My thumbs hurt so much but I am VERY satisfied with the amount of video game played during this ice storm

So I think it was worth aggravating my RSIs in both hands and the only thing stopping me from bringing my switch to work with me to play at lunch is that I know I absolutely would not want to stop to what, DO MORE WORK???? lol!

Anyway I don’t really want to go back to work and certainly don’t want to do the Main Tasks of the week (prepare for the prospie visit on Friday, which is, against all odds, still happening somehow). I’m not super looking forward to going back to work, but going on LinkedIn even briefly and reading one (1) job ad made me even more bummed out, so none of that for now!! I will work at this job that is easy and pays terribly and has a current supervisor who doesn’t know shit about the department she’s worked in for 20 years or how it works, but makes throwing parties a priority. Yay!!

BTV -WIP Wednesday

Pinglist: @kita-lavellan | @mrstethras | @silvanils | @noire-pandora | @jarakrisafis | @followingthewolf | @kikimortis | @stopwiththeinsanty​ | @faelavellan​ |

It’s that time again (k it’s not wednesday yet but close enough)! For this week’s WIP Wednesday I’m bringing you the longer scene that I teased in 6 sentence Sunday from my Cullen x Lavellan fic!

Haven was silent as Cullen headed in from the training grounds. He had stayed out to do some training of his own and had barely noticed how late it was. As he was heading back to the Chantry, he noticed a shadowy figure sitting on top of the roof of one of the houses. Specifically the Herald’s house if he wasn’t mistaken. As he approached the house, he noticed that it was, in fact, Lady Lavellan.

“Are you alright up there?” he called up.

Rhiannon was startled to hear someone call out to her. She jumped up a bit, dropping the book and spilling the ink. She reached out to try and save it but ended up spilling ink all over her hands and watching the book along with her pen and ink jar fall to the ground below her.

Looking down, she noticed that it was Cullen who had called out to her. He reached down to pick up the book. Rhiannon panicked and quickly jumped down from the roof to stop him.

“Wait, don’t open that!” she warned, rushing toward him to grab the book.

Cullen looked at her, confused.

“It’s just…well…” she stammered, “bad things could happen if you do.”

“Is it cursed?” Cullen asked, with a nervous laugh.

“Well, it’s not cursed per say, I didn’t put a curse on it or anything” Rhiannon said, “it’s more like, well, there’s an elven superstition that if you open a mage’s book of shadows then you’ll have bad luck for a long time.”

Cullen was not looking very reassured as he slowly handed the book back to Rhiannon. Her heart was pounding. If she had ever had a chance with him, this was certainly not making that chance any greater.

“Look, it’s probably not even be real,” Rhiannon clarified, “it’s just a superstition, meant to scare off just anyone from peeking at the Keeper’s texts. I’m just telling you because, well, I didn’t want you to end up accidentally cursing yourself because I’m not sure if I could even break that kind of curse so I just thought I’d keep you safe and all.”

Rhiannon began to flip through the book, seeing that she had managed to ruin the star chart she was working on, along with a few blank pages. She quietly cursed to herself in Elvhen.

“Is everything alright?” Cullen asked, still somewhat caught off guard by Rhiannon’s frantic description of the curse, or well not-really-curse.

“Well, I’ve managed to ruin a few pages of this thing, and now I’m leaving ink prints all over it as well but other than that, I’m fine,” she said, closing the book.

Cullen laughed. “I’m surprised that doesn’t happen more often,” he commented, “do you always try to write in high places?”

“I’ve done this in trees before,” she explained, “I’ve never had a problem, I was just a bit…startled.”

“I’m sorry I frightened you then,” Cullen said, “I should have learned by now that frightening a mage doesn’t tend to end well.”

“Oh I’m not going to summon demons to attack you or anything if that’s what you’re worried about,” Rhiannon said, frantically trying to reassure him, “the curse thing probably isn’t even real anyways. I mean, if you’re worried I can do some kind of warding or protection spell…”

“I think you made it down fast enough,” Cullen said, “I’m sure I’ll be alright.”

“I’m really sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I promise.”

“You can relax, Lady Lavellan,” Cullen assured her. “I trust that nothing bad will come, from this at least.”

Rhiannon breathed a sigh of relief. “Well, I’d better go redo this whole thing,” she said, “there’s only so much night left.”

“Until tomorrow,” Cullen said, turning to leave.

As he continued towards the Chantry, Cullen couldn’t help but smile to himself. It was sometimes hard to believe that she was a mage. She didn’t scare him like other mages sometimes did. She was quite the opposite of the image of the big scary mage that the chantry and his experiences in Kinloch and Kirkwall had burned into his mind. It was almost sweet, the way she tried to warn him about a curse that probably wasn’t even real.

He did feel bad about startling her and causing her to spill so much ink everywhere. Her hands would probably be stained for days. She had just looked so beautiful sitting up on that roof, staring up at the sky. He couldn’t stop himself from calling out to her. Albeit, that interaction probably didn’t make her think very highly of him, considering that he was the reason a few pages of her book were ruined. Still, it didn’t stop him from thinking about her.

Week 4

School

I honestly just didn’t feel like doing daily updates. Classes have been good, I haven’t dropped any of them. I can tolerate the work load. Most of the instruction is online. I’ve opted to go to my Sociology class on Mondays and Wednesdays when I can, and Japanese is only hosted in class on Wednesday. The rest of it is online discussion boards. I don’t have to show up for any video calls other than Japanese on Fridays. 

The dorm is okay. My sister and I think that our roommate is fake though. She got super upset about dishes or something, but didn’t tell us an issue. I over herd her complaining to her boyfriend before she slammed the door as she left and didn’t come back for like a whole ass day. I’m over it though. I really don’t care. We do our dishes, at least they are clean. Though we do know now to not forget to then put them away, but it’s not like its 10+ dishes, mostly 5 or less. Our roommate though will leave dishes in there overnight or through the whole day so like, she has the bigger issue. ANYWAYS.

I honestly haven’t stayed at the dorm much. I’ve come home pretty much every weekend except for move in weekend. Meaning I sleep there maybe 3 nights before going home. I was going to go back after labor day weekend and then stay the whole week (8 days) before coming back but my little brother’s birthday party is later this month and it “messed up” my hypothetical plan.

Job w/School

A few days ago, Eric suggested since I’m most likely going to be coming home every weekend, why not go back to work. I’ve been talking about going back to work since my funds have pretty much dried out already and who knows when my school money will get here. I had already applied to a store 6 minutes from where I’m staying at campus but I haven’t heard back. And I know at the store I used to work, it’s a guaranteed job.

So on Friday (two days ago) I went there and asked Anthony for my job and ofc he said yes. They’ve been struggling with having enough of people so I’m very much needed right now. 

The plan is to work Thursday - Saturday, about 6 hours each day. I’ll go back to campus on Sunday and then be there until Wednesday evening or Thursday morning before coming back home to work. I’m glad to be going back to work.

Labor day messed up going back this week though. I’ve only really got one class this week and it’s Sociology on Wednesday, I don’t even have to go to that though, I can do that online. So I’ve opted to just drop my sister off at the dorm on Monday evening and get my clothes to do laundry, and then come back. Then I’ll work Tuesday - Saturday just to rack up some hours before going back to campus on Sunday evening. Then we go to the schedule mentioned above.

I think it’ll be a good plan? That way I’m going to school, but also having a purpose to come home and won’t feel too guilty for doing so. And this doesn’t even have to be an all school year thing. I could just do this this semester and then next semester, be more on campus, with more in person classes. Boom plan.

Therapy

Therapy has been okay. We have moved slightly away from anxiety and I’m trying to push it more of in a gender direction. Don’t get me wrong, I still suffer from anxiety and it sucks, but right now gender has been screaming at me just a bit more, so I’m going to finally pay attention to it. It’s been ignored for long enough and it’s about time I figure out who I am. 

I do feel guilty for not using my coping strategies I’ve been taught. I should use them more. The worry tree, my popsical sticks, what I can and can’t control, etc. But I am so so focused on my gender issues that I kind of forget to, either that or my anxiety is just swept under and it’s going to manifest again and get worse.

She had to cancel our last session. I figured it was because last time she told me that she was going on a trip this weekend for labor day and that I was her last scheduled for Friday morning. I guess something came up and I wasn’t able to be seen. That’s fine though. I just don’t know when my next appointment is, which is a bit scary because it seems to be that every time I go to schedule one, she’s almost all booked for the next week. 

Tbh I’m a bit nervous. I hope that the notification doesn’t bother her. I’m sorry. I forgot I could request an appointment so I just did for Thursday at 4:30, which means I might just ask for Thursday off so I can go to campus and get Sabrina and do Eric’s thing and have therapy online. Either that or I can just request to go in at 6. I need to figure out something soon though bc it’s Sunday. Hmmmm. I think I’ll just go in at six.

Gender

The last topic I wanted to rant about today, honestly the thing that made me come here. I keep saying I don’t know but like, I know some things. I right now am between non-binary and trans.

Non-binary describes the moments where I just don’t give a fuck about my gender. It’s like, something in the back of my mind. I still don’t like female pronouns or body bits and things, but it’s not “important”. I tend to aim towards an androgyny look, but at the same time, shorts don’t really bother me, I see it as a necessity bc it’s hot.

Trans describes mainly what I’m feeling right now. Where I really don’t like body bits or how I’m viewed socially. I get dysphoria over my chest, and bottom bits. I want to bind or chop off my tits. I want to appear as male and start Testosterone. The issue with that is I really don’t want all of the extra body hair or a super deep voice. Also Eric said he didn’t really know how to feel about it either. He expressed dislike for the extra body hair and changing of lower body bits. And I love him more than anything in the world, but I also just want to feel comfortable.

I can’t argue with him right now, because I really don’t know what I EXACTLY want with myself either. I can’t fight to start T and express how happy it’ll make me because I just don’t know. I feel like the only thing I do know right now is that I want my boobs out of here and to be seen as male. It’s just so hard because family, and I don’t even know where to begin with telling them.

I came out to my sister, I don’t know if I’ve mentioned that. She still doesn’t call me Skylar or use male pronouns. I don’t really correct her though, so it’s my fault. 

September 6th, 2020

155 - The Heist, part 3

Leave no stone unturned. Leave no rock unpivoted. Leave no pebble untwirled. Welcome to Night Vale.

My brother-in-law, Steve Carlsberg, is still in jail, wrongly accused of the recent bank heist. But I am happy to have my husband Carlos back home. The Sheriff’s Secret Police had only taken him in for some questions regarding the robbery of the Last Bank of Night Vale. Sheriff Sam had deemed Carlos a person of interest, which I’ve been saying for years, but Sheriff Sam meant it differently.

Carlos said while he was being questioned at the police station, he saw the other bank employees who were there the day of the robbery. Genevieve Daly, the new bank teller, was being asked if she saw anyone other than Steve Carlsberg near the vault that day. Carlos said she was stone faced, unhappy with the interrogation. Susan Willman was there, crying, as the police asked her who else, other than Steve Carlsberg, could have a key. And security guard Jesse McNeil was there looking quite ill, almost seasick, according to Carlos, as the police tried to badger him into implicating Steve Carlsberg.

Carlos has been home for a couple of weeks and in a terrible funk. He said Steve has a nearly impossible case. The police are convinced of Steve’s guilt and all their evidence points directly to him. Carlos hardly has any energy or emotion to work, or even leave the house. I feel awful for Steve too, and we are doing our best to support him and our family.

I tried cheering Carlos up by telling him my favorite science jokes, like two chemists walk into a bar and one tells the bartender, “I’ll have an H2O” and the other says “I’ll have an H20 too,” and the bartender says and sighs.. [fed up] “It’s been a long day guys,” and then the two chemists nod and say, [embarrassed] “Yeah oh god yeah sorry, just a couple of waters thanks.” And then later they make sure to tip very well. But Carlos didn’t even crack as mile, let alone laugh, and I asked him how his doorless fridge experiment was going and he’s welcome to work on it here, in his home laboratory. I don’t even mind if he keeps staining everything green with that weird gel he’s been using. “I ran out of gel, Cecil,” he said, prone on the couch not opening his eyes. “I couldn’t work on that, even if I wanted to. which I don’t.” Hm. I wanna curl up on the couch too, stay home from work. But I know that would be terrible for Carlos. There are many times I’ve felt flat or depressed, and Carlos has been there for me, keeping me company, taking in my sadness and reflecting back not a false smile but attentive eyes, a listening posture that makes me feel heard and understood, and that’s what I want to be for him. Besides, I think Steve can beat these charges. Steve may have been the only one with a key to the vault, but they cannot prove he opened the vault, as he was locked inside his own office during the robbery. And besides, Steve keeps very detailed accounting so they wouldn’t be able to find the stolen money, not even if he had taken it. Steve Carlsberg is… [moved] the nicest man in Night Vale. He’s a good boss, breaking his foot to get free to try to protect his employees. He’s a fine father. A loving husband. And a perfect brother-in-law. It’s just not... it’s not possible. You know, if someone on the inside did this, it was probably Susan. Susan Willman is the least trustworthy person in that bank, if not in this whole town. So if you’re going to…

[loud scary noises] Station Management just slit a memo under my door gently, reminding me about libel laws. The memo is written in fire on a sleep tablet, and there’s a snake curled around it so, uhh.. I’m going to leave my Susan WIllman theory alone. But. Let’s just say that there was an untrustworthy person in that bank, and that her name was Su..anne Wilt..son. Yes, Sue-Anne Wilson, yes and this hypothetical jerk was always complaining at PTA meetings about her own personal problems, rather than focusing on the agenda, let’s just say. And this Sue-Anne Wilson once accused Steve Carlsberg of censoring her, when Steve was just trying to finish the meeting in a timely manner so that the basketball team could se the gym for evening practice. This person might well hold a grudge against Steve Carlsberg and want to not only steal from him, but frame him for the crime. 

Or, what if the Sheriff’s Secret Police… [loud scary noises] was doing a really great job, so great that they didn’t have a lot of arrests to make because the town was so safe. And of course, [chuckling nervously] they would never need to frame someone for robbery! So they would look like they were solving one of the major crimes in recent memory. Or maybe it was space slugs. Some distant aliens from across the galaxy somehow found our solar system and spotted our Earth, and then randomly chose Night Vale, and for whatever reason, they really wanted our money, so they went down inside the bank vault while the building was on fire, and without the safe key they entered the locked room because these space slugs can crawl through walls, and then they stole all the money. I don’t know! I feel helpless.[loud scary noises fade out]

Reading the news and getting angrier and angrier, but you know there’s little I can do about terrible things that keep happening. I’m sure you can’t relate. Maybe a community calendar will cheer me up.

This Saturday, the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex opens its annual Haunted Halloween Hayride. There was complications this year, because Ghost Union Local 31 went on strike for an increase in pensions and maternity leave. Teddy Williams, owner of the Desert Flower, argued that ghosts cannot retire nor get pregnant, but the union countered with vaguely human faces muttering in the shadows while Teddy screamed, and eventually, a deal was truck.

Sunday morning is the pie eating contest at the Night Vale fair. Contestants will be competing for a top prize of a 1991 Buick Le Sabre, autographed by former US presidential hopeful and Illinois governor, Adelai Stevenson.

Tuesday afternoon is a tedious song. Wednesday night is the high school dance team’s statewide semifinals at the rec center. Our own Night Vale High School is competing that night. Their top rival is Red Mesa High School, who will be performing a jazz routine called Tommy Tunes Broadway: an upbeat medley of classic show tunes. Night Vale’s dance team will present (--) [0:09:21] postmodern masterpiece (-): contemplative blend of sculpture opera and dance defined by its explosive physical bursts, chanting, and (contra-) movements born of a 22-member ensemble, who express the human body as a multidimensional art installation. Good luck to all dancers!

And finally, Thursday is sick, so Friday will be covering Thursday’s shift. Eh, except for the part about the haunted hay ride. That did not cheer me up.

I’m getting word that the Secret Police have made a breakthrough in their bank heist investigation. Or maybe they found the real thief and can let Steve Carlsberg go? [clears throat] Sheriff Sam said the lab reports came back, the fingerprints were inconclusive as their top suspect Steve Carlsberg worked at the bank, so his fingerprints were everywhere. But the lab reports did detail a strange goo police found on the vault walls. This goo, a light green gel, was also found on the walls of the cells that the other robbers had escaped from two weeks ago. So maybe my theory about space slugs is correct. No wait. The lab reports showed that this unusual chemical can render certain metals intangible, allowing people to reach through walls without breaking them. [stutters] Police believe whoever used this greenish goo used it to rob the bank’s vault and to free the prisoners inside the abandoned mineshaft outside of town. The Sheriff then said they discovered this exact same chemical on Steve Carlsberg’s property. They discovered it inside the shed behind the house, and that this is the final piece of evidence that links Steve Carlsberg to the robbery of the Last Bank of Night Vale. They believe that, oh no… Um, that Steve did not act alone, that he had an accomplice, a scientific mastermind who created this chemical for him. Who generated a complex concoction that enabled them to walk through walls stealing whatever they wanted. They have a warrant out now for Carlos’ arrest. I’ve gotta call Carlos. I- Oh, it looks like he left a voicemail.  

[beep] Carlos: Hey sweetie, it’s um me. So listen, I have um, I so-so I’ve just been arrested. No biggie, no biggie, I’m fine. This is actually good news, because I wanted to talk to the Sheriff anyway about all this, so that-that’s great. And um, I do have some new thoughts about what happened at the bank, and they’re really interesting, so they’re driving me downtown to meet with uh ooh, ouch, those cuffs are a bit tight there, officer… officer (Q. Fortier). Ah, that is a beautiful name. I-i-is that Franchian? If you don’t mind, Officer Fortier, I’m going to just finish my voicemail to my husband. So Cecil. When I get downtown, I’ll explain everything to them, Steve and I clearly did not do this and that’s what I’ll tell them, they’re police! [chuckles] You know, they just wanna know the truth, and uh ooh uh, oh Officer Fortier, I am not done with my call yet. Uh sir, what-what are you doing with my pho- [beep]

Cecil: I… I… Let’s go to the weather.

