few of us ducked into a back alley to smoke a joint. Upon my return the photographer grabbed me, and said she wanted a few shots of me with Paisley. I turned to her, held her close to my chest, and gave her a gentle kiss as the shutter snapped. Eventually Charlotte gathered everyone into a circle for a pep talk. The topless woman standing across from me was missing one of her nipple tassels, so was clutching her boob with one hand.

“Look at all the power in this room,” Charlotte said. “I am so proud of each and every one of you. You’re going to go out there and blow them away. You’ve done all the hard work, and now you get to reap the reward.”

Standing back-stage clutching a beer, feeling cold sweat collect in my hairline, I wondered if I was about to humiliate myself. There had been no rehearsals, no real instructions. Was I supposed to go out between every number, or just a select few? Was I supposed to dance, and if so, what kind of dance was I supposed to do? There’s a subversive element to burlesque, I knew, and a sense that nothing is sacred and everything is silly. I could get down with that. For her first performance Paisley marched out with the five other women, working her way through an elaborately choreographed sequence that saw the women crawling across the floor, hurling themselves on to their backs and spreading their legs wide. I congratulated her as she came breathlessly off-stage, then kissed her as Charlotte beckoned me forward. I was in bare feet, brandishing my bow and arrow, and upon my entrance the audience roared with approval. I gyrated, spinning around to bend over like a porn star, and frolicked drunkenly as I went searching for the various layers and lacy bits that had been left behind. Charlotte was loudly announcing something into the microphone as I gave the audience a last wink and departed. My back and shoulders were shimmering with sweat, my hair wet against my forehead, my limbs vibrating.

I can’t believe I just did that, I thought.

While the show progressed I stood at a gap in the curtains and looked out at the rowdy crowd, some of them in costumes, who were roaring and shouting for the performers onstage. These are my people, I thought. Charlotte was a champ, commandeering the entire thing while performing multiple sets herself, and Paisley cuddled up beside me. Charlotte chased Cotton Candy around the stage, both of them half-naked, and then a boylesque performer did a leather-clad striptease. I was continuing to drink, and somewhere along the way I’d been forgotten — which I was fine with. I wanted to get back into my real clothes, but that would mean cutting through the parking lot in my underwear. I was just planning my escape when Charlotte introduced Isla Valentine, who was performing her first ever solo set. A milky-skinned brunette, she slinked across the stage and threw herself down on a chair. She smiled languidly at the audience, undoing her bra. Upon release she whipped it into the air triumphantly and flung out her jiggling breasts — dislodging both her pasties, which flew into the audience.

“Oh, shit,” said Paisley, as the crowd gasped. “She must not have glued them right.”

Isla quickly clasped her hands to her nipples, her face furrowed, and for a moment it looked like the number would be over. But as we watched, a look of determination crossed Isla’s face. Fuck it. She dropped her hands, stood up, and continued dancing to elated whoops. Striding from one edge of the stage to the other, she jutted out her hips and whipped back her hair, grinning defiantly.

“Wow, she really went with that,” I said. “Good for her.”

“No, not good for her. She’s going to get Charlotte in trouble. She told us ahead of time: the hotel can get fined for nudity.”

“Really? You think they’ll actually fine Charlotte?”

“They could.”

“It was a mistake! What was she supposed to do?”

Paisley frowned. “You don’t get it.”

The remainder of that evening is a haze, but one memory remains intact: meeting Ryan Martin, the owner of the hotel. I’d heard from multiple people in town that he was an important person to know, a powerhouse in the business community, but we hadn’t crossed paths yet. While I padded along the carpet coming back from the bar, double-fisting and still in my underwear, I nearly bowled him over coming around a corner. As soon as I realized who he was I was embarrassed, and felt like I needed to explain myself. Nearly naked, with lipstick smeared all over my stomach and the crimson wings drooping over my shoulders, I knew I was something of a radical sight. I stammered out that I don’t actually drink that much, told him this wasn’t usual behaviour for me. He grinned and clapped me on the shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “This is the Kootenays.”

The Kootenay Goon

John Rattray Interview

John Rattray has been a friend of Slam City Skates for years. John spent a fair amount of time in London while filming for WFTW, the seminal UK video from Blueprint Skateboards. We were recently in Portland were John now resides and we were stoked that we managed to catch up with him to speak about the Good Egg Project among other things...

Where does this interview find you?

I’m in my house in Portland, Oregon right now. I’m sitting in bed in the attic, it’s Sunday morning and the boy is still asleep downstairs. How long have you been living in Portland for?

I’ve been here for around 5 years.

What’s the best thing about living out there, are there any drawbacks?

It’s an amazing city. It’s got walkable neighbourhoods, it’s pretty well set up for cycling, there are a bunch of skateparks dotted around all over the place. It’s in the Pacific Northwest, which is beautiful. It’s still rapidly expanding and it has the problems of any city really.