[Good Luck with That” by Fathom All the Animals https://fathomalltheanimals.com]

Cecil: Listeners, we now go live to Steve Carlsberg’s press conference at City Hall.

Steve: This has been a difficult month for me, and for my family. I thank you all for hearing me out today. I’m glad to know that these criminal charges are behind me, and I think Sheriff Sam and their secret police, as well as their Overt Police, for listening to reason and overturning the charges against me. [sadly] But of course, I’m sad to learn about their most recent arrest. Breaks my heart to know that such a dear friend of so many years, someone who’s been in home many, many times, someone I consider family, could betray me, my bank, my town in this way. I don’t even know how to talk about such a breach of trust by someone so close. [crying] Carlos! Oh Carlos. Thank you Carlos, for your brilliant and thorough evidence that put Jesse McNeil in jail today. Our security guard of nearly 50 years committed a heinous crime, and he nearly sent the two of us to prison for it.

When Carlos arrived in my cell this morning, he was all smile saying he had figured it out. He called the Sheriff over and said, “Check Jesse’s skin for the same chemical they found on the doors.” Carlos had been experimenting on the gel that allowed him to reach his hands into refrigerators without opening the door, and thus lowering the temperature of the food inside. He’d developed this chemical. He’d developed this chemical in his temporary lab in a shed behind our house. The problem with the chemical wasn’t its effectiveness and intangibility. He had been able to make that work. No, the problem with the chemical is that it stained everything it touched a dull green, including skin. Carlos showed me his own hands, which were green from the fingertips to about halfway up his forearms. He said the last few times he had seen Jesse, Jesse looked ill. Not like a flu or cold, more like seasick: queasy, green in the face. Carlos didn’t put it together right away, because we all felt sick about not only the robbery, but the false charges against me.

The police report also showed that none of the cash tills on the teller wall were affected by the fire that broke out during the robbery last month. Which means the fire had to have started on the opposite wall, which is by the front door, Jesse’s usual station. The smoke from the fire and the three robbers waving guns provided a distraction for Jesse to cover himself with Carlos’ intangibility gel, sneak downstairs past my office, where he had locked me in earlier than day, and then unload the cash from the safe and carry it into the alleyway behind the bank where his car was parked. When the fire trucks arrived, Jesse ran deliberately in front of their hoses so that the gel would all be removed from his body before the police began questioning those of us who had been inside during the robbery. But, as Carlos pointed out, the gel stains the skin for a long time, water alone won’t remove it.

Sheriff Sam brought Jesse back in for questioning based on Carlos’ statements, and found Jesse’s skin was the same dull green as Carlos’ hands. But unlike Carlos, the green stain covered Jesse’s whole body, not only his hands, indicating he had used it to walk through walls, rather than merely reach to a door.

Carlos explained that he had Jesse in his lab many times, Jesse and all my employees come to my house regularly for dinners. Like I said, they’re family to me. Jesse had taken an interest in Carlos’ science projects, so Carlos showed Jesse his doorless fridge experiment. Not long after that, Carlos noticed that the rest of his intangibility gel was gone. He thought he had just run out, even though he had made plenty of it. Never occurred to Carlos, until he saw Jesse’s green face a few days ago, that Jesse had stolen it to remove the money from the vault and his criminal colleagues from their jail cell. While I was the only person with the key to the vault, Jesse as a security guard was the only person with master keys for the rest of the building. My office door is never locked, so I don’t carry a key for it. Jesse knew this and locked me into my own office. Then his three collaborators Richard, William, and Emma created a fake robbery of the cash tills to distract from his heist of the vault. Sheriff Sam was impressed with Carlos’ explanation and arrested Jesse McNeil on the spot. Jesse turned to Carlos and Sam and said: [very deep voice] “I guess I’m going to jail now.” Sam said: [Sheriff Sam voice] “Don’t flatter yourself!”

Anyway, I finally get to return home, thanks to my brother-in-law Carlos. Thank you Susan Willman for managing the bank in my absence. Abby, Janice, I’ll be home in a few. Can’t wait to see you both again. Oh, oh, maybe I’ll bake some scones tonight! Carlos showed me a way to do it without letting the butter too warm. Oh-oh yeah!

Cecil: I’m so relieved and so glad they put the right person behind bars. And I have never been so excited to try one of Steve’s scones. That really is neat.

Stay tuned next for someone playing on a saw. No, ahem, (-) that, with a saw. It’s just someone playing around with a saw. Enjoy.

Good night, Night Vale, Good night.

Today’s proverb: Wisdom ages like fine wine. Knowledge ages like Boston lettuce.

For most of us, life as we know it took a turn on that sunday afternoon of March 15. In my case, that meant the two pending cats I had on Wednesday were cancelled. To be honest, for a minute, I was quite excited. For me it meant no more late nights trying to understand the classification of wetland hydrology. That was something. It's all fun and games until someone is hooked up to a ventilator...if you're lucky enough to get admitted to a hospital.

It's now been almost two weeks since.Unfortunatly,for most Kenyans it's still business as usual. I'm finally beginning to understand the term African timers. What do you get when you impose a curfew to a people who use the term ALUTA ( Portuguese for struggle)to describe their night life? I'll tell you what..you get what we witnessed last friyay. Sad really.

Anyway, being the law abiding citizen that I am☺, mother, daughter and sister, I've been self quarantined at home, with the people I love. I have to admit though, it's not been easy peasy lemon squeezy. I am a sucker for routine. Being home under the circumstances, I had to come up with a new routine or die of boredom elsewise. I've decided to share everything I'm learning during self quarantine.

So, the disease is COVID-19 short for Corona Virus Disease caused by Corona Virus 2 ( SARs- COV-2). It was discovered in 2019 in Wuhan, China.The period between contracting the virus and when the symptoms begin to show is called incubation period. For COVID-19, it's 1-14 days. It spreads through movement of people with no or mild symptoms, unaware they have the disease. It's symptoms include fever, cough, shortness of breath, breathing difficulties among others. It attacks the lungs could potentially lead to death with a mortality rate of 3.4%. That's 3 deaths in every 100 people. This is why social distancing is critical in stopping the spread of this disease. If you limit your social contact, you cut off a link in the chain of infection. Statistics show that 25% of Corona virus transmission occur in pre-symptomatic stages.

Staying at home could help save someone's life especially the vulnerable population, the elderly. Avoid gatherings, bars, stages, and handling paper money. Ask yourself, do I really need to....? If the answer is no, stay at home. Before leaving that house, take a good look at your kid, your partner, your brother, your mother and keep in mind that that may be the day you bring home the virus. Would you live with yourself? No? Good, STAY AT HOME!! Unless it's an emergency. A date is not an emergency people! The gym is not an emergency! You'll have all the time in the world to get married and have parties once all this is over. You literally only live once, I don't know about you but I want to graduate. Raise my son. See my mum cry on my graduation day and hold my dad's hand as he walks me down the isle, someday. STAY AT HOME.

In the event you do go out, wash your hands with running water and soap constantly for at least 20 seconds or use a sanitizer. Cover your cough or sneeze with a tissue and dispose it properly. Clean and disinfect frequently touched objects. Do not touch your face but most importantly, unless it's unavoidable, stay at home.

While we wait for all these to end, keep yourself busy. I love reading. I actually realized I do some time late last year. Since then read technically anything I get my hands on. Problem is I read up to four books simultaneously, and with school going on, I had several books to finish. I'm happy to say I'm almost done now. My point is when you do what you love, you'll hardly ever get bored. Figure out what it is and do that.

Perfect your art. We all have that thing we feel we can get really good at. You know you're good at it, but you always feel like you could be better. We'll, this is the perfect opportunity. Practice makes perfect. And you have all the time in the world being at home and all. Why don't you start painting again? Continue writing that story, learn that choreography. Prepare yourself, because the world is not ready for you. Literally

Finally, trust in the Lord with all your heart and do not rely on your own understanding. In every thing that you do, commit your plans to the Lord and they shall be established. Those who trust in the lord will never be disappointed. I know it's scary, it's crazy, but we who believe in God have something no one else in the world has, we are saved by God's grace through our faith. Be still and know that he is God😊

A Note on the ‘F’ Word - Freedom is Shooting Hoops up John Pears Playing Fields..

Good morning dear readers....well it’s a drizzly Wednesday morning here in deepest green Sussex. The birds are chirping; the lawn is drinking in all the rain from last night. There’s the very occasional mild whoosh of a car driving down the lane our cottage sits on. You’d never know the world had been frozen for four months and was just starting to spin again....that freedom was in the air... 

I don’t know about you, but this bit feels really hard. It’s like, for so long I’ve been yearning for pubs and cafes to thrust their doors open...and now it’s allowed; but not really. Going to a pub sounds about as much fun as visiting a friend in the slammer - 

It was kind of easier in the good old days; those early insane lockdown weeks when we all knew that we were completely trapped, incarcerated within our ow homes with one stroll allowed; there was a certain liberation in knowing that we had to stay in and make the best of it - when the best we could hope for was a wave with a truck-driver or road-worker from afar, or that smile from a complete stranger walking their dog down the lane that I sometimes got....the smile that said ‘this is crazy, right - but it’s ok. I can still walk my dog. We can still smile at each other.’ (I did that a lot...its gets lonely out here in the sticks...!). 

There was a certain Halcyon bliss to those April days with Boo spent watching Fawlty Towers and howling in laughter all morning; and then doing real weird stuff like acting out a play together with costume changes and everything...I mean, it was nuts, and it was scary, but boy we were imaginative. Boo had me drinking Brandy as a stressed out Queen, then quick costume change to become a humble male servant... She had me acting out that frickin’ play four times some days...but somehow by having to dive inside coz there was no-where else to go it felt like the sky was the limit. There was a certain liberation to seeing my neighbour Pete across the fence and knowing deep down in the kernel of my heart that I wanted to hug him, because I wasn’t allowed to; a certain glowing awakening in feeling my love for Pete - all the hotter for the restriction 

Didn’t we dream of the world opening up again, of noisy pub gardens; festivals; reclining with large groups of homo sapiens on picnic rugs. Didn’t we dream hugging our friends...Didn’t we dream of the end of fear?

 And now the borders are opening again...so why do I feel like a toddler who’s been told she can run like the wind only to feel the reigns tugging and pulling me down.. 

It really is a W.O.P.E. (whole other post entirely) as to why the Powers have given the go ahead to pubs, cinemas and churches but not to theatres and other arts spaces. It’s too depressing and hypocritical to write about right now and it’s raining besides.. Maybe the rain will just keep on coming and England will sink; just have a nice long bath, a good long think, drown all the Parliamentary dandruff and come again with a beating heart in Westminster. But in the meantime...

I’m gonna tell you the story of my Sunday afternoon in the local park and why, perhaps, Freedom Is Shooting Hoops up John Pears Playing Fields with a Kick-Ass  Extended Indonesian Family Basketball Team.

So I meet David and Boo up John Pears - its basically a large field, a kids play ground and a small basketball court with two hoops just up the road. I’ve been shooting hoops lately; a re-call to my sporty youth when, as a skinny twelve year old, just budding breasts and entirely un-cool, I tried to rectify the situation by  playing for my local basketball team back in the Bedfordshire suburbs. Apparently I wasn’t too bad; I could be quite aggressive, charging down the court and leaping the lay-ups. 

So anyway, I’ve been hooking up with David and Boo with my basketball. And what do you know, I’ve still got it. I can still get it in the net BAM! I’m twelve again, and it feels good. 

However, this Sunday, we have competition. The court is FULL; and these cats look serious. By some strange and wonderful miracle, this particular basketball court in a rural playing field in southern England, has been filled with between 10 and 15 very accomplished Indonesian basket-ball players. This is a thing of wonder; from whence did these visitors come, with their urgent tongue, joyful laughter, luminescent orange trainers and, frankly, some seriously good hoop skills? They range in ages - young men to an elder  ‘grandfather’ figure - and three boy kids runn with no tops on and lopping the ball to the puffy white clouds above. They’d set up camp next the court - women sit on camping chairs tapping their phones; there are babies; music; at some point pizza arrives.. 

Boo sulked that the court had been taken over, but we were all transfixed by this wonderful happening before us; this serious playfulness. How a large extended Indonesian group of family and friends - over 20 in total - came to this white out-post of England on a sunny Sunday afternoon for basket-ball battle, is a glorious mystery. 

But it signalled a wonderful freedom to us...this beautiful over-riding of the ‘State rules’; of taking a Sunday afternoon for one’s own, to be spent with loved ones in play and rambunctious competition; melting away any rigid boundaries of age or court lines or government stipulation with dizzying speed. Its ironic and comical and also vastly insane that the children’s playground right next to the court has a huge padlock on its gate. 

At one point a distinguished looking white-haired lady approached with her dog; ball catcher in hand. My cynical head predicted war: she was gonna call the cops; or at least have a word with these imposters... But standing near the court, instead a steady smile spread across her face, and she stood awhile, taking in all the joy and laughing along with the players when the ball fell short of the hoop...sharing their happy disappointment. This was a blessing; a lesson that we all needed and she soaked it up in abundance. Perhaps her younger self would have jumped on the court and taught the guys a thing or too. 

In the end Boo plucked up courage to ask if we could share the court - and so we did. Two nations; two tongues; two races; two families - our small, trembling triangle of three, alongside a much larger model, but nonetheless just shooting hoops on a Sunday in full respect of each other. Though with our considerably deficient hoop skills their respect was all the more generous.  No-one was being hurt; no-one endangered; no-one threatened with slow death; we gave each other appropriate space without any need for rude-ness or stand-off. We clapped at each other’s successes and commiserated the failures. 

This, surely, could be the Summer ahead of us. 

It struck me that maybe this is a bit was this weird post Lock-down transition wobbly faze has to look like. We need to take things outdoors; taking full possession of our freedoms; safely; kindly, in our own way, playing and hooping.... We need to set up our own games; our own pleasures; under blue skies; sharing these paces with loved ones and setting an example of...well, how to have a good time.. Coz it sure beats going to the pub right now. 

Have a wonderful Wednesday - love from Christine x      

I know you just poste but... PLEASE MORE!!! (whenever you can, this not ment for pressuring you, this is to let you know i love simple and can't stop reading it)

💗

Simple

Chapter 8

Other Chapters: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven

M | 3.3k wds | pre-XF AU | MSR, Melissa/Samantha

A/N: There’s some uncustomary angst here, but nothing too heavy. The good news is, it feels like the story has an actual emotional arc now. 😂

_+_

Wednesday - Stanford

He didn’t call her on Monday, after her terrible day, or on Tuesday, when she really hoped he would. On Wednesday morning before her flight, she tried his apartment, but got only his machine. She left him a message.

“Hi, it’s me. I guess you’re not back yet from your case. My flight gets in in at 7:30 tonight, and they’re putting me up in a hotel downtown, the, um… Hotel Harrington. I guess it’s just around the corner from the Hoover building. Anyway, I hope the case is going well, and, ah… I’ll talk to you soon.”

She hung up and tried not to be disappointed. She reminded herself that he was busy, that he was saving people’s lives, that he could even be in a dangerous situation for all she knew. Dana would not be the jealous type: not of his job and not of his partner. She would do some reading on the plane and she would wear her good suit tomorrow, and she would make a strong impression at the FBI, even if Fox couldn’t be there. So she ignored the mild ache in her heart, the sense that everything was somehow turning sour. She wasn’t even sure why she worried. Because she couldn’t reach him? Because recruitment by the FBI seemed too good to be true? She didn’t believe in signs and omens. She wasn’t Melissa.

Dana double checked her light switches and plugs and gave her single, sickly plant a final splash of water. Suitcase in hand, Dana locked up and went down to meet her cab.

—

Friday - Baltimore

Melissa Scully returned home later than she’d wanted. There had been a difficult case involving a drug-addicted mother and disputed custody: a grandmother trying to keep two sweet-faced children fed and looked-after. As she hung her coat and scarf, pushing down the static of her hair and stepping out of her shoes, she noticed something different in the feel of the house. Its air seemed thicker, and not just with the warm smell of dinner. Then, voices from the kitchen: a visitor.

“Sam?”

The voices quieted and Sam called out, “I’m here.”

There were two familiar bags beside the stairs, but she was still surprised to see Dana perched on a stool, slump-shouldered and tired-eyed. “Hi Missy,” she said.

Melissa felt her mouth drop open. “Dana? Oh my god, are you okay? What are you doing here?”

Dana tried to smile, but her lips trembled, and Missy quickly enveloped her sister in a hug. Dana melted bonelessly into the embrace and breathed in deep. So much fear, she sensed. And an angry wad of shame, balling itself up inside of her. Something must have happened.

Over Dana’s head, Melissa looked to Samantha. What is it? she mouthed, but Sam just made a face that said, I don’t know.

“Day,” she said again. “What’s up?”

Dana shook her head, red hair turning to fuzz against Melissa’s shoulder, words muffled into her sweater. “I took the train from DC. It was stupid. I shouldn’t have changed the ticket, but I thought he’d be there.”

“Who, Fox?”

A nod.

Missy looked again to Samantha, who shrugged and then waved her hands at the sisters, shooing them out of the kitchen to talk in private. Melissa tugged on her sister’s arm. “Come on,” she said. “Couch.”

Dana refused to cry while the whole story came out: Daniel (a name she hadn’t known before this) first spying on them during Fox’s surprise visit, and then confronting her with threats and accusations; her recruitment by the FBI; her fear about their father’s reaction; and finally Fox, promising to be here, or at least to call, but then leaving on a case and not returning her messages for days.

“I know it’s not his fault,” she said. “I shouldn’t have changed the ticket without talking to him, but I would have hated to not change it and have wasted the opportunity for time together.”

“You mean your plane ticket?”

“Yeah,” Dana said. “I’m flying back Sunday.” She looked up at Melissa, eyes wide and blue and sorry. “Can I stay here until then? I don’t want to have to explain to mom and dad.”

Melissa sighed and drooped an arm around her little sister. “Of course,” she said. “But you know you’ll have to tell them soon, right? I mean, did the recruitment go well?”

Dana nodded. “It did. It’s actually really exciting. Scary, but in a good way.”

A little squeeze around the shoulders. “Then let’s be excited. Let’s have a beer and some dinner and I’ll read your cards and then we can watch sad movies, hmm? A cry always helps. You can sleep ’til noon tomorrow.”

Dana laughed and nodded and they went back to the kitchen where Sam was hanging up the phone, a little too quickly.

“Who was that?” Melissa asked, eyes narrowed with a skepticism all the Scullys could do.

“No one,” she said, again too quickly, and began handing them plates piled with vegetables and rice and tofu.

—

Saturday - Alexandria

It was a short flight, but it had been a long week, when Fox Mulder finally unlocked the door to his apartment and dropped his bags on the floor at just after nine in the morning. He’d returned with more questions than answers, and a dead suspect, but the case was by all outward appearances (and filed paperwork), closed. Most of the answers he wanted would require military information, but all inquiries in that direction had been shut down right quick. Fox wiped a hand over his face and went to start a pot of coffee: the dinky cup on the plane had done little to relieve his week-long headache. Good work it may have been, but the non-answers at the end of walking in circles didn’t leave him with much sense of closure. The worst was that Diana had set up long hours of stake-outs throughout the first half of the week, and by the time he’d gotten to a phone with his calling card, he got no answer at Dana’s apartment. He’d missed her before she left, and he didn’t know where she was staying to call her once she got here.

While the coffee pot dripped, he went to his answering machine where the number 6 was flashing at him in anxiety-inducing red. First was a call from his landlord, reminding him about some work on the smoke detectors. Then one from Dana, letting him know about her flight and her hotel—he grabbed a pen and paper to take down the name, but then realized it was Saturday and that he’d probably already missed her. “Shit,” he said. Then her voice came back in a second message from early yesterday morning:

“Hi again. I’m sorry to bug you. Just an update: I’m touring Quantico and the labs this morning and then I was supposed to have an afternoon flight home, but…” There was a brief pause, and her voice was a bit cooler when it returned. “I’ll be checked out of the hotel in a few minutes. I’m sorry I missed you.” And then a quick click and the message was over. But what? He thought. “Goddamnit,” he murmured. He had fucked this one up good. She’d been here, just minutes away from where he now stood, and then at the same airport he’d flown into less than an hour ago. But they’d missed each other like ships in the night.

Two more messages played, first a hang-up, and then an automated call offering new long-distance pricing. He took a deep breath and started to do the math on when he could reasonably make a call to California, when his sister’s voice emerged from the machine in its final message:

“Fox, you dope. Your girl is here and she looks pretty fucking sad. What did you do? She flies home late Sunday morning. Don’t be an idiot,” and then the click of the receiver as Sam hung up in a hurry.

A smile spread out over his face as his heartbeat caught up to his mind’s realization. He hadn’t missed her. She’d just gone to Baltimore (and not told him). He could be there before noon. Fox barely waited for the machine to stop dripping before he sloshed some coffee into a travel mug, grabbed his keys, and ignored his still-packed bags on his way out the door. He thought maybe he could still salvage this mess of a week.

—

Saturday traffic in February wasn’t bad, but he may have committed a few minor misdemeanors on his way. He pulled up in front of his sister’s house at 11:48, swallowing the last of his now-lukewarm coffee. He thought for a moment, popped a mint into his mouth, then hurried for the front door. He was going to scoop Dana up, take her back to his place (six hours of travel today be damned) and make love to her until they both fell asleep from exhaustion. When they woke, he would feed her (preferably by hand, preferably naked) and listen to every single minute of her life over the past week.

“Oh hey,” Samantha said as she opened the door, looking smug. “Got my message?”

“I did,” he said. “Is she here?”

Sam stepped back to let him enter. “Mmhmm. Couch.” He was already walking toward the living room, but Samantha caught his arm before he could plow past her. Her eyes were brown and serious. “She’s had a week, Fox. Be gentle, okay?”

He frowned at that, a little confused. “Okay,” he said, wondering if the recruitment hadn’t gone well, if some jackass had said something to her. God knew there were enough sexist pricks at the FBI.

In the living room, Dana was curled around a throw pillow on the couch, eyes glued to the TV, freckled and beautiful and still in pajamas. Fox stood awkwardly a moment in the doorway before she caught sight of him and her eyes went wide.

“Oh my gosh,” she said, pushing herself up to sit.

He smiled, letting the warmth of her proximity wash over him. “Hey you.”

“You came back. I thought… How’d you know I was here?”

He pulled off his coat and tossed it over the back of a chair. “Sam left me a message. Mind if I sit?”

She shook her head and shifted to make room. He lowered himself beside her and hooked his index finger over her pinky, gave it a little tug. Something seemed off, he noticed. She seemed… hesitant, a little less excited than he’d hoped. He thought of Sam’s warning: be gentle.

“I’m sorry,” he said after a moment of her fiddling with his fingers with her left hand: rubbing them, staring down as if she were nervous.

“For what?”

He tugged again at her hand, trying to get her to look at him. “For missing your calls.”

Dana shrugged and moved her eyes to the coffee table, to the remains of her breakfast cereal and a worn paperback. “You were working, it’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have… anyway, it doesn’t matter. How was your case?”

“Frustrating. Too long. Hey.” With that, she finally looked at him, and he could swear she looked afraid. Fox raised his hand to her cheek and was relieved when she leaned into it. “Tell me about you.” He leaned in and touched his nose to hers. She smiled, just a little twitch of her lips, and it warmed his hopes. He braved a kiss, and she responded with a gentle pressure of her own lips. There she was. “Hello,” he said with another little kiss. “I missed you,” he murmured, and he let his fingers toy at the hem of her top. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

“Hi,” she said. “I missed you, too. And it’s okay.”

“Were you sufficiently wooed by the FBI?”

Dana smiled again. “I think so. I toured the Hoover Building first. Very impressive. Many important men in suits.”

“Hmm, yes.”

“And then the labs at Quantico.”

“And?”

“Amazing.”

“They let you slice up any dead bodies?”

Dana sighed, in mock regret. “Unfortunately no. I brought my own scalpel and everything, but I guess they want me to go through training first.”

Fox laughed and tugged her into his arms. She fell heavily against his chest with an “oomph” and a little laugh. He squeezed her tight, relieved at the warmth of her, here and solid and his. “And you will, you think? Go through training?”

She leaned her head back to look at him, and though she smiled, there was some distant and foggy look in her eyes. “Yeah,” she said.

—

The sight of him in the doorway should have overwhelmed her with joy, as it had three weeks ago when she’d found him waiting for her. But it was as if the earth had undergone a tectonic shift, or a tilt in its axis, that changed their orientations toward one another. Or hers toward him. She wasn’t sure. The feel of his palm on her cheek still set beating the small wings of her heart, but it was with anxiety now, as well as excitement. His lips on hers still felt exactly, perfectly right. And yet, she was afraid. Seeing FBI Headquarters, imagining herself there, stiff-backed and strong under the daily onslaught of authoritative men and their rigid expectations, was a thing difficult enough. Imagining him there, too, as one of those wielders of authority,  who could sway the opinion of those who judged her… He could touch her in a hallway out of only affection and accidentally ruin her.

(Are you fucking him to get a place there?)

Daniel’s voice was a poison in her memory that she tried to shove away. But her recruitment by the FBI changed them, she realized. It gave Fox a kind of power over her she hadn’t considered at first, even if he would never use it. She would be, once again, sleeping with a colleague, and that recent burn still stung. Now, as she rested her head against his chest and felt his arms around her back, she wondered once again if she’d been too hasty with her affection. Take a step back, Dana. Armor yourself.

They both said goodbye to Melissa and Sam. She thanked them for the cozy room and dinner, and let Fox bring her back to his apartment. She was quiet on the ride, listening to him unravel the details of his case. She tried her best to offer words that didn’t want to come.

When they pulled up at his apartment building, Dana felt the tingle of nerves again, all the way into her fingers. She tried to carry her own bags, but he waved her away from the trunk. She bit her lip, surprised by her own irritation. This small gesture, meant with affection, now felt weighted down with assumptions and misguided chivalry. Inside, he juggled the bags and his keys to unlock the door. His apartment was much larger than hers, but a bit dim, even with the lights on. Well-decorated, though. Her lips twitched up at the sight of his fish tank. Fox nearly tripped over his own bags on the way in, then carried them all, waddling awkwardly, into his bedroom. When he came back, he stopped and stood before her, watching her watch him there in his foyer, still in her coat.

“I won’t bite,” he said after a moment, a little sheepish. “Mi casa, and all of that.”

She tried to smile, and tugged off her coat, hung it on the coat rack.

“Dana,” he said while she fiddled with the pockets and straightened the fabric. Slowly, she turned, and the worry on his face hurt her heart. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “I’m okay.”

“You’re not okay. Sam said you had a week. Will you tell me?”

Dana closed her eyes and breathed. Telling him would mean explaining the situation with Daniel, the whole situation. And what would he think of her then? Fox stepped closer, and his fingers brushed her elbow.

No, she thought. She wouldn’t break in front of him. She wouldn’t cry and tell him about her mean ex and beg his comfort and let herself be held, she who had stupidly thought he might rush back to see her. He couldn’t want this much complication, not so soon, and she suddenly couldn’t imagine letting herself seem so weak in front of him. So she swallowed and put what she hoped was a smile on her face. “Work stuff was stressful, that’s all. Because I had to take the three days off.” She tucked hair behind her ear and tried that smile again, but she could see that he didn’t quite buy it. It wasn’t a lie, she thought, not exactly—the trip had set off some trouble… which had unfolded at work. “And I’m not great at flying,” she added. “Cross-country trips stress me out a bit.”

Fox nodded, lower lip tucked between his teeth. “Okay,” he said, and ushered her into his living room with his hand on her back. His fish tank burbled and his couch was green. She sat down on it and looked out over his desk through the window. “Should I order us some lunch? I don’t have much here.”

“Okay,” she said, not looking back from the window. “That sounds good.”

So they ate in unfamiliar awkwardness, their noodles and egg-drop soup and chicken, and Dana felt she had maybe ruined everything. Here was this man who seemed to genuinely like who she was, not who she might be or who he wanted her to be, and she would either ruin it all with her neediness or push him away with her coldness. Dana swallowed a lump of baby corn that felt like a brick in her esophagus, knowing suddenly that she had done wrong. She had loved too much too soon at a time when she was too unsettled. Now, she was sure, they would suffer for it.

They spent the afternoon watching TV, and she clung to him wide-eyed, face against the warm cotton of his shirt, while he kissed her head and she convinced herself this might be the last time they shared this kind of quiet comfort. He hummed pleasantly against her scalp while she fought back tears he never saw. They took a walk to a small park down the street, and she twined her fingers around his like they were a lifeline, like they could save her from ruining this.

Shouts echoed on the playground until clouds purpled the sky. Children on skateboards and bikes wheeled home to their dinners, and soon she and Fox turned back, too. When it grew late, they swallowed leftovers and she curled into his bed in the dark. His fingers found her. His words poured into her ear: Dana, you feel so good, while skimmed his heavy palms over her body and she pressed her flesh to his. He slipped her panties down, and god she wanted him to, more than anything. She was glad of the dark that hid the depth of her love and sadness: the crease in her forehead, the wobble of her lips. She moaned into his clavicle, arched against his fingers, spread her legs and accepted him inside of her, all while thinking she could not keep him.

At the airport, she managed not to cry, and if he mistook the shine of her eyes for the sadness of temporary partings, she did not correct him. Again, she wanted to tell him she loved him, but hadn’t the courage. He palmed her cheek and kissed her lips in that way he had, like he was holding a secret. “Call me when you get in,” he whispered. And though she nodded (feeling ripped open, feeling hollowed out, feeling like she’d stepped on something beautiful in her clumsiness and broken it), she did not.

— end chapter eight —

Go to Chapter 9

Giftless

TITLE: Giftless CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 29/50

AUTHOR: nekoamamori ORIGINAL IMAGINE: 

Imagine that you are Stark’s niece and you secretly share a strong relationship with Loki since he entered the crew. One day you get hurt so bad during a mission that you are about to die.  Loki knows a spell that will save you and share his immortality with you but you and he will be linked forever sharing thoughts, pain, emotions…

RATING: T NOTES/WARNINGS:  Also on AO3 click here

You woke to grumblings from your boyfriend. “What the Hel has happened to my hair?!?” you heard him as he stood to go look in the mirror. You laughed as you sat up to watch him from where you had slumped over on the couch to doze.

“You fell asleep in front of your girlfriend while possessing long hair,” you replied while you laughed.   Your braids had come out quite nice actually.  And Loki with braids was definitely hot.  Not that you cared much about hotness factor at the moment.  Just because you didn’t want sex, didn’t mean you couldn’t appreciate the view.

Loki looked over your work in the mirror. He was half-terrified for his precious hair and half-checking to see how you’d done with the braids.  He finally sighed and relaxed.  “Nicely done, Lady,” he finally replied with a smirk and a bow.

“You don’t mind?” you asked nervously. It had been soothing to do, so you hoped you would have the opportunity again. You didn’t want him upset over you messing up his precious hair, though.

“Not at all. I was simply surprised,” he reassured you.  He had a soft, fond smile on his face when he continued.  “We often wear our hair braided for events such as feasts and battles. The style you chose was different, but it is definitely not something I mind,” he added. You had made very simple braids, but maybe he’d teach you to braid his hair properly at some point. It had also taken you longer than you’d like since you kept having to restart so it would be perfect.

“Good. It was fun,” you told him with a grin. 

He smiled back at you. “Then I mind even less,” he told you warmly before you stood and went to hug him, wrapping your arms around his slim waist.

You didn’t bother changing to go to breakfast. It was a Sunday morning. Most of the supers slept in anyway, and they were all family. Plus, you were wearing Loki’s clothes, which were too big on you  anyway. Loki looked put-upon when you wouldn’t let him put his hair back down, but he was laughing.  He’d only been teasing. You knew he’d blame you anyway when the others teased him for it. “I must love you,” he told you when he let you drag him downstairs with his hair still braided.

“I worked really hard on that,” you grumbled at him, giggling. He sighed, but followed along after you anyway. 

Even Helene gave him a smirk when she saw him. Loki wouldn’t be mean to the housekeeper, though, so she got away with it without being stabbed.  

You ate our breakfast in peace, but it wasn’t long before the other supers started coming down for theirs. Tony came down too and Loki got up to let Tony join you at your table.

“Hey, Kat, how are you holding up?” he asked gently. He was walking on egg shells around you, unlike Loki.  

You gave him a smile, trying to reassure him that you really were ok.  He didn’t need to know you still felt dirty. Or violated.  Or raw. “I’m doing a lot better,” you told him, and actually wasn’t lying. It was straining to hear all of the buzzing of people’s thoughts, but it wasn’t as bad since Loki had helped you  learn to deal with them, it was just an annoying background noise at the back of your mind.  You were doing a lot better, which was saying something about how poorly you had been dong. 

He looked you over, looking for the lie, and was finally relieved when he couldn’t see one. He then looked you over more closely, scrutinizing something. “What the hell are you wearing?” he asked.

Oh.  That’s what he was whining about this time.

“Pajamas,” you replied dryly. That was obvious. 

He glared, but thankfully dropped the issue.  He turned to Loki.  “Nice look, princess,” he said to Loki instead, making fun of Loki for his hair.  He and Loki still didn’t completely get along.  Though they usually weren’t completely antagonistic.

“Uncle Tony…” you warned.  They were supposed to behave. 

“Fine, I’ll leave your stupid boyfriend alone. For now,” he glared at Loki.

“Uncle Tony, enough!” you snapped at him. 

Unfortunately, Tony’s bowl of cereal decided to burst into flame at that moment.  

“Lock it down, Kat!” he snapped back at you. 

You glared at him across the table. “Leave Loki alone!” you snarled at him. You finally bit back the emotions, trying to calm yourself to ease the ache in your head.

The bowl of cereal, now reduced to a bowl of milk, was still on fire.

“Darling, he does not mean it,” Loki told you softly, gently. He was trying to calm you so the fire would go away.  “He simply dislikes me because I am courting you,”

“I know,” you told him tiredly.  You were tired of their argument.  Tired of feeling like shit.  Tired of the chaos your life had become. “That still doesn’t make it ok,” you added that part to Tony. 

He nodded.  Antagonizing you right now wasn’t the best idea and he finally seemed to realize that. “I’m sorry, Kat. I just don’t like you dating anyone,” 

You nodded, but put your head in your hands to rub your temples, trying to ease the pain.  “Are you working today?” you asked after a minute, trying to change the subject as you looked back up.

“Of course. I think that’s all I do anymore,” he grumbled

“That’s because you’re too good at your job,” you reminded him.

“Flattering imp,” he laughed at you and gave you a hug goodbye before he had to go to work.

“So what are we doing today?” Loki asked as he reclaimed his seat.

“We’re sitting on the couch and I’m studying,” you told him. He pouted.

“But that’s boring!” he whined.

“Loki, I have my AP lit exam tomorrow, bio on Tuesday, Latin on Wednesday, and history on Friday” you reminded him, trying to be patient with the bored go. “I was only supposed to take a couple hours off of studying for the party. These exams are really important.” You had explained the whole AP thing to him a couple weeks before when all talk during those classes had turned to the exams. “I promise I’ll play with you all day Saturday,” you added. Again. 

You’d had this conversation already too.

“Fine…” he sighed. He still pouted, but at least he wouldn’t fight you, not when this was so important to you. You went to sit on the couch in the common room.

“Can you get my school bag?” you asked him. You didn’t feel like walking back upstairs to get it and it wasn’t a strain for him to summon your things from upstairs. “And the big scary binder of AP lit notes?” Both items appeared next to your spot on the couch. He sat down, but still looked pouty.

Thankfully, you had prepared for a bored trickster of a boyfriend. You dug in your bag and pulled out the wrapped box you had hidden in there and handed it to him. “This should help keep you entertained while I study,” you told him brightly, taunting him into leaving you alone.

“When did you-?” He asked, shocked.  You had the feeling he was amazed you had escaped his watch long enough to make a purchase.