What we got to see was really beautiful, do you spend much time out in the mountains?

We try to get out and hike as much as possible. The summer is prime time. That’s when we’ll be hitting the Columbia Gorge and floating the rivers and heading to the coast the most, but through the winter and spring there are spells where you still get out there.

How long have you been working at Nike SB for?

I worked specifically at Nike SB for a little over 3 years. From late 2013 to the start of ‘17.

What’s your role there?

I was digital brand manager, so coordinating all the creative across all the online channels. For the last year I’ve been out of SB in a marketing innovation roll working across all of Nike. It’s been an interesting experience.

It must be nice working with Colin Kennedy again, we met a solid crew out there on this trip...

The Nike SB crew are awesome. I haven’t worked super close with Colin so much as he is strictly Europe. Hopefully things can evolve in that direction.

It was good seeing you do a backside air in Sandy Bodecker’s bowl. You’re still managing to keep skateboarding keen?

I manage to skate once or twice a week at this point. I skate mainly in the weekend mornings with Ivor at either the Nike warehouse or the eastside warehouse that Silas and that crew run. My friend Phil has a key there. Occasionally I get an evening session in at Nike and try to catch an air on the extension, skate the ledge and the euro gap and maintain muscle memory as best I can. It’s still the best to get deep into a session so your mind can switch off for a while.

Do you ever miss the life of being a pro skater or is dad life just as challenging?

I do miss it. Kind of. It’s a weird one. It seems like such a different life to now. It was just me and Philippa, living in California. I managed my own projects, traveling, skating, working towards video and editorial deadlines. It was a dream really but I sometimes feel like I could have done more to set myself up better to deal with…life after skateboarding. Not sure what steps that could have been. Long story short, I’d say dad life is way more challenging than pro-skater life, so yeah, I miss it, but there’s no reverse gear in life, so onward we charge.

Could you imagine yourself living back in Scotland one day in the future?

I totally can, I’m just not sure what I’d do there. Right now I just want to get as much work experience as I can so I can remain employable and moving is realistic. It also gets interesting with Ivor. He’ll be graduating pre-school this summer and we live round the corner from a k-5 school he’ll be going to.

Can you recommend us a book and a film that will enrich our lives?

It’s been a while since I’ve had the time to devote to books and film, which is a bit of a bummer. But if you’ve ever had chronic back pain, check out Healing Back Pain by John Sarno. If you wonder how evolution works, check out The Selfish Gene by Richard Dawkins. Film-wise, I just saw Coco in the cinema and it had me crying. It’s a good one.

It’s good to catch up with you after many years, we wanted to speak more about the project you just put together. Before we start we want to say that we were very sorry to hear the heartbreaking news about your sister. Lots of love goes out to you from all of us here at Slam.

Back at you.

Did it take long to put together the Good egg Project together?

I started the campaign in around early May ‘17, so about 9 months ago. We did the ride at the beginning of July, so it took a couple of months to get the crew and plan together. But I suppose it had been in the back of my mind for a couple of years before that.

What about getting other people on board?

That just naturally happened. As I put it out there that this was a real mission, friends hit me up to come with and support. It’s another example of the internet as a power for good. A tool that we can choose to use for our betterment.

Had you ever done anything like that for a charity before?

I have not.

Can you tell us a little more about the charity this was for?

I did this in support of the Scottish Association for Mental Health. My cousin started working there after Katrina died and they were there as a registered organization on the Just Giving app that I used to get the campaign going. So, it was a no brainer for me. The SAMH organization specializes in outreach and education around suicide prevention and mental health support in Scotland.

You mentioned filming pieces of this on your phone. Did you have a clear idea of what you needed to capture before you set out?

Capture the ride as best we can. Kurt Hayashi and Jon Humphries did a fantastic job on that. Scott Pommier helped shoot the skate session at Lincoln City. And beyond that it was writing and delivering my own pieces to tell the tale and get some of the points of view of the other crew on the ride. That’s where it gets more improvised and you collage it together based on what people come back with.

Did you edit the piece yourself?

I did.

Was the editing process a learning curve?

Learning curve was not too much. I’ve been consistently working on video projects of varying complexity for a long time. Not on the daily, but enough that I have a decent comprehension of the fundamental principles and can navigate premier fairly quickly. The main difference with this project was the workshopping. Sending work-in-progress versions around a select crew of friends and getting professional feedback on the various iterations as I built and refined the timeline. That process was vital to getting it into a watchable state for someone with not much context. That’s one of my main rules of thumb. Can someone who knows nothing about this, as well as someone who was literally on the trip, both sit and watch this and understand, sentence to sentence exactly what’s going on without getting lost or bored? It’s the same as writing an essay, except with moving images and audio to wrangle. There’re still things I’d do stylistically differently on a future project – I still feel like there’s a little too much straight-up piece-to-camera segments – but for now, I’m happy with how it came together.

What advice would you give to anyone else who wanted to put something like this together?