“While you were grounded. Nat was pissed I made her come shopping with me, but I let her drive my car, so she forgave me. I figured you were going to be a problem when exam time came around,” you stuck your tongue at him so he knew that you was joking.  Though he was going to be a problem.  His pouting and bored expression told you that clearly enough.

“Thank you,” he told you looking touched that you had thought to give him a gift. He opened the box to find a handheld video game system and an assortment of games. “I appreciate the gift, but what is it?” he asked, puzzled by the Midgardian technology. 

You laughed and showed him how to turn on the system and explained that it was a game. “This one is about a hero named Mario who has to save a princess,” you told him, opening one of the games and showing him how to put it in to the system. 

Soon, he was entranced and contentedly playing his new game. You smiled at how adorable he was and got to work prepping for your exams.

Things were quiet until the super kids decided to play Superhero Musical at the other end of the room. You managed to drone it out while you were working through a complicated sample question, until the singing began. Your head jerked up as memories of the party flooded through you. You shrieked as pain roared through your head and flames burst up around the room full of flying objects.

“Turn that off!” Loki shouted at the kids, who in a moment of brilliance, did exactly as they were told for once. Loki turned to you, wrapping you in his cool arms. “Shh, love, it’s ok. You’re safe. The party is over. You’re at home with your family,” he soothed, rubbing your back, petting your hair until you finally calmed. 

Your breathing eased and you finally forced yourself to calm. “I’m sorry,” you told him softly, embarrassed.

“It is not your fault,” he replied gently. One of the kids was a firestarter and had already taken care of the flames. Somehow nothing was ruined. Loki let you go and you looked over at the kids.

“Sorry!” you called to them. They gave you waves and laughs in reply. This compound could be kind of chaotic and it wasn’t uncommon for powers to go out of control. It was common enough that they just waved it off.

“We were due for a bit of excitement! Exam season is usually so boring!” one of them called. You relaxed at their understanding.

“But maybe we’ll pick a different movie,” another one called. That seemed like an excellent idea.

You had gotten tired of looking at English questions and asked Loki if he would get your other binders so you could study something else for awhile. He did so without complaint and went back to his game once you were resettled with your studying.

You were actually feeling good about upcoming exams when Fury came up to see you that evening. You looked up at him confused. He usually didn’t come to this wing unless something was wrong. “Uncle Tony?” you asked him, jumping to your feet. That was the only reason you could think that he’d be coming to see you: if something had happened to your uncle

“He’s fine. He’s out on patrol with the team. They just called in to say that all’s quiet,” Fury told you .  You sighed in relief. You hated it when Tony got injured out on patrol. It didn’t happen often because of his suit, but it still happened occasionally. “Tony and some of the others in the lab have been working on this for the past two days straight and we finally got the finishing touches complete,” he got to the point, handing you a thick metal…bracelet? It looked nearly identical to the one on Loki’s wrist, the one that limited his powers. “Anytime you are out of the compound while you’re learning control you are to wear it,” Fury told you firmly, leaving no room for disobedience. “It will block your powers completely, or so I’ve been promised. You will learn control, Kat, and this isn’t a punishment, but your powers are too strong and too deadly when they’re out of control. I can’t lock you up here away from the world. You need to go to school and have a life,” you nodded, but weren’t sure about this. You knew someone had told him how powerful you really were, despite Loki trying to protect you.  Fury hesitated, but continued. “I also need to protect this compound and everyone who comes here to learn control. The city can shut us down if I let untrained supers out in the world. It’s a compromise, Kat,” he insisted. 

“I understand,” you replied. You did understand, even if you didn’t like it. 

“We really should test it…” Fury said.  Though you didn’t know how to call up your powers on purpose, as you were trying to avoid using them until your mind had healed enough to attempt control, or at least not excruciating pain any time they were activated. “Also don’t tell anyone that we have these. They’ll want to round up all of the supers and bind their powers, and that’s not a good idea. Besides, they’re a fairly new invention. We only just perfected it for Loki’s,” 

“I trust your work,” you replied quickly, and you definitely wouldn’t tell anyone about the gadget. 

Fury finally agreed that it would be ok without testing and left you alone. you sat back on the couch, looking over the metal bangle on your wrist.

“Are you alright, darling?” Loki asked when he was gone. You could hear the concern in his voice.

“You’re just stuck being security for us while we’re out for awhile. Besides my daggers, of course,” you gave him a tentative smile, hoping this would work at least well enough for you to make it through exams. You hadn’t known Tony could make these kind of gadgets. You thought he had been able to block Loki’s magic because it was magic not powers. Tony was a genius, though, so apparently he was capable of anything. Besides, people weren’t supposed to know about them, so of course you hadn’t been told before.

You went back to your lit notes and Loki got back to his game. It was about 10pm when your books and bag disappeared. You glanced up at Loki. “Where’d my notes go?” you asked him, knowing he was behind the disappearance.

“Your room,” he replied calmly as he packed up his game.

“And why are they there? I need them here where the studying is occurring,” you reminded your silly trickster. You couldn’t study without your notes.

“The key to doing well on an exam is to get plenty of rest and eat a good breakfast,” he told you  quite calmly and innocently.

“Surely another hour of studying-” you protested. 

He just gave you a look.

“You have done nothing else all day, darling. You are still healing, and need rest,” he told you  firmly. 

You sighed.  You knew a lost cause when you heard one. “I just want to do well on these,” you told him softly.

“And you will. I have every confidence that you will pass them with flying colors. Why don’t we have some ice cream before bed?” he blatantly bribed. You laughed at his blatancy, but nodded.

“Fine, pesky trickster,” you replied. He vanished his game and took your hands to pull you to your feet so you could go raid the freezer. You found a pint of your favorite right in the front of the freezer in plain sight. It hadn’t gotten stolen because Helene had written your name on it. You smiled at it, grabbed the pint and two spoons, and carried it all to the diningroom.

“You are not getting bowls too?” Loki asked.

“You can kiss me, but not share a container of ice cream?” you replied with a smile. He laughed and came to join you, sitting at your usual table, eating ice cream directly from the container. It was nice to have a normal end to your evening.

Do not reblog this please

My paternal grandmother is dying of stage four cancer so I'm visiting her out of state. Mother knows this and has been rather encouraging so far. Thing is, ummi (Indian for mother/grandmother, used in Islam) was taken to the hospital Tuesday afternoon because she was in severe pain and her meds weren't working. I rode in the ambulance with her and stayed with her as long as she would allow, which was hours, because it was night by the time my uncle and I left. Ummi doesn't want visitors because hospitals are a breeding ground for sickness, so i haven't been able to accompany my uncles when they go to the hospital.

So my mother, in her infinite wisdom There's no paraphrasing what she said and i can't do screenshots so have some direct quotes

Her: Hey How long are you staying in NY?

Me: Hi, probably until Saturday or Sunday. Auntie said I could stay as long as I wanted but dad seemed to be set on a week so I'm not entirely sure yet. Kodu's supposed to be here tomorrow or Saturday, though, so I'm looking forward to that. What's up with you? How have you been?

Her: “Auntie said” Anyway. Talk to your father

Me: That's just to say she doesn't care I was going to call him if he didn't come back to oomi's

Her: Listen. Please do not start any sentence statement or convo with me with “Auntie said” Ever. Okay. Let me know what he says. Most places are going to be on lockdown until they get this virus under control It won’t matter where you are you won’t be able to do much. At the very least spending this time with your grandmother will be good for both of you. If he’s set on a week, ask him why If it’s money, that’s not a reason. Figure out what it is.

Me: She's in the hospital. Was in serious pain and her meds weren't working

Her: Dang why didn’t you tell me When did she go? I’m probably going to come up there this weekend

Me: Tuesday

Her: Probably on Sunday. Damn Wolf That’s something you share

Me: Which is why I was like "long day, can't talk" she's fine so far, I just haven't seen her since we dropped her off

Her: That’s bullshit. Long day too tired to talk but Oomi is in the hospital. That shit ain’t hard Why not. Why don’t you go to the hospital She can’t have visitors?

Me: That whole thing was scary af but she should be fine now that she has the right meds

Her: I can’t with you. I just can’t. I’ll talk to you later.

Me: I went with her when she was admitted and whenever I'm up everyone is already out to see her Wait a minute, what did I say wrong?

Her: So you get your butt up earlier What?!?! Are you serious right now? I’ll vid chat when I get in the house. I’m about to pump gas

Me: Okay Her: What are you doing right now? Me: About to watch a movie with my uncle Do you want to talk?

Her: What have you done today?

Me: Showered, dressed, ate, cleaned a bit Went out to get my lunch myself so that took a bit out of me

Her: Yes. We will talk. I just want to give you something to really consider. Your grandmother is dying. You’re up there to spend this time with her. But you said everyone is gone by the time you get up. So should she die in the hospital while you’re at her house asleep that is going to sit well with you? What have you done to be a blessing and not a burden to that household? Are there dishes in the sink, or sitting around? Is the table cleaned off? Trash around that could be collected? And sweeping mopping or wiping down that could be done? Do you call her every day, a few times a day Play online scrabble or something What is your purpose? You don’t have to answer now. We will talk shortly

Me: It has literally been one day at the hospital. I went with her and stayed as long as I was allowed. She doesn't want many visitors.

Her: Today is Thursday Okay

Me: One day. It was Tuesday afternoon she was admit and Tuesday night that I got back

Her: You’re not a visitor. You’re her grand daughter. You could just be there. Quiet in the cut chillin. Pouring water, giving her ice. Helping her to the bathroom or just being there. If everyone is gone when you get up then you get up get dressed and go by yourself. You know how to get places. You could figure it out. Or ask for help. If she’s been there since Tuesday that’s three days. Tuesday. Wednesday. Thursday. three not one. You went Tuesday. Okay and if she dies tomorrow? I understand what you’re trying to say. I need you to think bigger picture. Just think. We’ll talk in a minute.

Me: I'd rather not, if that's okay with you

Her: No. It isn’t. You’re salty and don’t want to hear why I have to say I’m salty and really pissed about how you’re living. We still have to talk to each other We can set ground rules if you need to but we’ll talk

Me: My uncles don't go to visit her every second of the day and no one is cleaning here. Would you say any of this to the people who see her every day and live in this house? Okay

Her: None of those people are my kid. Or people I speak to regularly. But if I did, yes I would. And I’m sure you know that. It sure the point of that question

 I have some things that I wrote out but didn’t send but I really just... I want to keep my mother in my life and try to understand where she’s coming from but some of what she pulls makes me want to throw myself out a window. She's my mother, for what it's worth. She got me this far. She wasn't the best, and I'm seeing her for who she truly is, but if I cut her off and something terrible happens to her, I'm going to regret that for a long time.

In a way she's right about me not really being around ummi and now it's been two days so i get where she's coming from but goddamn it she sees  things in terms of output and that's not what i have to give.

Version 1 of what I want to say to her but can't

why should i have to sit here and listen to you say the same thing over and over again when all that comes out of your mouth reduces me to what i can physically do for others? I've been helping ummi. I rode with her to the hospital and stayed with her as long as I was allowed. You might not have been here in a while but this house is too much for me to clean on my own and there's nowhere to put stuff. These are not my things, i will not move them around if no one knows where they go. I cleaned the bathroom to the best of my ability and have been trying to straighten up ummi's room. Even if I wasn't doing that, she doesn't want me at the hospital. She sent me away because she said she didn't want me to see her like this. You want me to go against her? You want me to google maps the place and go wherever? You wouldn't let me go anywhere with my friends when we lived in Waldorf and you like to say that I haven't changed since I was twelve years old. What makes you think I could pull that off?

Version two of what I want to say to her but can't

There's a lot I could say to this. I refuse to be seen for what I can physically give to other people. I could clean the house, and I have been trying to. You asked me what I did today, not what I've been doing all this time. There are four adults twice my age living in this house. There is a baby living in this house. The house is cleaner than it was the last time I was here and that's great, but since you obviously know what you're talking about, why should I be the only one cleaning a house that has always been like this and hasn't changed since I graduated high school?

What I think would be appropriate to say version 1

This conversation is very inappropriate given the uncertain circumstances and I would appreciate that you not use those circumstances to preach until something changes. Shoving a potential regret in my face will not get you the results you desire. As for cleaning the house, I was already doing that. You asked what I did today, not how my week has been. I would appreciate if we could move onto a more pleasant topic or resume speaking another day.

16th Anniversary Of The Best Day Ever || The Baes

Summary: Nemo’s 16th birthday!!!

Dated: October 9th, 2019

@justkeepdancing-nemo​

MARLIN

Best day of the year, best day of the year! October 9th was Mu-yeol’s favorite holiday. Not because of Ecuadorian Independence Day, or Leif Erikson Day, but because it was the 16th Anniversary of the Best Day of His Life. Or, if you want to be boring, Nam-min’s 16th birthday. 

He didn’t care for his own birthday, but his son’s was special. On October 9th, 2003, Nam-min came into the world a little over a month early, giving his parents a scare, but they both immediately adored him. He was the child they tried for three years just to conceive, and from his first breath was their entire world. Now with just himself, Mu-yeol had to love him enough for two people. 

And he did. He sometimes got all choked up just thinking about how much he loved his son and how wonderful and beautiful his baby boy had become. 

He loved him so damn much. That’s why he treated his birthday like a national holiday. 

Like every year he got up early to make seaweed soup and to place his presents on the table. Once that was ready, he crept into Nemo’s room and slipped under his covers for the yearly birthday waking up ritual. 

“Nam-min ah. Nam-miiiin, wake up,” he said gently as he pulled Nemo in for snuggles. He played with his hair as he kept coaxing him awake. “Wake up, you know what day it is. It’s the best day! It’s your birthday! My baby is sixteen already.”

“Wake up,” Mu-yeol said, kissing his forehead and snuggling him closer. “So I can annoy you with my love.”

NEMO: 

Nemo had always loved his birthday. A whole day dedicated to him? Who wouldn’t love that? But he loved it not so much because he got presents, or because of yummy seaweed soup, or the nut-cake, or the fact he got to decide everything that happened on his birthday--

He loved it cuz Appa loved it. He loved it cuz Appa was always in such a good mood. No nightmares, no grouchiness, no extra paranoia. Just him, just Appa. 

And this year, his birthday meant the end of Nemo’s grounding. So it was the best day ever.

Despite that, Nemo was solid as a rock in bed that morning, his covers pulled over his head. It’d started gettin’ chilly like it always did, and a little chill always made it harder to get up in the mornings, even for someone like Nemo who was gogogo. His toes curled under his blankets and he fisted the blanket too, holding it tighter at the creaking of his door. Oooo, there’s Appa, he thought to himself, barely stifling a smile, as he pretended to still be sleeping deeply.

Part of that was cuz….well-- no sixteen-year-old should want cuddles from his Appa.

But Nemo still did. 

So he pretended. And when Appa dragged him close, he played at a groan and wiggled half-heartedly. “Appaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa,” he groaned with sleepiness. “Wahhhhh, gerroff!” he wiggled more.

MARLIN

“Nope, not allowed. It’s the sixteenth anniversary of the best day of my life, so that’s forbidden.” Mu-yeol said to letting go of Nemo. 

He carded his fingers through Nemo’s hair and smiled down at him all gross and affectionate as Nemo refused to open his eyes. Rude— how are they going to celebrate his birthday if he’s asleep? Ah, kids. Occasionally he’d press another soft kiss to the top of his head. 

“Do you want to skip school for your birthday?” He asked quietly as he continued to play with Nemo’s hair. “Or do you want to be stuck hanging out with your dumb embarrassing dad one of your weekend days instead?”

Playfully, he poked Nemo’s side where he was ticklish. 

NEMO: 

Skip school? He could do that?!

Nemo’s eyes finally opened, blinking all the tired outta them as he looked up at his dad incredulously, like he was waitin’ for him to change his mind. Plus, didn’t his Appa have to work? It was Grow-day, not to mention still a couple of days before the Full Moon Dance, which meant the Hollow fluttered, flittered, twittered, and buzzed with all sorts of activity. Though Nemo didn’t have talent class this week cuz all the fast-flying talents were getting ready for the Windy Day Race on October 13. 

So… he didn’t have talent class. And he didn’t have dance on Wednesdays either…

Unless!

“Wh-- this isn’t a test, is it?” he squinted at his Appa suspiciously. “I can actually skip school if I want?”

MARLIN

“아니 (ani). I wouldn’t set a trap. Mm, not on your birthday anyway. 그냥 (keunyang)...I just wanted to hangout with you on your birthday like we always do. And since you’re in school now that would take up your entire day.” And anyway, Mu-yeol knew he wouldn’t be in this good of a mood come the weekend. It was Nemo’s birthday not his birthweek that always (almost) restores him to him old self. 

He smiled down at Nemo in his arms as he narrowed his eyes at him. “You can skip school. Only when I offer it though; if I get a call you’re absent without my permission you’re gonna die.”

Mu-yeol punctuated the death threat with his warmest smile. 

“Aigoo, my baby’s growing up. You won’t need me anymore pretty soon.”

 It was a bittersweet thought. Nam-min not needing him anymore meant he wouldn’t have anything left to silence the worst thoughts in the back of his brain; live to take care of Nam-min didn’t apply once his baby boy became an adult, and it was the only thing keeping him breathing most days. It was the only thing that was enough and that terrified him. 

Most days, anyway, it terrified him. But on October 9th, nothing ever mattered but the fact that X number of years ago, his son was born on that day, and it was the one truly good day of the year. 

“You were so small.” He sighed, patting the space between his shoulder blades. “You came earlier than we thought, you dramatic jerk.”

NEMO: 

Wow, he really was gonna get to miss school. 

Which meant-- his friends.

Nemo hadn’t expected the sharp, quick stab of yearning, nor what followed after: guilt. Cuz he obviously couldn’t tell Appa that maybe he did wanna go to school after all. First of all, that was stupid. What kid wanted to go to school on his birthday? Sure, he’d get to see his mates and they’d all tell him happy birthday, but he’d only get a couple of minutes before class, and then lunch, and then that was really all…and in between, he’d sit through awful French and confusing History and didn’t he have a quiz in English which he didn’t study for? 

And wasn’t his birthday kinda his and Appa’s...thing? 

Yeah.

Nemo swallowed down that feeling then, cuz goin’ to school just wasn’t a real option, and did what he did every year as Marlin started in on his tirade. He grooooooooaned and wiggled some more, finally pushing Marlin off and sitting up. “Heeeeere we go again, next you’ll tell me about Eomma counting all my fingers and toes and fighting the healing-talents to hold me just five more minutes--” and though he was acting annoyed at the Same Old Story, the one Marlin told Every Single Year, he was grinning. 

Cuz he liked it. He wanted to hear it. 

MARLIN

“And if I do?” Mu-yeol challenged, reaching up to poke Nemo’s forehead. 

He hummed and sat up next to Nemo, wincing as sunlight got him right in the eyeballs. “She punched one of them, you know. Your mother was scary and always ready to...throw hands? Is that what it is? Especially when it was about you.”

He didn’t tell him how she had to take an exam at university the day after giving birth— and yes, she did go and ace that exam, and when her professor found out he scolded Mu-yeol for ‘letting your wife do that.’ But So-yeon did whatever the hell So-yeon wanted to do, Always. There was no allowing, forbidding, or talking her out of anything. She was determined to finish her masters’ on time to shut up all of the men in the program who talked about how STEM was no place for a wife and mother and said she should drop out and raise her child. 

Not for the first time, he wanted to tell him. 

“She always said having you was the best decision we ever made.” He said instead. “So the verdict on skipping school? If you really want to go we can do your birthday on Sunday.”

He hopped out of Nemo’s bed. “There’s seaweed soup ready, with pickled shriiiimps.”

NEMO: 

He only really had a couple of birthdays left before he really would be too old to celebrate with Appa and let him baby Nemo like this. This could even be the last one. Nemo would be well into his apprenticeship when next October swung around, after all. Who knew what his life was gonna be like then? What he’d be training in, what kinda time he’d have? 

Maybe he was already too old for this stuff now but… 

He wanted at least one more. 

So Nemo grinned. “Skipping, definitely!” he rolled out of bed too and then scampered past Appa. “SEAWEED SOOOOOOUP!” He called, giggling. 

MARLIN 

He felt tension he didn’t even know he was holding in his shoulders ease. What a relief it was that his baby hadn’t outgrown him just yet! Even if Nam-min was away from him more this year, he still wanted to hangout with his dad. That was enough. 

“Eat as much as you want,” Mu-yeol said as a laddled out a bowl for Nemo. “You have to eat a lot if you hope to grow any taller.”

NEMO:  Nemo plopped down in his chair, drawing up both his legs so he was criss-cross, then reached for his spoon. Course before he even got a spoonful, he shot a look at Appa, sour as elderberries. Because yeah, Nemo was small-- even for a pixie he was small, and especially for a fast-flying talent. Fast-flyers were usually some of the taller talents around actually, cept for maybe scout talents. Nemo was small the way a pollen-talent fairy was normally small-- or a bee-herding-talent was small. 

“Aish,” he sucked his teeth at his Appa and shook his head. “I’m not that small! I mean, I got long legs y’know,” he added hotly. And that was true. Nemo was nearly all legs, which helped with his lines in dance. (It didn’t do much for fast-flying though.) 

He scooped some soup into his mouth, and then grabbed the bowl and lifted the whole thing to his lips. “Here, I’ll eat the whole thing, so you can’t have any!” 

And he slurped half his bowl down to prove it. 

MARLIN

Mu-yeol playfully stuck his tongue out at Nam-min as he slid him a cup of elderflower juice. “It's not your fault, your mother’s human-size height was only 162 cm. She was the tiniest fast-flying fairy in both Hollows we’d lived in. Blame her for those genes.”

He barely stifled a snort as Nemo slurped his soup up like it was room temperature water and not hot soup.

“알았어, 알았어 (arasseo, arasseo). Go ahead, eo? I’m full watching you eat anyway.” He said, though he quickly ate a few spoonfuls himself in case Nemo swiped his bowl. Because he would. 

“What’s on the birthday festivities agenda?” Mu-yeol asked, spooning some kimchi onto some rice. “We can do whatever you want except hard drugs. Cocaine might be negotiable-- no, wait. That’s the last thing you need.”

NEMO: 

First, Nemo just gargled through his soup, still slurping it down. It really was kinda too hot to do so, but Nemo had already started so it meant he had to commit to it. And commit he did, until it was all done and he let out an “Ahhhhh,” plopping his bowl down and smirking at Appa. He said he’d do it. And Nemo could never resist a challenge. 

He rolled his eyes next though. “Appa, you’re really not funny,” he told him, shaking his head. Appa and his dad jokes. “Mmmm can we…. Oooooh, Appa, can we go dragonfly racing? Please. Pleeeeeeeeeeease, it’s my birthday! I’m 16, that’s plenty old enough!”  

Dragonfly racing was, of course, when fairies skittered across the Kohaku River on the back of dragonflies. Appa always forbid Nemo because dragonflies could be a bit, er, moody-- prone to 360-degree spins, or dipping real close to the water. He’d always been terrified Nemo would fall off and drown. 

Why was Nemo even asking? Well! He asked at least once a year, and a 16th birthday felt like a good time when Appa might not be able to say no. 

“We can go toooogetheer,” Nemo sing-songed. 

MARLIN

“Watch your mouth before I glue it shut, you little brat,” Mu-yeol said in response to being told he wasn’t a comedic genius, of course while pinching Nemo’s cheek while calling him a little brat. “What’s the number one lesson of life? Always laugh when your dad, your employer, or father-in-law makes a joke.”

Another spoonful of soup had almost made it to his mouth when Nemo made his birthday proposal, and the spoon fell from his hand, landing in the bowl with a plonk! Dragonfly racing!? Let him repeat, DRAGONFLY RACING!?!?

Was he trying to make sure this was his last birthday?

Mu-yeol clasped his hands in his lap to keep from wildly gesturing. In the spirit of Nemo’s birthday, he wasn’t going to give an immediate hard no. Today, and today only, he would hear him out about dragonfly racing. Maybe even say yes, and deal with the panic in his chest the entire time.

He taught Nemo to swim in Atlantis Lake in human size, without wings that couldn’t get wet, of course. Logically he knew that Nemo could probably tread water with wet wings long enough to drift toward an aquatic plant to hold onto until he could be pulled out of the river by a fairy with dry wings. It was still risky.

And yet, at Nemo’s age, Mu-yeol had been dragonfly racing for years. His dongsaeng-dul* would compete with him and the other fairies their age for prizes of anything from found objects teenage fairies used for bartering, to ₩5,000 notes the kids whose parents had human jobs would throw in the prize pot.

*reader’s note: dongsaeng = younger sibling; -dul is a particle to add to make any noun plural 

His last two logical brain cells reminded him that he was much more stupid than Nemo at his age, and that he survived. His father wasn’t half as protective as he was, so of course Nemo would be fine.

The other hundred billion weren’t half as reasonable.

“Nam-min…” before he could say no though, he cleared his throat to stop himself. He was gonna give him a chance, remember? “Only if you can tell me the procedure for if you fall off. Repeat it to me three times, then we will seriously consider it.”

NEMO: 

Appa didn’t say no right away. Whoa.

This was already a win. It was also not completely expected, and so Nemo found himself wide-eyed and leaning forward. “Really?” he responded at first. He had to absorb that Appa hadn’t immediately laughed off the idea like he had done all of Nemo’s life, before patting Nemo on the head and saying something about how hilarious Nemo was with that persistent death wish of his! And did he want to give his dear old Appa a heart attack?!

Maybe sixteen really did make the difference.

Maybe sixteen was going to be his year, after all. 

Nemo swallowed and leaned back, adjusting in his seat and then crackling his knuckles as he prepared to answer Appa’s test. He was pretty sure he knew about the procedures...even if he’d never really gotten to try them out. All the other fast-flying-talents though talked about dragonfly racing all the time (it’s why he wanted to do it so badly.) 

“Number 1--” he held up a finger, “--don’t panic. Number 2, get your head above water and your feet under you, so your wings don’t drag you down. Number 3, tread water in direction of the current toward the shore! Don’t fight the current, cuz you’ll get too tired too fast.” 

That was right...right? Right! 

MARLIN

Mu-yeol watched Nemo carefully as he ran through the DON'T DROWN protocols. Careful to eye him for any signs of bullshitting or hesitation, and satisfied when he found none that his son actually understood how to not drown, he supposed he now had to actually consider dragonfly racing. 

Maybe if he let Nemo do this once, let him have this one thing, he won’t do things like sneaking out with that awful kid Louie. This is exactly why he didn’t want to send Nemo to school, he knew he’d be too preoccupied with looking cool and being popular to actually care about school. He knew he wouldn’t understand that what mattered was finding your group of friends and being cool to them. It was the same for fairies in school, and fairies like Mu-yeol who didn’t go to school. Why couldn’t Nemo be like his mother was and only care what her friends thought of her?

Nemo was like him. Insecure and soft. 

Maybe dragonfly racing and the panic attack he’d be pushing down the entire time would be worth it. Maybe Nemo would take the victory and be satisfied. 

“Good. So...dragonfly racing. Are you sure there’s...nothing else?”

Housemates 15

Kogan was waiting on a park bench.  He was wishing he smoked.  If he had a cigarette, the campus security guard wouldn’t be watching him so intently.  He would have a reason to be here.  As it was he was just lottering.  That wasn’t as socially acceptable as a cigarette break.

He snorted quietly to himself.  Yeah.  If he was out here getting lung cancer and sharing that opportunity with everyone who walked passed, he would be fine.  As it was not bothering anyone was going to get him in trouble.

The library was closed.  The campus coffee shop was closed.  He was a big scary orc, lurking in the dark, waiting to pick up a co-ed.  He stood up and went into the building.  He could waste some time if he found a bathroom and took a piss.  Maybe.  Vinny’s class was supposed to be over five minutes ago.  He didn’t want to miss her if she came out while he was hiding from security.  Part of the deal was someone to walk her home from these-

“Sir!  Can I see some ID?”

Shit.  Well, at least it was ‘sir’ and not ‘Hey! You!’  He knew this song and dance.  He turned and faced the man in his twenties, who was armed, but mostly holding a big flash light like a billy club.  “It’s in the inside pocket of my jacket.” He explained, moving slowly as he unzipped his coat.

“I bet you don’t have a student ID,” the kid snarked.

“Nope.  But I can show you my Veterans ID if it helps.”  Kogan handed the kid his drivers license.  The brat didn’t even look at it, but kept shining the light in Kogan’s eyes.

“Can you tell me your business on campus tonight, sir?”

“One of the people in my building is taking a Chem lab here tonight.  If you notice my address is right across the park.  She asked me to walk her home rather than have to cross campus alone in the dark.”

“Night labs were over ten minutes ago, sir.  Can you be more specific about which student or which class?”

“Chem 403, and her name -”

“Ah!” he interrupted with sudden understanding.  “Yeah.  Dr Gilchrist always goes at least ten - fifteen minutes long on these things.”  He tossed the wallet back at Kogan without more than glancing at the ID.  “Are you walking her home on Wednesday and Friday too?”

Kogan narrowed his eyes, “She said the lab was only Monday and Wednesday, but yeah, either me or someone from the building will be walking her home.”

“Kogan!  Hey, Stu!”

The security guy finally pointed his flashlight at the ground, “Vinny?  I thought you lived with your mom.”

“Yeah, well, I have Math in the morning and you know how it is.”

“If you are living just across the park, you can always call one of us to walk you home,” Stu offered.

“Nah, safe walks aren’t a priority and I don’t want to get stuck on campus for an extra hour if you are called out to something more exciting.  You giving Kogan a hard time?”

Without the light shining in his eyes, Kogan could read the security guard's ID, Stuart Johnstone.  He made a point of memorizing the employee number as well.

“Uh, yeah.  He’s lurking on campus, after dark, wearing a biker jacket.”

Vinny gave Stu an easy grin, “Well, no one is going to try anything when I have him walking me home.”

“Are you sure you want to leave with this guy, Vinny?”

“Absolutely.  He’s been driving me to church every Sunday all summer. Anyway, I have Math at 8AM, so we are going to head out.  Unless you want to card me too.”

Stu pretended to consider it.  “Nah.  Have a good night, Vinny,” and in a much cooler tone he added, “Kogan.”

Vinny looped her hand over Kogan’s elbow as she led him away.  That was new.  They were well into the park before she spoke.  “I am so sorry about Stuart.  I think he’s on nights so he doesn’t have to interact with people.”

Kogan just snorted. “Derick says I need to make you go to sleep because class tomorrow is early.”

Vinny nodded. “Straight home, brush my teeth, off to sleep. As soon as I just finish up a few notes.”

Two hours later, Kogan gave up on the pointed looks. He brought Thea into Vinny’s room. He walked over to the desk, closed her books and said, “You have a full day of classes tomorrow. You only have six hours to sleep. Now. Are you going to go to bed and stay there or do I need to make Thea tie you to the bed frame.

Vinny stared at him. Thea looked appalled. Kogan kept talking. “I mean it. Brush your teeth then go to sleep and since we’ve already had this conversation four times, what do you expect me to do to make it stick?  If you aren’t getting more sleep than you would at your Mom’s she isn’t going to let you stay here.”

Vinny scuttled off, brushed her teeth and put on her jammies in the bathroom then was back in her room and under the covers in a flash. Kogan was still watching.  Thea was still looking awkward.

“Right!” He announced.  Then he crawled into her bed with her. “Thea, you take the other side. And poke me if I snore.”  The drider looked decidedly uncomfortable with the idea, but rested his arachnoid half on the floor so that he could rest it humanoid half over the bed.  Vinny gave him a sleepy smile and pulled Thea’s arm around her as she let Kogan spoon her.

The kid was more tired than Kogan had guessed because it only took a few moments before her body went slack and her breathing slowed.  Thea tried to ease away from her.

“Don’t you dare!” Kogan hissed.  Thea froze.  “She could have asked you to leave.  If you really want to go, fine.  But this is your chance to get used to the idea of being close to her without sticking your foot in your mouth.”

Thea nodded and settled back onto the bed.

-----

Vinny woke with a curse when her alarm went off.  She knew she wasn’t running with Derick on Tuesdays and Thursdays now that classes had started, but it was still a jolt thinking she was late.  She wiggled away from Thea, crawled over a snoring Kogan, grabbed her clothes and headed to her bathroom to get ready.  It was surprisingly cool that morning.  She made a note to find some slippers and make sure the curtains were closed before bed.

As she bounced into the kitchen and headed to the industrial grade coffee pot,  She waved at Derick eating his supper before bed.  Tristan threw another bagel into the toaster for her.

“Supper tonight will be a little early.  I’m making stew so that everyone one can help themselves when they are ready.”

Bazur nodded as he read the paper.  “What is on that you need to be out of here early?”

Vinny made her coffee and carried it to the table.  “Today I have two classes from eight until eleven, homework from noon until three, then shopping and cooking so that I can be at work at the coffee shop from seven to ten.  Then I come home and start all over.”

“When do you sleep?” Bazur asked.

Vinny blinked as she sipped her coffee.  “From eleven until six, then running before breakfast and back to class.  Monday, Wednesday and Friday I have three classes, 9am, 10am and 12pm. Then homework, grocery shopping, and cooking dinner before my Monday/Wednesday lab from 7:30 to 10:30.”

“Closer to 10:45,” Kogan rumbled from the stairs.  “Then homework until almost 1am or I threaten you to make you sleep. And you are working 8-4 on the weekend. This doesn’t seem sustainable.”

“It’ll be fine.  I don’t have the party lifestyle.  Trust me, I’ve been managing for the last three years.  I got this.”

Tristan cleared his throat, “I bet that your mom has been taking care of groceries and cooking for the last three years.”

“Yeah, but I also had a hour bus ride to and from campus everyday.”  The guys around the table shared a look.  “What?” she asked.

It was Dren that cleared his throat.  “You could study on the bus.  The time you are working for us is coming out of your sleep time isn’t it?”

Vinny looked a little guilty. “It will be fine,” she repeated.  “I only have a year left.  It will be fine.”

No one said anything.

It took less than two weeks for it to become apparent that it wasn’t fine.  The second Sunday after classes started she fell asleep on the bus on her way to work.  She missed the start of her shift and had to get a cab from the end of the bus line to the cafe.  The cab fare ate up most of the income for the day. She also got a lecture from her boss not to make a habit of it.  Her concentration was shot.  She was making mistakes in customer orders and her penmanship deteriorated to the point where she was having a hard time reading her notes.

She came home and while the chickens were roasting, tried to figure out her budget to see if she could give up the weekday shifts at the cafe.  There was lots of muttered curses at the computer.

Kevin was watching from the shadows, “Why don’t you get a loan?”  Vinny froze.  “Lots students have loans,” he continued.

“I can’t.”

“I know it would suck, but it would only be one year, not four.”

“No.  I really can’t.  My father makes too much money for me to qualify for an official student loan and I can’t get a line of credit without a co-signer.  Ma’s credit is still shot from the divorce so she can’t.”

“And your dad won’t co-sign for you?”  It was the wrong thing to say.  Kevin could tell as soon as it was out.  There wasn’t away to take it back.

“My father is busy with his new family and his younger wife out west.  We haven’t had so much as a Christmas card from eight years.  I did call to ask when I first got into school.  He told me to figure it out.  Said it would help me build character.”  Vinny closed her laptop with a snap and went upstairs to her room.  

Kevin kept an eye on the chicken.  When Vinny didn’t come back downstairs, he was the one to turn off the oven when the timer beeped.

Spooky Scary Funny Bone Ticklers (Chapter 1)

This story serves as a direct follow-up to “Tickle… or Be Tickled.” In this story, which takes place one day after its predecessor, Frisk, Chara, Asriel, and MK spend an entire day and night together bonding with their two favorite wacky skeletons, Sans and Papyrus. And judging by the title of the story, it sounds like Sans and Papyrus are going to be doing something rather crazy, something that’s bound to cause lots and lots of laughter. But before we dive into that, let’s take some time to meet 2 new characters. ;) 

Undertale© Toby Fox.