Make a to-do list. Get started. Go for it.

Was it gnarly physically? You must have had jelly legs when you started hoisting that egg plant out there...

The egg plant was the next day after the ride, so muscles were worked pretty hard, but I think it’s slightly different muscle tissue that’s used for riding distance as opposed to the quick reflexes for skating. That said, yeah, I was not exactly feeling the loosest I’ve ever felt. Definitely tight, but in the bad sense of the word haha.

Photo: Joe Brook

Are you going to throw one into every session now?

I wish. I want to get a good session going soon where I can get to the point of throwing myself upside down. Those sessions are too rare these days.

It’s great to see something positive like this arrive out there. How important do you think things like this are?

I think it’s super important or I wouldn’t have made this thing happen. I’d love to be able to be working on projects like this full time. That would be awesome.

What message do you hope is taken away?

That there is help out there for people with depression. That it’s way more common than we think. And that there are things we can do to help. Raise awareness, talk. I hope that it makes a tough subject a little more accessible by painting it into a positive context. I hope that it shines a little light into a world that can sometimes feel pretty dark.

Can you recommend any reading or support for anyone going through difficulties both suffering from depression or supporting someone who is?

Reading: In Scotland there are resources on the SAMH website. Support: family and friends. I know when you’re in the throes of it you can feel like you have no support, but I’m convinced that everyone has someone. Sometimes it’s luck. Get to the doctor. Chemistry can help symptoms.

Any last words...

I suppose it’s like Cardiel says in the video, there’s a little bit of light, if you can see just that little bit of light, grab onto that, and don’t let go.

This mission was in aid of SAMH who do a bunch of community work, suicide prevention training and mental health outreach around Scotland. In 2016, they carried out 177 suicide interventions and their work has been integral in reducing the suicide rate in Scotland by 17% over the last ten years. Find out more about the charity this was in aid of HERE

John Rattray Interview published first on https://medium.com/@LaderaSkateboar

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The budget pick for best bra is the Playtex Women's 18 Hour Original Comfort Strap Bra. This bra is incredibly inclusive, fitting women who wear anything from an A cup to a G cup. This bra maximizes support and comfort, giving you the ability to wear it all day with no back pain or soreness. Currently, this bra comes in sixteen different colors ranging from nudes to classing blacks to bold, fun hues. It also comes in several money saving multipacks, making it a great choice for literally everyone!

Finding the correct size and style of bra for your body type can be truly life changing. From helping with chronic back pain to making your clothes fit better, a well made, high quality bra can really make your life easier. Currently, it is believed that many women wear the wrong size, typically assuming they are smaller than they truly are. Getting fitted for a bra professionally can really help you to find something that works for your everyday life.

Bras should fit snugly against your breasts with no gapping or bunching. The straps should rest flat on your back and not pull or feel tight against your skin. Wires should not poke and the bra should not leave any lines in your skin from being too tight. Bras should not be uncomfortable or cumbersome to wear; instead they should be unnoticable and undetectable as you go about your day.

How To Pick:

When choosing a bra, you really need to consider the following:

Purpose: Will you be wearing the bra everyday to work or for special occasions? Do you want sex appeal or maximized comfort? Are you more into full coverage or demi-cups? Are the colors and prints available suitable for your wardrobe?

Sizing: Does the bra fit a wide variety of sizes? Will it comfortably fit your breasts? Do they offer a style that will accommodate your breast type?

Fabric Types: Do you prefer cotton or spandex? Lined or unlined? Heavy push-up padding or light padding? Does lace cause you to itch? Do you like silky textures or sturdy cotton?

Support: Are single clasps enough support for you or do you prefer double or triple clasp bras? Do you want underwire?

Our Pick

The Chantelle Women’s Rive Gauche T-Shirt Bra is our pick for the best bra due to its size selection (A to E cups) and classic, cute design. Purchasing any bra is a personalized and subjective experience but we feel this one works well across many sizes and body types, making it a great choice, especially for the price. The bra provides support and comfort along with a cute, floral lace lined design. The cups are soft microfiber and the clasps are strong, with one clasp on smaller sizes and two on larger for added support.

Flaws but Not Dealbreakers

Some reviews on the Amazon page say that the bra may not fit all breast types, as the cups are very rounded. The bra may also run a bit small so sizing up may be a good idea. If the bra does not fit, you can easily exchange it with no hassle to the Chantelle.

Step Up Pick

The Warner’s Women’s This is Not a Bra Full-Coverage Underwire Bra is our step up pick. In an incredibly diverse range of colors and patterns, there is something for every taste and style in this bra. The sizes here are not as inclusive as they are in Chantelle products, ranging only from B cups to DD cups, but a fair amount of women can still use this product. Voted “The Most Comfortable Bra” by New York Magazine, this bra is made of a nylon and spandex blend, giving it stretch and the ability to form fit to the wearer’s body. All in all, this is a solid, wonderful bra that would be great in any wardrobe.

Budget Pick

With our budget pick, the Playtex Women’s 18 Hour Original Comfort Strap Bra, let us first talk about the incredible sizing options. Playtex created bras in this style from B cups to G cups, making it the most size inclusive on this list! Almost anyone can find a bra in this style and there is certainly a color for everyone. The bra comes in shades ranging from classic nude, white, and black to jewel tones and sultry royal hues. This bra also sports thick straps for added support and comfort and a two piece cup to give a natural silhouette. If you are looking for a bra on a budget, this one is definitely worth considering.

Best Sports Bra

When working out, a sports bra is a must to prevent soreness, injury, and interference. A good sports bra can really change how you feel before, during, and after your workout so making the right call when purchasing is extra important. The Prolific Health Racerback Women Sports Bras Medium Impact Workout Fitness Power Flex Gym Yoga Activewear Bra is an excellent choice. With three sizes to fit anyone with an A to D cup, this bra features breathable, waterproof material and thick straps for added support. It comes in many colors, making it easy to find something that will suit your wardrobe preferences.

Best Adhesive Bra

When wearing dresses with cut out or nonexistent backs, it can be incredibly difficult to find a bra that does not show through. Trending recently, stick on bras have become one of the most popular new bras on the market. The HUBORLOVES Self Adhesive Deep U Plunge Bra Push Up Backless Sticky Adhesive Invisible Bra identifies itself as a deep u cut stick on bra that appears invisible under clothes. The deep cut cup creates lift and gives you full cleavage to accentuate every dress or top while the skin safe glue holds everything in place.

Best Bra Extenders

One of the worst feelings is finding the absolute perfect bra, only to discover that it does not come in your band size or taking it home and accidentally shrinking it in the wash. Bra extenders work with the clasp of your bra to give a little more length to your band. The Coco’s Closet Women’s Bra Extender 3 Hook Soft Back Comfortable Band Extenders for Bras will help extend your bra without taking away the cup shape or support you love. These are an excellent option for pregnant or nursing mothers who may experience a temporary fluctuation in breast size, as they give a little more room without the need to purchase a whole new set of bras. These extenders are high quality and come in several basic colors to compliment any bra you may own.

Best Nursing Bra

When you are breastfeeding, it can be a real pain to deal with a traditional bra and front clasping ones can often fail resulting in embarrassing moments. Nursing bras are amazing and give moms the freedom to nurse anywhere at any time. The Motherhood Seamless Clip Down Nursing Bra is made of nylon and spandex, giving stretch and comfort. It includes a simple clip at the top which can be undone, allowing the cup to be folded down for easy nursing. In four sizes and seven colors, this bra will work for most women and is visually appealing due to being less bulky than traditional nursing bras.

Best Strapless Bra

For sleeveless dresses and tops, a strapless bra is a must to prevent the appearance of unsightly straps. The Wacoal Women’s Plus Size Red Carpet Strapless bra comes in an extended array of sizes, with a secondary listing including the smaller sizing options. This bra comes in three colors and can comfortably be worn with little to no slippage throughout the day. The underwire gives support and removable straps are included to allow this bra to be converted to a traditional bra or criss crossed straps depending on your outfit’s needs. If you are in the market for a new strapless addition, check this one out for sure.

Best Pasties

Nudwear’s Daisies Nipple Pasties for Women Nippleless Cover Nipple Cover Breast Petal Bra is a perfect choice if you want the coverage of a bra without the bulk. Pasties work by using a small adhesive tab to adhere to the nipple and areola, covering the area and preventing slippage. You can then wear whatever you normally would without worrying about accidentally being exposed. The adhesive is skin safe and will not hurt during removal. The pads are reusable if stored properly and affordable, making them a great choice for trying out pasties.

Bra FAQ

Why wear a bra?

There are tons of reasons to choose to wear a bra. Though many opt not to, the support from a bra can really help to alleviate back, neck, and shoulder pain. It also may just be aesthetically appealing or make the wearer feel attractive. No one has to wear a bra, though it is a popular choice. It is entirely personal, the choice is up to you!

Can you sleep in a bra?

Of course. There is little evidence to support the old wives tale that sleeping in a bra is damaging to your health. If you find it to be more comfortable, go for it! Be careful not to damage your bra while resting though, as it is easy to bend or break underwire in your sleep.

Is it normal for one breast to be larger than the other?

Yep! Most women have one breast that is larger than the other; some find it to be more noticeable than others. Either way, this is completely okay and normal!

I cannot find my size in stores, is this normal?

Many mass retailers like Victoria’s Secret and Walmart only carry smaller sizes due to them being statistically more common. If you are larger, you may need to special order a bra or seek a store that can cater to you, unfortunately.

What should I do if my bra is uncomfortable?