*********************************************

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

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SPOOKY SCARY FUNNY BONE TICKLERS

Chapter 1: More Lizards?! MK and Alphys Aren’t the Only Ones?!

 It is a Sunday morning, one day before the first day of Frisk, Chara, Asriel, and MK’s final week of school. And on this particular day, the four children themselves will be spending time with their favorite skeleton duo, Sans and Papyrus aka the Skelebros, and they will be leaving with them as soon as MK’s mother arrives to drop off MK’s younger sister. In addition to being like an older brother to two human children, MK is a biological brother to a young deadpan, spooky, cynical, and mysterious lizard girl named Gracie. As an early birthday present, Gracie wants to spend a few hours alone with Gaster, which is the reason why she will be arriving to see all of them very soon. And it should also be noted that Gracie is not the sister that says mean things to MK. MK has more than one sister and that role goes to his 22-year-old half-sister (same father, different mother).

 Right now, MK, the Dreemurr kids, and the Skelebros are chilling in Alphys and Undyne’s living room with Gaster, who arrived earlier this morning, as they wait for MK’s younger sister to arrive. Undyne got back from a short vacation the previous day and to celebrate her return home, Alphys, the Skelebros, the Dreemurr Kids, and MK threw her a welcome back party and then all of them stayed overnight. MK’s younger sister isn’t well acquainted with Alphys and Undyne like MK is, so she did not attend the party.

 Frisk: Boy, we sure are excited to spend time with you today, Sans and Papyrus.

 Chara: Haha! I’ll say. And man, it kinda sucks that you won’t be joining us Gaster. Don’t get me wrong though. I completely understand your situation. *stated Chara a bit disappointedly while playing with MK’s feet and toes*

 MK: Oh, heeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheehee!!! Chara, heeheeheeheeheeheeheehee, careful, heeheeheeheeheeheehee, that tickles! Heeheeheeheeheeheeheeheehee!!! *giggled MK preciously in response to Chara accidentally touching his right middle toe in such a way that it tickled him*

 Alphys and Undyne have 2 couches and a love seat in their living room. On one couch is MK, Chara, and Papyrus; on the other couch is Asriel, Frisk, and Sans; and on the loveseat is Gaster. And at this very moment, MK has his feet in Chara’s lap. Why? Because Chara has a rather strong foot fetish and she wants to learn how to control it in front of a large crowd. And she feels that having MK’s scaly feet placed in her lap while others are watching is the best way to do it. Now, under normal circumstances, this would be a fairly simple task for Chara. But in this case however, not so much; because Chara likes MK’s feet a lot and finds them extremely cute, meaning that whenever she stares at them for too long, she loses all sense of control and starts worshipping them and/or smothering herself with them; like she did last Wednesday in front of Frisk and Blooky… and a few hours after tickling Alphys with MK last Friday night… and for a little while last night before going to bed. So far, she’s doing fairly well controlling herself; even if her face is noticeably red with blush at the moment. Well, at least it matches the color of her eyes; sort of. Yeah, Chara has red eyes.

 Gaster: I know you do, Chara. That little girl’s wanted to spend time alone with me for quite some time now. And hopefully by the end of the day, she’ll see that I’m not such a bad guy.

 Although she is not one of Gaster’s followers, MK’s younger sister, Gracie, has idolized Gaster ever since she was about 4 years old. But due to taking the “Never meet your heroes!” phrase very seriously however, she was very hesitant to actually meet Gaster. She was extremely worried that he would be a completely different person than that of who she thought he was and often dreaded what would happen if she made any type of interaction with him because of it. But, after lots and lots of convincing from her older brother, MK, she finally brought herself to meet the legendary scientist himself. There was just one catch though. MK had to be with her at all times. And that was perfectly fine because MK loves his sister very much and always felt much obliged to be by her side supporting her every step of the way. But today however, MK’s sister is taking a huge step by spending a day with Gaster… WITHOUT MK!! After all, she’s going to be turning 10 soon and she believes that it’s finally time for her to start “growing up” despite the fact that she’s already quite mature for her age. And she feels that the best way to do that is to do things that she finds very, very frightening.

 Asriel: Pfft. Bad guy?! “Uncle” Gaster, you’re anything but a bad guy!

 MK: Haha! You got that right, Az! And Gaster, you be sure to make this day very special day for her, ok, dude? *stated MK while wiggling and splaying his six toes in Chara’s lap, unintentionally teasing Chara with every passing second*

 Gaster: Hehehe. I will, MK. I know how important tenth birthdays are to your family. I’ll be sure to do my absolute best to make this day unforgettable for her.

 MK: Oh, I have no doubts about that, Gaster. *sniffles* My little sis is growing up so fast. *sniffles* Making a grown-up decision like that; *sniffles* almost brings a tear to my eye. *sniffles*

 Then Chara, just looking for an excuse to tickle MK’s feet pulled her rainbow feather out of her pocket and said after locking the young lizard boy’s feet into a “death grip” with her left arm,

 Chara: Oh, MK… not if I have anything to say about it! Heeheeheeheeheeheeheehee~!! *giggled Chara teasingly as she began stroking MK’s left foot with her rainbow feather, eliciting preciously frantic laughter and squeaks from the young reptilian boy in response*

 MK: PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF, FWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHAHA!!!! NOHOHOHOHOHOHHOHOHOHO, CHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHARA, *squeak* HAHAHAHAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! NOHOHOHOHOHOHOOT THE FEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHATHER!!!! *MK pleaded* EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! *squeak* OHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO PLEEHEEHEEHEEEHEEHEEASE, NOHOHOHOHOHOT THE FEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEATHER!!!! GAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! IT TIIIIIICKLES TOO MUCH!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!! YAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA~!!!!

 Chara: Heeheeheeheeheeheehee!! Of course it does, Lizzy Boy! You are ludicrously feather ticklish after all! Heeheeheeheeheeheehee!! Coochie coochie coo! *teased Chara as she switched over to MK’s right foot with her rainbow feather* Coochie coochie coo!

 It’s true, he is! MK is so feather ticklish on his feet that just one feather stroke is always enough to send the young reptilian boy himself over the edge with frantic laughter! Frantic laughter that’s almost on par with Asriel, Toriel, and Asgore’s laughter whenever their feet get tickled by a single feather! And Chara is well aware of that too. Very well aware! ;) MK’s scaly feet are Chara’s favorite spots to tickle after all. Especially with the rainbow feather… that she stole from MK’s mother, Lydia, a few weeks ago during sixth grade art class!

 MK: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!! CHAHAHAHAHAHAHARA, *squeak* PLEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEASE STOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOP!!!! *pleaded MK once again, wiggling his six scaly toes frantically with every passing second as a means of dealing with the tickles from Chara’s feather* HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! I CAHAHAHAHAHAHAN’T TAKE ANYMORE TIHIHIHIHIHIHIHICKLING!!!! *squeak* FWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA~!!!!

 ???: Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!! Is someone tickling my little honey puff in there? *asked a certain female lizard monster while walking into the living room with Alphys and Undyne, causing Chara to stop tickling MK for the time being*

 That voice. Not only does it sound like that of a young lady but it is also the voice of a beautiful female lizard monster. But it wasn’t Alphys’s voice though. No. Instead, it was the voice of a light yellow 36-year-old armless female lizard monster; a barefoot lizard monster of thin-build with long brown hair in place of head spikes wearing a burgundy ankle-length dress (it has no arm holes), a burgundy ribbon in her hair, and a burgundy ribbon on her tail. …MK’S MOTHER, LYDIA, the art teacher at Toriel’s elementary school!! :D

 MK: *excited gasp* Mom!! You’re here!! *shouted MK excitedly*

 Lydia: Heeheeheehee!! Hi there, honey puff. *said Lydia cutely to her son, MK* Mommy’s missed you. Heeheeheehee!!

 MK: Heeheeheehee!! I’ve missed you too, Mom. Even though it’s only been like a little less than 2 days. Hehe! Anyway, how are you?

 Lydia: Oh, I can’t complain. Heeheehee!!

 Seconds later, Lydia noticed her son’s feet in Chara’s lap and asked,

 Lydia: Awwwwwww! Was Chara tickling your little tootsie cuties just now, honey puff?

 Chara: Heeheeheehee!! Why, yes, I was, Lydia. And with this feather no less. *Chara answered for MK while holding up her rainbow feather for Lydia to see* Heeheeheehee!!

 Lydia: *gasp* Oh my goodness; Chara, my dear, where did you get that feather? *asked Lydia cheekily, VERY cheekily, as if she knew that Chara stole the feather from her at one point when she wasn’t looking*

 Uh oh! Looks like Chara got busted!! :O

 Chara: (OH CRAP!!) Um, uh, I-I, um, well, you see, uh, uh, um… *sigh* I can’t lie. I stole it from your box of feathers during art class a few weeks ago, Lydia. …I’m sorry. *Chara apologized with a sad look on her face moments before offering to give the feather back to Lydia* …Here, you can have it back if you want.

 Lydia: …Oh, no, no, I don’t want it back, dear. …You hang onto it. I insist.

 Chara: R-Really? But I stole it. I-It’s not right to s-steal anything f-from anyone.  

 Lydia: Pfft. Chara, please, it’s just a feather; albeit a very beautiful feather but still a feather nonetheless. …Heck, if anyone deserves to have it, it’s you, my dear. *assured Lydia with a heart-warming smile*

 Chara: You, you mean it?

 Lydia: Absolutely! That is unless you don’t think you’re worthy enough to “wield its power.” *teased Lydia* Heeheeheeheehee!!

 Chara: Wait, what do you mean by that? *asked Chara confusedly, not entirely sure what Lydia’s trying to tell her*

 Lydia: Oh, I think you already know, my dear. Heeheeheehee!! *wink wink*

 After seeing Lydia wink at her, Chara figured out what she wanted her to do. :)

 Chara: Ohhhhhhhh, ok, I get it now! You want me to tickle something with it. …Hmm, how about this extremely cute pair of ticklish scaly feet? *asked Chara cheekily, acknowledging MK’s feet, which are still resting in her lap*

 Lydia: Heeheeheehee!! Oh yes, for sure, my dear. And here, I’ll help you.

 Seconds later, Lydia pulled a burgundy feather, something she carries with her practically everywhere, out of her dress pocket with her tail and then used that burgundy feather to tickle MK’s left foot, dragging it across every inch of his sole, wiggling it teasingly in between his toes, twiddling it masterfully under his toes, etc. while Chara focuses on his right foot with her rainbow feather. …Like MK, Lydia has a tail and she knows how to use it! ;) And she should considering the fact that she has no arms. …Right? ;)

 MK: PFFFFFFFFFFF, HAHAHHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!! OHOHOHOHOHOHHOHOHOHO GOHOHOHOHOHOD, NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!!!!! *squeak* HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!! NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOT TWO FEHEHEHEHEHEHEATHERS!!!!!! *MK pleaded through his hysterical laughter as he tried to pull his feet out of Chara’s “death grip” but to no avail* EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!!!! HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!! MOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOM, CHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHARA, HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, STOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOP!!!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!!!! GAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA~!!!!!!

 Alphys: Heeheeheeheehee!! Yes! Feather tickles for the win! Heeheeheeheehee!!

 Undyne: (OH…MY…GOD! TOO CUTE! HE’S TOO CUTE!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! X3) *squealed Undyne to herself while trying as hard as possible not to accidentally squeal out loud*

 As Chara and Lydia tickle MK together, everyone else is sitting and standing idly by watching them in action with large smiles on their faces. And out of all of the individuals that are currently in the living room, Undyne is having the hardest time containing herself. Undyne ABSOLUTELY LOVES adorable things and she finds MK’s laughter and expressions while being tickled in a fun way beyond adorable to the point that all she wants to do is squee with massive amounts of delight… like that of a schoolgirl. It’s a trait of hers that’s all part of her cute side, a side of Undyne that only Alphys knows about… for now at least; because if Undyne can’t manage to contain herself, she will wind up revealing her cute side to everyone by squeeing incredibly loudly. And she doesn’t want to do that! Not today anyway! …But soon though. Soon she wants to reveal her cute side to everyone… as well as her love of tickling and being tickled. And she feels that the best way to start revealing both of those things is to invite MK and the Dreemurr kids over to her house one at time and have tickle fights with them… starting with MK! ;)

 MK: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! *MK continued laughing and giggling as feather plumes continuously grazed his super sensitive soles, prompting him to use his own tail to try and stop the feather tickles entirely* EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!!! GAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! *squeak* HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA~!!!!!

 Seconds later, MK accidentally smacked his mother in the stomach with his tail, prompting his mother to teasingly say something to him that she tells his baby brother, Rex, on a daily basis,

 Lydia: Hey! Don’t you tail-whip me, young man! *said Lydia very teasingly* Naughty lizard! Do you need me to tickle your belly too? Because I think you do! Heeheeheeheeheehee!!

 MK: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! UM, NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO, HAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHA, THAHAHAHAHAT’S OK, HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, I’M GOOHOOHOOHOOD!!!!! *replied MK as Chara and Lydia continued tickling his feet with feathers* GAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA~!!!!!

 Lydia: No you’re not, honey. …Not until you get some belly tickles from my toesies. *teased Lydia in a singsongy voice*

 Moments later, and while continuing to tickle MK’s right foot with the burgundy feather she’s holding with her tail, Lydia lifted her right leg off of the floor and began tickling MK’s belly with all three toes on her right foot. All while balancing herself on her left leg! Unlike MK, Lydia has outstanding balance. That’s pretty impressive for someone that has no arms! :D

 MK: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!!!!!! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!! *MK laughed even more hysterically, prompting him to wrap his tail around his mother’s right leg as a means of dealing with the new ticklish sensations he was receiving* MOHOHOHOHHOHOM, NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!!!!!!! *MK pleaded* HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!! DOHOHOHOHOHOHOUHOHOHOHOON’T TIIIIIICKLE ME WITH YOHOHOHOHOHHOUR TOHOHOHOHOHOHOESIES TOO!!!!!!! *MK pleaded again as he began wiggling and squiggling adorably on the couch* FWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!!!!!! GAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA~!!!!!!!!

 Undyne: (OH NO!! Now she’s tickling his belly with her toes?!! HOLY *BLEEP* that’s SOOOOO ADOOOOOOORABLE!! Even more adorable than the feather tickles!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! Oh no, Oh no, OH NO, I-I’m, I’m about to…) *thought Undyne to herself right before sprinting upstairs to her bedroom with blazing speed to squee into one of her pillows*

 Alphys: (Heeheeheeheehee!! Oh, Undyne. Heeheeheeheeheehee!!) *thought Alphys to herself as she followed Undyne upstairs to help her recover from her most recent cute attack*

 90 seconds later…

 MK: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!!! HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA~!!!!!

 Lydia: Heeheeheeheeheehee!! Ok, my dear, I think that’s enough tickles… for now. *said Lydia to Chara* Heeheeheeheeheehee!!

 At that moment, Lydia stopped tickling MK entirely. But Chara on the other hand continued tickling MK with her rainbow feather.

 MK: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! *MK laughed and squealed as Chara continued grazing his right sole and sawing in between the three toes on his right foot with the plume of her rainbow feather* CHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHARA, WHAHAHAHAHAHAHAT ARE YOU DOOHOOHOOHOOING?!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! MY MOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOM SAID TO STOHOHOHOHOHOHOP!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!! GAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA~!!!!

 Chara: ………

 MK: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

 But Chara did not listen. Instead, she began tickling both of MK’s feet with her rainbow feather. And quite possibly due to how much she likes MK’s feet, she continued doing so for about 90 additional seconds, grazing both of his soles with the feather plume, sawing back and forth in between his toes with the feather plume, drawing on his soles with the feather quill, etc.

 90 seconds later…

 MK: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! CHAHAHAHAHAHAHARA, PLEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEASE STOHOHOHOOHOHOP TICKLING MY FEEHEEHEEHEEHEET!!!! FWEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE~!!!!

 Lydia: Mmm, yes, my dear, please stop! *demanded Lydia politely as she began tickling Chara’s neck with her tail in an attempt to get her to stop tickling MK* That’s enough tickles for the time being!

 Chara: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA! LYDIA, STOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOOP! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA! OK, OK, HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, I’M SORRY! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I’LL STOP NOHOHOHOHOW! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

 And she did too. After being tickled by Lydia, Chara released MK’s feet from her “death grip” and then hugged MK as a means of apologizing to him.

 MK: Awwwwww! It’s ok, Chara. I forgive you. No need to feel sad. *stated MK as he hugged Chara back*

 A few seconds later, Undyne and Alphys came back downstairs. And in their arms, they were carrying some of Alphys’s paintings to show to Lydia, someone that gives Alphys art lessons whenever she finds the time to do so.

 Lydia: *excited gasp* Oh my goodness, Alphys! You painted more pictures?!

 Alphys: I did, Lydia. And with help from your personal lessons and Patty’s videos, I think they look pretty decent.

 Papyrus: Ohhhhhh. That’s why you ran upstairs so quickly, Undyne. You were grabbing Alphys’s paintings for her so she could show them to MK’s mother, the art expert.

 Undyne: Um, yeah; yeah, that’s totally why I ran upstairs, Papy. I REALLY wanted Lydia to see my little lizard weeaboo’s *coughs 3 times* I-I mean, my girlfriend’s paintings. *lied Undyne* Ehehehehehehehe.

 Moments later, MK realized something out of the ordinary. His little sis wasn’t anywhere in plain sight!

 MK: Wait, wait a second; where’s my little sis?! *asked MK very worriedly as he got up off of the couch he was sitting on to try and find his little sis* Mom, did you forget to bring her with you?!

 But then, right as MK took off walking in Gaster’s direction; a gray lizard girl showed up out of nowhere and scared the crap out of him! Why, she scared him so much that she caused him to leap right into Gaster’s arms!

TO BE CONTINUED...

^^those photos are all taken by me. Use them ig you want but please credit me.

Hello people!

How was your week? I had a fairly good week, it was hectic and tiring but it was good until i caught a cold.