  First off, check to ensure you are wearing the correct size. If your bra is pinching or leaving red lines, it is time to size up. If it is pulling away from your chest or poking, it is like too small. Either way, grabbing a new bra or trying a new style may entirely solve the problem. Not everyone enjoys wearing a demi-cup and if you prefer full coverage (or vice versa), maybe make the switch. Each person has their own preferences and yours are fine!

final week of the semester.

my voice teacher is incredible.

im listening to him singing as i write this and wow its making me feel so emo haha.

john texted me today.

he said he read all my letters.

this past weekend was really fun.

on wednesday, i borrowed brixton’s car and drove to irvine and driving alone on a semi empty freeway with a playlist full of your favorite songs is just the best feeling ever. but i drove to shin’s and we actually spent a handful of hours together lol. we first just sat in the car and sang to the script and then the first time we fucked, he literally came so quickly haha it was actually kinda insane. and then we just sorta laid there in the back and cuddled and talked for the next hour.  after the second round we eventually decided he should go back to studying but we decided to shoot some hoops :p before saying bye, so we went to the court right by his house and he showed me how to play. then i hung out with brian briefly and basically just drove around irvine until i decided donut star was the only place open LOL. then the weekend came, but i had work friday night so i wasnt expecting to see shin.  i wasn’t really checking my phone but i was in a lot of pain cause i was really hungry and high lmao. he had texted me asking if i need him to bring me any food or drink but since i was auxing i wasnt checking my phone, so i had no idea he had asked. i was just going about trying to survive the rest of my shift and then harry looked for me saying someone was on the phone for me. i was quite confused cause i couldnt think of who would call me through WORK, but when i picked up the line was silent. i didnt think anything of it honestly, thought it was some prank if anything. then i checked my phone and was sad i didnt see it earlier. i went home and showered and shin called me and then told me it was him who called LOLOLOLOLOL cutest thing ever. then he said we can go get food, so he came to get me and he said he wanted to be home by 1, if not 12:30 and it was like around 11:45 or something so i rolled my eyes and agreed. he got ice cream first ofc, and then we went to the innout at utc and i said i wanted boba too so we parked first to get cha. then we went through the drive thru and then he stopped at pv :p and i ate and these like 4 cars all pulled up and parked one by one and they were obviously high schoolers just trynna smoke probably but they left and then came back in one car just to “have a good laugh” attempting to scare us or some shit? lol but shin said a lot of sweet things. and things that i feel the same exact way about. like, he said hes so happy he met me, and that he cant imagine his life without me. he also said that he thinks he might like me.  i didn’t really say anything, and even when he kept asking what i was thinking about i didn’t say anything.  he did reiterate that he doesn’t want to be in a relationship and i get that but yeah. then on saturday omg i probably won’t ever let go of this but i made him wait like almost 40 min in front of my house...... i was getting out of coco with karina and i thought i would be home around 8/8:15 but traffic was so bad and shin wanted to get chronic tacos for dinner so he was gonna get me after gyming but yeah :( i feel really bad still. i felt rlly bad so as soon as i got in the car he like basically told me the sitch and so i started crying LOL i just fucking hate doing that to people.  then i got home and ate my burrito while watching the office and then just stayed in bed till i slept and then i woke up at like 3 cause shin called me and then i stayed on the phone with him till he was done with his work and we hung up around 5. but he asked if i wanted to study with him the next day and i was really down so we said ok 10 am and said good night. before  the first time i fell asleep, he called me just to tell me he fnished his big ass burrito and was like “i dont know why but yeah i just wanted to tell you” haha. 

then i woke up around 11 and called him and every time i called, his sleepy ass would pick up, but would say he needs like 20 more min haha and i could tell how sleepy he was so i let him sleep till a little before 2.  then he came and got me and we got to uci and found a room and worked and stayed there until a little before 8. i took a little break in between to meet with karina at cha to get my wallet and boba. josh was working and i wanted to tell him i was with shin haha but he was making drinks and didnt take my order so i didnt. the sky was so beautiful! i was really happy that i took that break and didnt miss the sunset. lowkey wish shin and i took a break together though to see the sunset together.  but yeah then shin said we can go get seulangtang so we said ok at 8 we’ll leave and eat. oh i also saw justin!!! he was studying in the same area as us after we moved. Then we left and ate and it was dankies.  he ate so much odang.... like 5 dishes...............  and then we tried getting ice cream but rite aid didnt have anything cause apparently thats a thing on sundays and then he dropped me home.

that was my weekend

John Rattray Interview

John Rattray has been a friend of Slam City Skates for years. John spent a fair amount of time in London while filming for WFTW, the seminal UK video from Blueprint Skateboards. We were recently in Portland were John now resides and we were stoked that we managed to catch up with him to speak about the Good Egg Project among other things...

Where does this interview find you?

I’m in my house in Portland, Oregon right now. I’m sitting in bed in the attic, it’s Sunday morning and the boy is still asleep downstairs. How long have you been living in Portland for?

I’ve been here for around 5 years.

What’s the best thing about living out there, are there any drawbacks?

It’s an amazing city. It’s got walkable neighbourhoods, it’s pretty well set up for cycling, there are a bunch of skateparks dotted around all over the place. It’s in the Pacific Northwest, which is beautiful. It’s still rapidly expanding and it has the problems of any city really.

What we got to see was really beautiful, do you spend much time out in the mountains?

We try to get out and hike as much as possible. The summer is prime time. That’s when we’ll be hitting the Columbia Gorge and floating the rivers and heading to the coast the most, but through the winter and spring there are spells where you still get out there.

How long have you been working at Nike SB for?

I worked specifically at Nike SB for a little over 3 years. From late 2013 to the start of ‘17.

What’s your role there?

I was digital brand manager, so coordinating all the creative across all the online channels. For the last year I’ve been out of SB in a marketing innovation roll working across all of Nike. It’s been an interesting experience.

It must be nice working with Colin Kennedy again, we met a solid crew out there on this trip...

The Nike SB crew are awesome. I haven’t worked super close with Colin so much as he is strictly Europe. Hopefully things can evolve in that direction.

It was good seeing you do a backside air in Sandy Bodecker’s bowl. You’re still managing to keep skateboarding keen?

I manage to skate once or twice a week at this point. I skate mainly in the weekend mornings with Ivor at either the Nike warehouse or the eastside warehouse that Silas and that crew run. My friend Phil has a key there. Occasionally I get an evening session in at Nike and try to catch an air on the extension, skate the ledge and the euro gap and maintain muscle memory as best I can. It’s still the best to get deep into a session so your mind can switch off for a while.

Do you ever miss the life of being a pro skater or is dad life just as challenging?

I do miss it. Kind of. It’s a weird one. It seems like such a different life to now. It was just me and Philippa, living in California. I managed my own projects, traveling, skating, working towards video and editorial deadlines. It was a dream really but I sometimes feel like I could have done more to set myself up better to deal with…life after skateboarding. Not sure what steps that could have been. Long story short, I’d say dad life is way more challenging than pro-skater life, so yeah, I miss it, but there’s no reverse gear in life, so onward we charge.

Could you imagine yourself living back in Scotland one day in the future?

I totally can, I’m just not sure what I’d do there. Right now I just want to get as much work experience as I can so I can remain employable and moving is realistic. It also gets interesting with Ivor. He’ll be graduating pre-school this summer and we live round the corner from a k-5 school he’ll be going to.

Can you recommend us a book and a film that will enrich our lives?

It’s been a while since I’ve had the time to devote to books and film, which is a bit of a bummer. But if you’ve ever had chronic back pain, check out Healing Back Pain by John Sarno. If you wonder how evolution works, check out The Selfish Gene by Richard Dawkins. Film-wise, I just saw Coco in the cinema and it had me crying. It’s a good one.

It’s good to catch up with you after many years, we wanted to speak more about the project you just put together. Before we start we want to say that we were very sorry to hear the heartbreaking news about your sister. Lots of love goes out to you from all of us here at Slam.

Back at you.

Did it take long to put together the Good egg Project together?

I started the campaign in around early May ‘17, so about 9 months ago. We did the ride at the beginning of July, so it took a couple of months to get the crew and plan together. But I suppose it had been in the back of my mind for a couple of years before that.

What about getting other people on board?

That just naturally happened. As I put it out there that this was a real mission, friends hit me up to come with and support. It’s another example of the internet as a power for good. A tool that we can choose to use for our betterment.

Had you ever done anything like that for a charity before?

I have not.

Can you tell us a little more about the charity this was for?

I did this in support of the Scottish Association for Mental Health. My cousin started working there after Katrina died and they were there as a registered organization on the Just Giving app that I used to get the campaign going. So, it was a no brainer for me. The SAMH organization specializes in outreach and education around suicide prevention and mental health support in Scotland.

You mentioned filming pieces of this on your phone. Did you have a clear idea of what you needed to capture before you set out?

Capture the ride as best we can. Kurt Hayashi and Jon Humphries did a fantastic job on that. Scott Pommier helped shoot the skate session at Lincoln City. And beyond that it was writing and delivering my own pieces to tell the tale and get some of the points of view of the other crew on the ride. That’s where it gets more improvised and you collage it together based on what people come back with.

Did you edit the piece yourself?

I did.

Was the editing process a learning curve?

Learning curve was not too much. I’ve been consistently working on video projects of varying complexity for a long time. Not on the daily, but enough that I have a decent comprehension of the fundamental principles and can navigate premier fairly quickly. The main difference with this project was the workshopping. Sending work-in-progress versions around a select crew of friends and getting professional feedback on the various iterations as I built and refined the timeline. That process was vital to getting it into a watchable state for someone with not much context. That’s one of my main rules of thumb. Can someone who knows nothing about this, as well as someone who was literally on the trip, both sit and watch this and understand, sentence to sentence exactly what’s going on without getting lost or bored? It’s the same as writing an essay, except with moving images and audio to wrangle. There’re still things I’d do stylistically differently on a future project – I still feel like there’s a little too much straight-up piece-to-camera segments – but for now, I’m happy with how it came together.