Monday: Monday since i didnt have to work i stayed home laminating my interactive material and when T came home from work we went to Emart. He bought me a really cute watch since i needed it for classes since i didnt want to keep checning my phone, he wanted to buy a smart watch for both of us (hahaha i sound like we can just buy those things whenever we want but no, we save up for those type of things) but i dont want one because i geniuenly dont have a need for one, anyway we bought stuff at emart and came home. I thought at the time i had avoided the cold i thought i caught on Sunday.

Tuesday: went to work, every tuesday staff reuinion at the center and then i went to my first class the 27 m/o baby, he is really cute and you can notice he is somewhat understanding what i am teaching him but he cant speak yet so its tough to tell for sure. The second class was new kid i was added and he is the type of kids that ..are difficult, the mother had forgotten the class was on tuesdays at 6:30 and my boss forgot to call her to confirm (usually teachers do that but she said since im a forgeiner she would do it) besides they gave me the families old address thankfully the new house was a street away. The boy was not having it, he did not want to have class and he was just doing whatever the fuck he wanted, most of my students are young so its normal for them to get distracted but you can tell the difference when they get natrually distracted because they include me in their distraction for examole the baby boy keeps trying to gwt mw to play ball with him, or anotherone that just telling me about pokemon but this boy did not give a fuck about me or the class he was just difficult but i was like whatever i will go through if the class and maybe its just because he's tired, so who knows but when i was going his mom gave him an orange and he just threw it on the floor and smeared it with his foot as if it was funny and his mom said nothing so ..he still seems a bit difficult.

Wednesday: t was at home for the morning but had to go to work that night so i decided to make lunch for both of us: carne asada, refired beans a co-worker who grew up in Guatemala gave me and cilantro rice i made with the left over cilantro the Pho place gave me. I went to work at 4, and when i got to my students house i noticed he had a cold and i immediately was like "uh-oh" you know how kids are (he is 3) they dont cover their nose, whipe their nose with their hands and then touch you and your stuff. After class i came home and later that night my throat started feeling weird.

Side note: my mom would always make soup and salad everyday for lunch and dinner (same thing for both meals as is common in Colombia) and without fail they had cilantro ALWAYS! So i grew up eating cilantro, but it wasnt until i moved to Korea and the first time eating mexican food with T he was like "oh no the taste of cilantro is too strong i cant eat this" and i was like "Cilantro has a taste????" Like i grew up eating that in soups and stuff, never on its own so i never recognized the taste, let alone believe it was strong, i just thought it was a must for food like salt or whattever, the only other thing i new of cilantro was that it makes you sleepy, so if there was too much on our food it was like "mom is trying to make us chill" idk if its true or its just placeboo at this point since i grew up hearing it thus believing it. So yeah, i didnt know cilantro had a taste of its own until i moved to Korea, thankfully T has learned to like it but he judges me when i add a bit too much.

Thursday: my throat was even more irritated that morning but i felt fine in general, t had the day off so i made lunch again: arroz con pollo. I went to work, T took me to my classes on his new scooter motorcycle and while he waited he went shopping. My second student on thrusdays is a bitbhard because he is all over the place distracted and skipping all the steps but its okay because at least he looks excited for the class. Then i had my last class and went out to eat dinmer with T, by this time my throat was in so much pain it hurt to talk but the rest of me felt fine, we went to Kondae to eat Makchang (i think its the large intestine of the pork) and then i bought a leather jacket more like i bought a fake leather jacket because T has been dying to see me in a leather jacket (boy shoulda seen me at 16) idk why so now he can finally stop talking about it.

Friday: my throat felt better so i thought i had avoided getting a cold, i went to the center to pick up my class materials for next week and for the new student on fridays my boss had only told me about the night before. I went back home and since T again had the day free we went to the bank to open a family account, then he took me to my class, i was nervous because i had been told the kids mom is scary but when i arrived there (a bit late since i had forgotten something and had to go back to the center) they were so nice, their appartment is amazing, its huge and has a beautiful view people say celebreties live in those buildings too which explains the amount of security in the complex which is odd for most korean apartments. The mom was so nice, the dad too and their little boy is wonderful too so idk what they wete talking about tbh. When class finished we came back home, took all my pants (all except one i recently bought) a skirt and a dress to the seamstress because they were too big on me now and the lady was like "why are they so big??" "Its hard for you to find clothes the fit well, right? (it is) since you have a butt (i dont i just store most of my fat in my thighs and hips but not the butt) but your waist is so small" then when she got to the dress she seemed troubled because it was more work than what it seemedm we paid 90 bucks which is apparently expensive? Idk how since she has to do a lot of work on my clothes, 7 items and 2 items for T. Then we came home and i started to feel sick again, when bed time came i was completely sick.

Today: sleeping was terrible, i kept choking in my sleep because i have a stuffy nose and a very swollen throat. T woke up at all hours trying to help me feel better, giving me wster and medicine, i felt so bad since he had to wake up early but there he was taking care of me at like 4 am. When he woke up for work all i remember is him telling our cat "Bean, mom is sick be nice to her today and take care of here" aside from that being cute on its own i actually think she listend to him, although bean is very sweet she has moments when she likes to bully me, trip me ovet, bite my legs or scratch my hands (only me she never does that to T even if he was the one annoying her she takes it out on me) but today she has been so sweet and calm, no yelling or demanding snacks, no bullying just love.

At one my MIL took me to the doctors, they somehow always mention the fact i got surgery on my nose for allergy reasons and say something i cant fully understand and no one can translate for me but i am starting to feel the surgery was a waist of money, my allergies are back (not as bad as before but their back) and everytime i get a cold it fucks me up so hard. Then when comming home my MIL bought me so much pastries and bread because i didnt want lunch or let her pay for my medicine.

Sometimes i look at T and feel so lucky i have a husband that is so sweet, selfless and careing but then i see his parents and im like yep that makes sense. His parents have always been so sweet and understanding, the accepted me for me get go and have always treated me like a daughter, sometimes i tease T telling him his dad loves me more than than him haha his parents helped pay for my surgery back when we had only been dating for a year (my parents couldnt afford it i mean back at home they could but Korean money is much more expensive than Colombian money) and now everytime i mention trying to pay them back they wont have it.

I also noticed i have three big bruises on my legs i have no idea where they came from. Its annoying because everytime i hurt myself and say "oh this is gonna leave a bruise" there is no bruise to be found, but then these bruises appear and its like for you to be so big and persistent shouldnt i remember what your from???

Tomorrow: T and i finally both have the same free day, but this fucking cold will probably ruin it all so who knows.

Anyways that was my week, i hope you all had a good week too!

Okay the BIG TODAY THING

It seems i might possibly be gone for six months

I've been talking with my support worker about taking a course at this place thats uhh apparantly gonna help me get better with the depressions and stuff. And we had a meeting to go look around the place and make introductions and stuff but i had NO IDEA it would be all such short notice! I might have to move in IN TWO DAYS FROM NOW, what the fuck!!! And like if its not that its gonna be at the end of the week or next tuesday at the latest. Im so fuckin unprepared and im really freakin out!!

..uhh...how to describe it..well i guess its literally a mental asylum? But it's absolutely NOTHING like the horror movie stereotype! Its not a hospital with cages or locked rooms, its just like a big comfy cute shared house. Like a bunch of completely normal small apartment rooms but they just happen to be all connected to a shared kitchen and stuff and have on site nurses and a big schedule of therapy sessions and group activities like pottery class or bowling. You have the freedom to come and go as you please if you're on "voluntarily admitted" status (that's me!) and even if you're on what they call "sectioned" its still not scary loss of all your freedom. The highest level of sectioning is just like "requires an escort"? You're still allowed to go outside but you have a higher level of supervision from your key worker because you could potentially be a danger to yourself. But that's very rare and most people are only on maximum sectioning for a few weeks at the start of their treatment, if they've come straight from a situation of self harm or other concern factors. Most of the "sectioned" patients just have a time limit on how long they can spend on unsupervised outside activity. It's a pretty generous 8 hours apparantly!

So yeah i was getting worried about nothing, thinking i was gonna be in big scary solitary confinement and locked inside a tiny broom closet or jabbed with brain lazers. It honestly just seems like a summer camp resort for adults! And everyone there seems very nice, and im excited for being able to learn life skills like cooking and potential steps towards getting educational qualifications someday. And to have the help of a more specialist support worker who can assist me with even the smallest little problems. Like this nice lady Tazmin (who might be the one i get?) was saying how they've had other people with social anxiety before, and how we could plan "gradual exposure" to all the things that scare me. Like she said she'd be able to come with me and we'd take the bus and them get off at the next stop. That'd honestly be really helpful to help me get over being scared of the crowded spaces on buses, but i'd never be able to do it normally cos i'd be too embarassed taking such a short bus ride. Plus well itd be a waste of money,but if i'm a patient here i would get a free bus pass so it wouldnt be a problem.

Oh and the area seems really nice! Its so different from my stupid house right now in a crowded neighbourhood with NOTHING but houses everywhere for a mile! Its seriously almost a mile's walk to the ONE SINGULAR SHOP IN THE AREA and they close on sundays and dont sell vegetarian food. :( This area around the shared house thingie is a really nice bustling shops place but not super shops? Like i mean its a lovely village that has all the small shops you need, not a huge skyscrapers busy tourist place. The perfect balance of conveinient and not scary! They have a library and a park so close to the place, and a bazillion charity shops holy FUCK im so excited to have charity shops again!! I think you call them thrift shops in america? But i just always really love bargain hunting and finding nice surprises in places like that! And there's places to do pottery classes and group trips sometimes to do stuff like cinema or bowling or just having your big ol scary therapy meeting at the nice coffee shop at the end ot the road.

So yeah dont worry about me guys, im not trapped in some horribke hell place! I'm sure it'll be as non threatening as an Intensive Therapy Boot Camp can possibly be, im just still nervous as hell cos well yeah I Have Social Anxiety And That Is Why I Am Here In The First Place. Im scared im not gonna be able to succeed at this. I really wanna leave at the end and be all mentally buffed up and ready to make all these nice nurses proud!

Oh and man Richard has been so nice about this?? He was super freaked out and apologetic about it being Scary Short Notice, we had a bit of a dumb misunderstanding where he clearly told me and i clearly said yes but i somehow completely misunderstood what he was saying and thought i was saying yes to something else??? So im so fuckin glad that at the very end of the appointment right when i was gonna get out the car he was like 'oh so remember your suitcase on wednesday' and i was like WHAT. Like man can you imagine how much more terrifying it would have been if i just turned up on wednesday with no supplies but the shirt off my back and was like 'wtf where is he driving me OH GOD NO'. Bunni why you so bad at the good of talking!! Seriously richard thanks so much for clearing it up but also AAAAA i accidentally agreed to the shortest of short notice and i dont know if he's gonna be able to reschedule it!!!

And man i was there crying in his car about how i dont wanna be in hospital on my birthday, and babbling all the different things i had planned fot the next few months. And GOD DAMN MY DUMB BRAIN i ended up blurting out that i had a preorder of a videogame that i was gonna miss. And i straight up started explaining pokemon to my mental health counseller who is also a dj, how damn fake does my life sound?? Anyway he said that i'll still be able to keep him as my support worker when i get back out of this, and we'll still have weekly or monthly meetings while i'm in there. And he keeps reminding me that i'm free to leave if i feel uncomfortable, but i know that i'd feel like a failure if i did! So he legit fuckin goddamn said (THIS SOUNDS SO FAKE) that i could take a day off when the dumb game comes out, and he'd play co op pokemon with me. HOLY GEEZUS RICHARD YOU'RE LIKE THAT HOLY GRAIL OF THERAPISTS! And man he even said it wasnt embarassing for me to sleep with a teddy bear and he'd help me pack it up safe and ensure nobody saw it while we move my bags into my new room. And then i was like "uhh but also the teddy bear is a giant lifesize embarassing pokemon merchandise" and he was like "okay so we need DOUBLE STEALTH". Apparantly the new sequel to Pokemon Go is Pokemon Sneak! God he helped calm me down from this freakout so much, he's always great with lil jokes and motivational sayings. And i talked about how i first started being interested in Obscure Deep Sea Slug Facts because pokemon has some characters based on weird real life animals, and like its Very Educational Honest, And Has Appeal For Both Kids And Adults. How on earth did this turn into Motovational Pokemon Blabber Time??? Anyway thats how i ended up texting a professional psychologist pictures of gastrodon at 7.30pm.

SO

Yeah

In summary

I'm mostly just worried cos this is short notice! And cos its such a big commitment that being short notice is Super Bad. I need to friggin clean the whole house top to bottom in two days, so it doesnt get all gross and attract flies while im gone. And i need to toss out like a hundred bucks worth of frozen food that aint gonna keep for 6 months. And i need to wash all my damn clothes. And i dont even have a suitcase and this is at a terrible time where i dont get paid for a week so i cant buy a new one right now!! And damn i DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT TO TAKE AAAAAA

And the BIGGEST PROBLEM

Is that i wont be able to talk to you guys for half a year!!!

They dont have wifi and im not allowed to take my computer anyway. They only allow laptops and all i have is a desktop and AAAA its too short notice to save up enough to get a laptop mannnnn! Fuck man i didnt even think about that, i need to go pause my broadband internet for six months, do they even allow you to come back after that long?? And man part of me wants to ask to borrow money from friends to get a laptop but i know this time i cant promise to pay you back within the month cos AAAGH ALL OF THIS SHIT!! Like damn man if anyone is willing to let me pay back a hundred and fifty quid in 6 months??not bloody likely!! And man the only place to get a laptop in TWO GODDAMN DAYS is stupid fuckin Amazon :( but god im gonna go stir crazy being unable to do art or gamemaking or friggin anything to occupy myself!! I can bring my 3ds but i barely have any games for it and ive already finished all of them except harvest moon a new beginning which i quit cos it was bad. And the screen is broken anyway gahhh. SO MANY THINGS I NEED MONEY FOR IN SUCH A SHORT AMOUNT OF TIME THAT IS NON CONDUCTIVE TO MONEYING

So anyway GAHH i wont have an internet connection in the house, and i'll be able to walk down the hill and use the library computers hopefully at least weekly, but they forbid all social media sites. So like can i get the emails of everyone who wants to keep in contact? Man i dont know how im gonna manage this AAAAA!!! i will send u loads of pics of scenic asylum beauty and dumb updates on my stupid life of probably very little progress.

And AGGGHHH i dont even have the time to plan a blog queue or anything fuck man geez aaaaaaaa

I NEED TO BUY A NEW PAIR OF TROUSERS WITHOUT HOLES IN THE KNEES man i cant live on singular pantage in a shared house

So. Sunday. Pokémon Community Day. Specifically, Beldum day.

Under cut for length and also triggers. Trigger warnings for health junk, mentions of hospitals and mentions of death, self harm, and suicide (none of which have happened but are relevant). Plus vague mentions of Dad’s general bigotry.

I gave Dad a heads up for it. On Tuesday/Wednesday (I can’t remember which), and then again on Friday. And on Friday, he even asked questions about it, so it wasn’t in one ear and out the other.

Friday night, I found out Dad had been planning to go up to the cabin with Mom. He never mentioned this to me. Apparently Mom thought he planned to go up Monday, but he had decided they were going up Sunday instead. And Mom expressed concern, which he got mad at her over. Because he hasn’t been up to the cabin since like February and it needs to be winterized or something, but clearly he has to be involved.

For those who don’t know/have forgotten, Dad’s not in the best shape. Last December he went out to LA for a surgery because he had a partially paralyzed diaphragm that was severely impacting his breathing, had rotator cuff surgery in late June, basically a heart attack in mid/late July (at which point we discovered he’s got a clot in a major artery, right over where he had a triple stint placed a decade ago for a 98% blockage), and THEN recently had a double catheter operation to try to loosen the clot.

It didn’t work. At all. So he’ll soon be going in for single-vessel bypass. Long story short, he has been warned several times that he probably should not be going up to altitude, much less doing any sort of physical work at altitude.

Which is why Mom wanted to make the cabin trip a one-day thing on Monday. But Dad got mad about her being worried about his health and firmly decided they were going Sunday.

That night, as I struggled to sleep, I realized that Dad would want to leave well before Community Day started, depriving Mom of it (because there was no way I was going up to the cabin with them). I swear that Dad comes up with something every. Single. Community Day.

Scratch that. Whenever we have plans that involve something that would make my day, Dad comes up with some bs that, even if I do get to do the thing, I end up feeling guilty about doing it.

But I mentioned it (angrily) to Mom, and she reminded Dad, and he ended up saying that they would go after our event ended. Which should have been fine, because he was still getting an extra night up there.

Meanwhile, Mom and I secretly make plans of what to do in case an emergency comes up with Dad going to altitude. Namely, to save time for her, she’d send me a text with an emoji so I would know they were going to the hospital and I should alert my sisters and drive up.

There’s some other stuff that happened on Saturday, namely relating to Dad not doing basic things like alerting Mom when she needed to come in (she asked him to tell her after ten minutes of working outside so that she could make dinner, but then didn’t, and she was too engaged in cleaning up leaves and I didn’t want to deal with grouchy, hungry Dad, so I cooked instead despite being completely drained and distracted) and Mom being too stubborn to take care of herself (woman is developing scoliosis and, despite me asking her to tell me when she was going outside to do more leaves after dinner so I could help her, she spends another hour and a half doing it by herself because she doesn’t want to distract me from my costuming, and only gives up because I come out to help her without shoes or gardening gloves because it’s getting dark and she’s hurting herself). But anyways, Sunday.

We’re gonna go get MDs ice cream beforehand (for Pokémon toys), we’ll meet up with Erin, we’ll all catch some Beldum...it will be great, right? We agree to take two cars because we know Dad will probably get antsy and call wanting to leave, so that I can stay and finish up withe Erin but she’ll get in at least half of the Community Day.

Except, as we are leaving...Dad asks when it’s over, then says he might take the very old truck, leave early, and meet her at the cabin.