What advice would you give to anyone else who wanted to put something like this together?

Make a to-do list. Get started. Go for it.

Was it gnarly physically? You must have had jelly legs when you started hoisting that egg plant out there...

The egg plant was the next day after the ride, so muscles were worked pretty hard, but I think it’s slightly different muscle tissue that’s used for riding distance as opposed to the quick reflexes for skating. That said, yeah, I was not exactly feeling the loosest I’ve ever felt. Definitely tight, but in the bad sense of the word haha.

Photo: Joe Brook

Are you going to throw one into every session now?

I wish. I want to get a good session going soon where I can get to the point of throwing myself upside down. Those sessions are too rare these days.

It’s great to see something positive like this arrive out there. How important do you think things like this are?

I think it’s super important or I wouldn’t have made this thing happen. I’d love to be able to be working on projects like this full time. That would be awesome.

What message do you hope is taken away?

That there is help out there for people with depression. That it’s way more common than we think. And that there are things we can do to help. Raise awareness, talk. I hope that it makes a tough subject a little more accessible by painting it into a positive context. I hope that it shines a little light into a world that can sometimes feel pretty dark.

Can you recommend any reading or support for anyone going through difficulties both suffering from depression or supporting someone who is?

Reading: In Scotland there are resources on the SAMH website. Support: family and friends. I know when you’re in the throes of it you can feel like you have no support, but I’m convinced that everyone has someone. Sometimes it’s luck. Get to the doctor. Chemistry can help symptoms.

Any last words...

I suppose it’s like Cardiel says in the video, there’s a little bit of light, if you can see just that little bit of light, grab onto that, and don’t let go.

This mission was in aid of SAMH who do a bunch of community work, suicide prevention training and mental health outreach around Scotland. In 2016, they carried out 177 suicide interventions and their work has been integral in reducing the suicide rate in Scotland by 17% over the last ten years. Find out more about the charity this was in aid of HERE

John Rattray Interview published first on https://medium.com/@LaderaSkateboar

John Rattray Interview

John Rattray has been a friend of Slam City Skates for years. John spent a fair amount of time in London while filming for WFTW, the seminal UK video from Blueprint Skateboards. We were recently in Portland were John now resides and we were stoked that we managed to catch up with him to speak about the Good Egg Project among other things...

Where does this interview find you?

I’m in my house in Portland, Oregon right now. I’m sitting in bed in the attic, it’s Sunday morning and the boy is still asleep downstairs. How long have you been living in Portland for?

I’ve been here for around 5 years.

What’s the best thing about living out there, are there any drawbacks?

It’s an amazing city. It’s got walkable neighbourhoods, it’s pretty well set up for cycling, there are a bunch of skateparks dotted around all over the place. It’s in the Pacific Northwest, which is beautiful. It’s still rapidly expanding and it has the problems of any city really.

What we got to see was really beautiful, do you spend much time out in the mountains?

We try to get out and hike as much as possible. The summer is prime time. That’s when we’ll be hitting the Columbia Gorge and floating the rivers and heading to the coast the most, but through the winter and spring there are spells where you still get out there.

How long have you been working at Nike SB for?

I worked specifically at Nike SB for a little over 3 years. From late 2013 to the start of ‘17.

What’s your role there?

I was digital brand manager, so coordinating all the creative across all the online channels. For the last year I’ve been out of SB in a marketing innovation roll working across all of Nike. It’s been an interesting experience.

It must be nice working with Colin Kennedy again, we met a solid crew out there on this trip...

The Nike SB crew are awesome. I haven’t worked super close with Colin so much as he is strictly Europe. Hopefully things can evolve in that direction.

It was good seeing you do a backside air in Sandy Bodecker’s bowl. You’re still managing to keep skateboarding keen?

I manage to skate once or twice a week at this point. I skate mainly in the weekend mornings with Ivor at either the Nike warehouse or the eastside warehouse that Silas and that crew run. My friend Phil has a key there. Occasionally I get an evening session in at Nike and try to catch an air on the extension, skate the ledge and the euro gap and maintain muscle memory as best I can. It’s still the best to get deep into a session so your mind can switch off for a while.

Do you ever miss the life of being a pro skater or is dad life just as challenging?

I do miss it. Kind of. It’s a weird one. It seems like such a different life to now. It was just me and Philippa, living in California. I managed my own projects, traveling, skating, working towards video and editorial deadlines. It was a dream really but I sometimes feel like I could have done more to set myself up better to deal with…life after skateboarding. Not sure what steps that could have been. Long story short, I’d say dad life is way more challenging than pro-skater life, so yeah, I miss it, but there’s no reverse gear in life, so onward we charge.

Could you imagine yourself living back in Scotland one day in the future?

I totally can, I’m just not sure what I’d do there. Right now I just want to get as much work experience as I can so I can remain employable and moving is realistic. It also gets interesting with Ivor. He’ll be graduating pre-school this summer and we live round the corner from a k-5 school he’ll be going to.

Can you recommend us a book and a film that will enrich our lives?

It’s been a while since I’ve had the time to devote to books and film, which is a bit of a bummer. But if you’ve ever had chronic back pain, check out Healing Back Pain by John Sarno. If you wonder how evolution works, check out The Selfish Gene by Richard Dawkins. Film-wise, I just saw Coco in the cinema and it had me crying. It’s a good one.

It’s good to catch up with you after many years, we wanted to speak more about the project you just put together. Before we start we want to say that we were very sorry to hear the heartbreaking news about your sister. Lots of love goes out to you from all of us here at Slam.

Back at you.

Did it take long to put together the Good egg Project together?

I started the campaign in around early May ‘17, so about 9 months ago. We did the ride at the beginning of July, so it took a couple of months to get the crew and plan together. But I suppose it had been in the back of my mind for a couple of years before that.

What about getting other people on board?

That just naturally happened. As I put it out there that this was a real mission, friends hit me up to come with and support. It’s another example of the internet as a power for good. A tool that we can choose to use for our betterment.

Had you ever done anything like that for a charity before?

I have not.

Can you tell us a little more about the charity this was for?

I did this in support of the Scottish Association for Mental Health. My cousin started working there after Katrina died and they were there as a registered organization on the Just Giving app that I used to get the campaign going. So, it was a no brainer for me. The SAMH organization specializes in outreach and education around suicide prevention and mental health support in Scotland.

You mentioned filming pieces of this on your phone. Did you have a clear idea of what you needed to capture before you set out?

Capture the ride as best we can. Kurt Hayashi and Jon Humphries did a fantastic job on that. Scott Pommier helped shoot the skate session at Lincoln City. And beyond that it was writing and delivering my own pieces to tell the tale and get some of the points of view of the other crew on the ride. That’s where it gets more improvised and you collage it together based on what people come back with.

Did you edit the piece yourself?

I did.

Was the editing process a learning curve?

Learning curve was not too much. I’ve been consistently working on video projects of varying complexity for a long time. Not on the daily, but enough that I have a decent comprehension of the fundamental principles and can navigate premier fairly quickly. The main difference with this project was the workshopping. Sending work-in-progress versions around a select crew of friends and getting professional feedback on the various iterations as I built and refined the timeline. That process was vital to getting it into a watchable state for someone with not much context. That’s one of my main rules of thumb. Can someone who knows nothing about this, as well as someone who was literally on the trip, both sit and watch this and understand, sentence to sentence exactly what’s going on without getting lost or bored? It’s the same as writing an essay, except with moving images and audio to wrangle. There’re still things I’d do stylistically differently on a future project – I still feel like there’s a little too much straight-up piece-to-camera segments – but for now, I’m happy with how it came together.

What advice would you give to anyone else who wanted to put something like this together?

Make a to-do list. Get started. Go for it.

Was it gnarly physically? You must have had jelly legs when you started hoisting that egg plant out there...

The egg plant was the next day after the ride, so muscles were worked pretty hard, but I think it’s slightly different muscle tissue that’s used for riding distance as opposed to the quick reflexes for skating. That said, yeah, I was not exactly feeling the loosest I’ve ever felt. Definitely tight, but in the bad sense of the word haha.

Photo: Joe Brook

Are you going to throw one into every session now?

I wish. I want to get a good session going soon where I can get to the point of throwing myself upside down. Those sessions are too rare these days.

It’s great to see something positive like this arrive out there. How important do you think things like this are?

I think it’s super important or I wouldn’t have made this thing happen. I’d love to be able to be working on projects like this full time. That would be awesome.

What message do you hope is taken away?

That there is help out there for people with depression. That it’s way more common than we think. And that there are things we can do to help. Raise awareness, talk. I hope that it makes a tough subject a little more accessible by painting it into a positive context. I hope that it shines a little light into a world that can sometimes feel pretty dark.

Can you recommend any reading or support for anyone going through difficulties both suffering from depression or supporting someone who is?

Reading: In Scotland there are resources on the SAMH website. Support: family and friends. I know when you’re in the throes of it you can feel like you have no support, but I’m convinced that everyone has someone. Sometimes it’s luck. Get to the doctor. Chemistry can help symptoms.

Any last words...

I suppose it’s like Cardiel says in the video, there’s a little bit of light, if you can see just that little bit of light, grab onto that, and don’t let go.

Find out more about the charity this was in aid of HERE

John Rattray Interview published first on https://medium.com/@LaderaSkateboar