He has not driven since mid-June, and is arguably still behind on his recovery. It’s a 2.5 hour drive-1.5 for him because he’s reckless-on curvy, winding mountain roads with steep drops and blind turns. It is, again, going up to altitude, which he has been warned against. Also the truck is nearly as old as I am and probably a little stiff with steering.

Mom and I try to subtly point these things out, but he’s not having it. When Mom gets more blunt about it being dangerous, he gets upset with her. We leave.

At this point we’re already running late in my plan. I don’t realistically see us getting through MDs, at lunch hour, before the event starts (but I don’t have the confidence to go alone, and was going to feel weird asking Erin). I have to go get gas because my gas light is on. I tell Mom to meet me there, and we decide she’ll stay for an hour and then go back, hopefully before Dad can leave.

And the whole time I’m getting gas, I’m fuming. That’s when I made that post, because I was in tears because Dad always gets in the way of my plans. Always. You’ve all seen enough posts of me getting emotional because we had plans that I spend a week getting ready for, and Dad throws a wrench in them at the last minute. Even the ones that include him (like the time I wanted to go to the science museum with him this time last year to see cool dinosaurs).

Because here’s the thing for me: I’m...passively suicidal. I don’t know what the technical term is, but I’m learning to explain it to people like Mom and my psychiatrist. Basically I would love to die, but it’s currently not an option because people need me and it would be detrimental to things. So I’m not acting on it, or on my desire to self-harm, but I have to constantly sit with that feeling. And it’s scary to explain because I can’t emphasize enough that I am not a threat to myself, and do not need to go to the hospital (which for me would only make it worse), but I have to continue with everyday life with that feeling constantly eating at me.

So every day, often several times a day, I’m actively making the choice not to die, or relapse, or do anything that would put me in the hospital, for the sake of not putting more stress on everyone else. Currently, with Mom out of town half the week, Dad needs me to drive him places like pt and the store (which, again, is a place that makes me depersonalize and sets off anxiety attacks, but for him is an outing so he takes his sweet time), so me not acting on those intrusive thoughts and impulses directly affects his life.

And here he is, ready to put himself in severe danger on multiple levels and quite possibly die...because he can’t wait three hours for Mom and I to go catch Pokémon.

I drive him places while actively disassociating, put up with his bigoted rants and opinions that directly contradict my own (it’s not worth saying anything), walk on eggshells to not annoy him or risk him snapping at me, am currently arranging most of my schedule to revolve around his needs, and don’t try to hurt or kill myself...

...and he can’t extend me the courtesy of letting me enjoy myself for a few hours without feeling guilty or anxious that something bad is going to happen.

Community Day ended up working out; I caught 10 shiny Beldum, did two raids with Erin (wherein she got her Mewtwo finally, which made me so happy after getting invited to a million EX raids and she only getting invited to one that she had to skip, so I was happy for her), and then we got Pokémon toys after (the two I wanted most, even). But I had to take anxiety meds the moment I got to the art center, fumed quite a bit an nearly lost my temper with Mom at one point (she was parked in a different area and said she was coming over, but then joined a raid and didn’t tell me, so I got worried after ten minutes passed and she wasn’t with me), and really couldn’t relax an enjoy myself until I got a text from her saying that they were headed up together. Dad even drove, apparently. But imagine how much better it could have been if I hadn’t had to deal with any of that?

Imagine me actually getting a day to be happy and enjoy myself and go through with my plans without worrying about Dad’s...everything? Even the day Erin and I saw Fallen Kingdom was spoiled slightly by me worrying about what time Dad would get out of the hospital, because I decided it was Pride Month and I was wearing my rainbow dinosaur shirt to the movie but needed to know if I would have to change before going home (spoiler: he had to stay another night and all the worrying was for nothing).

I just...I want to be able to be happy and take care of myself and Dad serves as one of the larger roadblocks.

And on Sunday I was done with him.

Imaginary San Diego Comic Con 2018

On Monday, we go to the airport in the middle of the afternoon, as most international flights leave at night. So, it's rush hour traffic for close to an hour to get to the airport. We get there three hours before the flight. We don't like to take chances. We already lost a flight at LAX back to Brazil (or Houston or Dallas or Panama, I don't remember where the first layover was). We almost lost our flight to Angola, and had to carry our baggage with us inside the plane because check-in was already closed for twenty minutes. We eat some crappy airport food, because it's going to be around midnight by the time the flight attendants bring dinner to the passengers, and by that time we'll be starving even if we did eat at the airport, and the airport food will be as crappy as the one we had close to the gate. We always bring something to read on the plane, and we might read a little of it, but inevitably we'll choose a movie, preferably a movie both of us have not seen (usually a super hero movie), and watch it while we eat the plane dinner. After the movie, we'll try to get some sleep, but if we struggle to find our way to slumberland, we'll choose another movie. Sometimes we can finish this second movie after we wake up at the crack of dawn when the flight attendants serve breakfast. And then we land on Houston. Usually Houston, anyway. There are no straight flights from Brazil to San Diego, and we usually get better deals on our tickets going through Houston. We usually meet other brazilians on the same flight, also going to Comic Con. Once we met all of Jeff Smith's Cartoon Books crew coming from Columbus, meeting up with Terry Moore's Abstract Studio's crew on the gate so they could all go to San Diego together (Jeff and Terry weren't there, it was just their entourages). We arrive in San Diego before lunch, sometimes just after regular breakfast hours in California, and we go to our hotel. We could easily have a second breakfast, but we try to remind ourselves we're not Hobbits. It's Tuesday on the A.M, and we check in at the hotel. Now what? --- Tuesday is our free-pre-con-day, so we can take it easy and recover from the jet lag. With the four hour difference from São Paulo time, it's very easy to get up early in the morning while in San Diego, even with little sleep the night before, but we need this first day to be low key because our trip is long and before 10 pm on Tuesday we're already dead tired. We usually meet some friends for an early dinner (we're not the only international artists that arrive one day early to recover from jet lag, so there's always someone about, and our friends who work at many of the publishers arrive earlier to set up the publisher's booth on Mondays and Tuesdays), have some drinks at the hotel bar and crash at the room early. Wednesday is when our job begins. Before Comic Con became this crazy giant thing, we did all sorts of different things on Tuesdays. For some years, staying at the Hostel, we would hang around with foreigners from all over the world who came to San Diego because of the beaches and the weather. We would have to explain to them that we were there for this comic book convention that happened around the corner (the Hostel is right there on Fifth Avenue at the Gaslamp District), and the ones we managed to leave curious would say over the course of that week that one day they decided to try out that Comic Con thing, went there and bought tickets right then and there and got in. They had fun. We, too, went to the beach some years on Tuesdays. When we started going, Shane (Amaya, who wrote Roland and lived in Santa Barbara at the time and would drive down to San Diego) would drive us to the nice beaches and we would admire giant American biquinis and think about Brazilian biquinis instead. Back then, we would go back to that part of town even at night, after our Comic Con days, to try our luck on Pacific Beach bars, karaoke and pool included. Once, I don't know how, we ended up on a rooftop party of some local indy cartoonists. All that, and it was only Tuesday. --- You can read here the announcement of the Hellboy Winter Special 2018. We're back at Mike Mignola's backyard for a little while, writing and drawing a short story revisiting the B.P.R.D Vampire world (don't know B.P.R.D Vampire? It well be reprinted soon). Mignola did a knock-out cover for this issue, and we both did variant covers. With two other stories in this comic (one by the uber-talented Tonci Zonjic), it should be a fun read. Maybe a little scary, but fun.

---

We don't want to wake up too early on Wednesday, but the jet lag is still on full swing so we can't help it. Bá will probably hit the gym, and I'll try to join him (at least this early in the week). We have a quiet breakfast, probably our only meal for the rest of the week which isn't also some sort of meeting. I'm probably finishing a drawing I'm going to hide later as part of my Moon Art Hunt game. I'll consider going to the hotel pool for a swim (I prefer the Hyatt when it comes to a suitable pool for swimming). At lunch, we'll probably have our first meet-up, usually with our brazilians friends. This year, we would go meet Rafael Albuquerque, who's a guest of the convention and has just released a beautiful adaptation of Neil Gaiman's A Study in Emerald (with Rafael Scavone and Dave Stewart). A talented Brazilian artist going to San Diego for the first time this year is Eduardo Medeiros. It will be good for him (and for the comics' world) to widen his horizons and experience a little bit of the craziness of SDCC. This will be a long lunch, with drinks, that will last as long as it takes for the line of people waiting to get their badges to get smaller (the Brazilian posse won't mind spending an afternoon drinking). Then we'll go get our badges so we can get in for a light, commitment-free preview night. If there's some book I really want and made a mental note to track down during SDCC, I try to find it on Wednesday, because I might forget during the week, and if I don't, by the time I go back there it might have already be sold out . Last year, I stopped at the beginning of the con at the Fantagraphics booth and got some books they had published, and forgot to get the new Jason book. I went back on Sunday, and it was all gone. Saying hi to Terry Moore and Jeff Smith is usually part of our preview night. Wednesday is still preview night, so it isn't so crazy to find places to have dinner. We usually choose as we walk around the Gaslamp, depending on who we're meeting for dinner. Still, it's a relaxing dinner with friends. The calm before the storm. --- From Thursday on, the con game is on. After a breakfast meeting with one of our publishers, we usually have a signing. If we don't, it's my first chance to hide a drawing and start posting pictures online and giving people clues so they can find it. Lunch is also a meeting, probably with a foreign publisher. Our foreigner publishers from France (Urban Comics) and Italy (Bao) usually go to San Diego. In fact, we met both of them in San Diego years ago, before they were our publishers, and now, besides being our publishers, I think of them as friends. Signings await in the afternoon, and we also usually stop at the Comic Book Legal Defence Fund (CBLDF) booth to leave the original art we brought for the art auction on Saturday. Their booth is near the DC comics booth, on the way to the Drawn & Quarterly booth. Alex Cox will probably have a lot to say about their relocation to Portland, and if he doesn't, I'll simply ask. I'm curious. We leave the artwork  personally on the first day because we are not mailing it from Brazil in advance, and because we know they'll display all the artwork they got on Thursday night at the party so people can get a good look of what is available and get excited about the auction. Thursday night, the rooftop CBLDF Welcome Party at the Westgate Hotel is the party to go. It's traditional, and in this modern day of Entertainment World takeover, it's your better chance to hang out with the cartoonists you know and/or admire. And to meet new ones. It was at a CBLDF party that Bá and I saw Neil Gaiman for the first time, relaxing in a hallway before he had to go back inside to read something for everyone to enjoy. It was at a CBLDF party that we hung out next to Frank Miller in an outside balcony while he smoked a cigarette and talked passionately about comics, standing tall in his red Converse sneakers. This party has always been about the shared love for comics, and about the people who love them: the fans and the creators, interacting together and having a good time. Maybe we'll have energy to go to a second party, probably with Sierra, and probably at the Bayfront. The Boom Studios crew have good parties at the Bayfront bar. If all goes right, the night might end in pizza in the lobby. (the Bayfront bar has a brazilian bartender who makes some great caipirinhas) Friday begins with another breakfast meeting. Maybe with someone from Vertigo/DC to talk about the Absolute edition of Daytripper and decide what sort of extra material would be fun to put in this oversided deluxe edition. Maybe to talk about something else. (See, the same way I forgot to mention that every morning before breakfast, we'll try to go to the hotel gym, in real life we'll also probably forget to go to the hotel gym before breakfast) After the Hall-H celebration of Dr. Horrible's Sing Along Reunion (which I'm not going, as I have never been to Hall-H in my life), I would probably stop at the Dark Horse booth at 12pm to get some of the posters they'll give away, because I think they turned out pretty nice (hint: I did the artwork). During the week, we usually have a signing at the Dark Horse booth, next to a panel or announcement we're involved. After the panel, Dark Horse normally sets up interviews from media outlets. Lunch meeting, but all day on Friday we're thinking about the Eisner Awards later that night at the Bayfront Ballroom. I hide another drawing across town, and we're thinking about the Eisners. I meet some friends for drinks around six and I try not to think about the Eisners. If these friends happen to be Skottie Young or Jason Latour, their jokes alone will keep me busy laughing and I'll forget everything. I'm still going to the Eisners afterwards. Mainly because of the Umbrella Academy Netflix show, Bá got an invitation for the Universal party. The Umbrella crew is still shooting in Toronto, so I don't think we'll be able to make it this year. We arrive at the Bayfront, where they're presenting the Eisners. Every awards ceremony is boring, I know. Still, we like the Eisners. We like to see people get happy about how other people love what they do enough to vote for them. We like the celebratory aspect of it. We miss that the ceremony doesn't have a keynote speech anymore, or a keynote speaker. We heard some earth-shattering-life-changing speeches at previous Eisner awards that motivated us, and still do, to try harder, and do more, and to do it better. There's some drinking after the awards are all delivered at the Bayfront, and then we'll probably head back to the Hyatt bar and catch up with our gang of idiots. The convention night scene is definitely more spread out nowadays, to all sorts of places and hotels and bars, but there are a bunch of us comics' folk who still hang out the the Hyatt bar. There's a panel on Saturday I can't help but think we would be in if we were there. We're usually invited to those kind of Dark Horse panels. Here's the description:

3:00-4:00 PM:  Artists Who Write: The Craft and Creation of Comics (Room: 7AB)

Whether it's a superhero adventure, a colorful fantasy world, an ultra-violent crime noir, or a new take on an old classic, creators put a lot of thought into the sequential art that drives stories told in comics. Join an all-star lineup of Dark Horse creators including Frank Miller (Xerxes: The Fall of the House of Darius and the Rise of Alexander, Sin City), Dave Gibbons (The Originals, The Life and Times of Martha Washington in the Twenty-First Century), Joëlle Jones (Lady Killer), Wendy Pini (ElfQuest), and Rafael Albuquerque (EI8HT) as they discuss turning an idea into a full-fledged story and how they continue to keep their writing fresh.

I would be interested to be there just to listen to Frank Miller and Dave Gibbons talk, but Albuquerque and Joëlle are so talented that it's no surprise they've reached the success they have, and I also want to hear they talk about how they got there. Saturday is the big hollywood day. It's crazy. It's fuller. We usually hide in the green room for lunch.  If I haven't run into Joss Whedon up until this point at a hotel bar (I like that he started going to Comic Con again after two giant Avenger movies), then on Saturday he's easier to bump into, relaxing and having a good time. We stop by Mike Mignola's booth to make sure we say goodbye to him, as he doesn't do Sundays anymore. Close by, we might try to walk around artists' alley for a bit, but nothing sticks out. A lot of crazy talented creators with original art, prints and commission lists. People who sells books usually have booths on the other side of the convention floor, where we used to have our booth, and we have always been book people. We make comics so people can read them. For the past few years, we have tried to have at least one signing at the CBLDF booth as well, where they have a great selection of our work from all publishers we work with. You'll find there (signed) copies of Daytripper, Casanova, Umbrella Academy, Two Brothers, How to Talk To Girls at Parties (with a special signed bookplate) and much more. At the end of the day, the CBLDF live art auction will take place at the Bayfront, on the Sapphire AB room, starting at 8 PM, where you'll be able to bid for some amazing original art from your favourite creator. There are some pretty neat Frank Miller, Jeff Smith and Howard Chaikin originals being offered, among many other incredible pieces of art. The night is full of wonders. We have a much better time at dinner, usually catching up with old friends. For the past few years, this has been editor's dinner for us, so to speak. Bob Schreck, Diana Schutz, Karen Berger, Sierra Hahn, Pornsak Pichetshote, all great editors, dear friends, and during the craziness of Comic Con, we catch up with them, and they catch up with us, and we start our night just right. We met some great cartoonists while on those dinners, which always involved big tables and lots of people. I'm pretty sure I met Scott Morse and Jim Mahfood in one of those dinners with Bob. I met Eduardo Barreto in a dinner with Diana (actually, Eduardo Barreto comes from Uruguay, and was the very first "international" comic book artist I met when he went to São Paulo for a book fair to promote his Batman book, and I was around 13). I met Jeff Lemire in a dinner with Karen. I met John Cassaday in a dinner with Sierra.

Saturday is the night that never ends, no matter if California law says otherwise, and we all meet up at some point after the Hyatt bar closes. The backsteps crew doesn't disappoint. (Will Dennis always has our backs, fellas). One of the recent topics I ask my friends is when are they coming to Brazil, as the Brazilian convention, Comic Con Experience (CCXP), as well as the Brazilian audience, would welcome them with open arms (I'm trying to convince myself the reason I didn't get Skottie Young to come last year was because, on a very energetic Saturday night, I didn't agree to go have matching tattoos made the following Sunday – he got an amazing Alfred Newman). The spotlight panel on Rafael Albuquerque is at 10 AM (room 24 ABC) on Sunday morning. We'll need breakfast before going to the panel. I'm not sure Albuquerque will wake up in time to get anything to eat, but at least he's a special guest of the convention and there will be people who will go to his hotel room and make sure he attends his own panel. (the convention organisers have a volunteer who speaks Portuguese, who took care of me when I was a guest in 2009. He was taking care of Eduardo Risso last year. I bet he'll take care of Albuquerque).    ​Our last stop of the Con is the Dead Dog Party, organised by Bob Chapman and the Grapphitti Design crew. Every friend we didn't have a chance to talk to during the convention will stop by, have a few drinks, have a few laughs. Things start to die out earlier on Sunday, like the magic pixie dust starting to wear off. The Hyatt bar is still open, and some other friends are there. It might close soon, tho, and so we'll cross the street and stop by the Lion's Share. When will we ever go to sleep? Probably on the flight back home, the next day, and for the entire following week. --- Maybe now it's a good time to say Bá and I didn’t go to San Diego this year. We have been going since 1997 every year. We didn't go in 2013 to focus on work (making Two Brothers, specifically), and I went alone in 2014 (Bá was still drawing Two Brothers) to negotiate which publisher would publish the book in the US. Aside from that, we've been there every year. It's our safe port in the american market, where we know our way around, where we see our friends. This is one of those years where we decided to focus on work. And, like those years, we did miss San Diego greatly throughout the week. I recommend the experience. I still think it's a special show. You don't have to go 20 times. But do it at least once.