#in a just world my coworkers would respond to careful itemized lists of all their fuckups with 'thank you Alexis you're so helpful
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What is a Monday? A miserable little pile of obligations.
semester turnover restructure
generate/send out error reporting
figure out how to separate out unique counts
create polite reply to Massive Dick Move email
finish the bad book >:(
bò kho (not an obligation. dinner)
laundry
lizard bath
#yapping tag#I spent my weekend trying to sleep and now all my chores are due today and I wanna complain. grump grump grump whine.#the semester turnover restructure actually is a pet project so that part I like! I wish I could take my time with it though#the error reporting is. well it's easy to generate (it's actually running now) and it's tedious but uncomplicated to send out#but then I'm going to spend the rest of the day getting passive-aggressive responses from everybody#in a just world my coworkers would respond to careful itemized lists of all their fuckups with 'thank you Alexis you're so helpful#we really appreciate you flagging our mistakes two weeks before the system final-saves them forever into stone. have a cookie!'#but alas#if I'd been any less stressed and frantic when I first established the error reporting I'd have set up a separate address to send them from#write up some template emails and let the reporting all come out of the mythical 'automatic system thing'#--every 'automatic system thing' in our college is me or IT on my behalf. even the people who hired me for this don't seem to realize#if only I'd known from the beginning that nobody would ever connect me and my systems! I'd be exploiting the shit out of it--#the unique counts is going to be a headache. no idea how I'm going to structure the coding for it. might be fun to invent? we'll see#the Massive Dick Move email response also will be an invention. 'hello Mr Massive Dick I am karma here to smite you' but polite#the bad book >:( I don't want to read any more of but the deal I made with my friend is he sends me free books and I report back#we did not discuss a special 'get out of book free' card for when the main character is a godawful shit sibling. (should've done though)#beef stew is good! mostly it's on the list so I don't forget to set the timers#laundry and lizard bath can wait until tomorrow if they must but they shouldn't wait any longer than that. lizard and I will get stinky
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M!Hunting Dogs x Reader
Scenario- Nightclub Meeting!
Warnings: NSFW!
Contains: M!receiving head, pussy grinding, dry humping, intoxicated, teasing, pet names, strangers
Reader:Female!
Characters: Tachihara, Jouno, Tetchou
Tachihara~
Being negligent was the theme of tonight. You made the decision to visit the neighborhood nightclub with a few of your friends. The only items on your to-do list were to drink, party, smile, and perhaps bring a stunning guy home. Sincerity be damned, you were feeling a little starved for touch and somewhat irresponsible.
At the same nightclub, Tachihara was present. He had barely begun to sip his beverage. He had accompanied his colleagues out. It was definitely a touch crowded as his eyes darted to a few of the other people who were out having fun tonight. He sips his brandy again.
"Hunting for a hot girl?" Tachihara heard a voice in his ear.
He slightly jumped in his chair. He responded to his coworker, Jono, with a shallow breath, "No, it's just crowded tonight."
"What did you expect, given that it is a Saturday night?" inquired Tetcho.
Tachihara tried to speak, but his jaw remained agape. The cause was a breathtakingly beautiful girl who was dancing and flipping her hair around. You are that girl.
Tachihara suddenly slid the beverage to Tetcho while wiping his mouth.
"I believe he found what he was seeking for," remarks Jono with a grin. Of course, he is taunting.
"Huh?" Tetcho's eyes furrowed in confusion.
A couple shots had already entered your body. While dancing with your buddies, you could definitely feel the warm buzz even if you weren't fully intoxicated.
“Guys~ Look…” One of your friends pointed to a guy across the dance floor. You follow her gaze and shrug.
“He’s so hoooot!” Your friend didn’t even waste time hearing your guys response to your opinion on the guy. She stumbled her drunk ass over to him.
Your other friends shake their heads in response to her irresponsibility. Without a care in the world, you go back to letting the music and alcohol take over your body.
“Hey, Y/N…” A friend tapped your shoulder with a bright smile. “I’m going to get us some more shots, cool?”
You smile at her and swing your hips. Although you wanted to respond to her vocally, you were enjoying the sensation of your hips swaying too much.
You noticed something, or perhaps it was someone, as she was walking away.
An attractive ginger was moving through the throng. And for a split second, you two looked at one other. Your chest experienced a different warm sensation as a result. You use your head to extend an invitation to him while chewing your lower lip.
He was already coming your way, which is fortunate for you. The male halted in front of you and said, "Hey there," while quietly grinning.
"Hi~" You take his hand while cocking your head to the side.
"Hi, my name is Tachihara. You?" Although he made an effort to talk in a quiet, calm voice, the man with copper hair was forced to speak over extremely loud music.
You placed your palm firmly on his chest and encouraged him to go along with you. However, you respond to him afterwards.
“I’m y/n.” You flash him your teeth a bit.
“Y/n..” The taller man smiles and murmurs your name beneath his breath. Then he begins to groove with you, letting his hand slowly go down to your hips. Your spine started to tingle with electricity. You chuckle a little as you lick the top of your teeth.
“Do you wanna dance with me?” You politely ask the male in front of you.You were gawking at the male's physique, from all over and end to his eyes.
The man introduced as Tachihara grinned broadly and began to sway with you a little. "I would love to dance with you, y/n" he remarked.
"You really like to say my name, huh?" As you tenderly grasp his hand in yours, you inquire.
Tachihara swallows and flushes. "Are you opposed my name?" He queries.
Soon after, you decide to torment him by getting really close to him. You stand on your tiptoes and sound nearly breathless as you murmur his name into his ear. His ears burn, and a searing red glow shoots across his face.
His member jerked a little under his slacks at your mocking. He stops you from moving away and offers your waist a slight squeeze. It's not like you intended to go; instead, you remained close and settled next to a new acquaintance. You were breathing somewhat heavily as you swayed your hips and felt the slight pressure coming from the other.
As you moved your hips, Tachihara expressed a very low grunt of affection. The lump in his throat is swallowed down.
Tachihara asserts, "C-Can you turn around?" in a cooing tone.
You comply with his request while grinning enthusiastically. While he was still holding onto your hips, you turned on your heels. As he swayed his hips with yours, one hand gently descended and stroked your thigh. Your ass had been pressed by his bulge.
As you balance yourself by resting a hand on his wrist, a shiver of pleasure escapes from your chest. He simultaneously shivered.
You were warm and fuzzy as you rocked your hips against his while still appearing to be dancing with him. This seems normal to you, but it also seems a little crude, which makes you curious about the possibility of getting caught.
Tachihara pulled on your hips and bucked into you as he let out another whine of delight. You clenched your grip on his forearm, letting out a small gasp of surprise and desire. As it got hotter and wetter, a tingling crept into your cunt.
He dragged his hand back up, using his fingers to lightly brush against your clothing while still giving you just a taste of pleasure at your cunt.
Your fingertips pushed into Tachihara's flesh, causing you to stutter and utter a brief expletive, "f-fuck," as you muttered it under your breath.
Tachihara whispered into your ear as he leaned in close. "What a filthy mouth.~"
The hand that was laying down and fiddling with your thigh traced a trail that went back up. As it made its way under your shirt, his fingertips pressed onto your skin. Suddenly feeling a breeze on your abdomen, you shuddered a little, but it swiftly vanished and was replaced by the warmth of his palm.
Tachihara didn't stop and trembled after that. Your shirt now hung higher on your torso due to the upward movement of his hand.
"T-Tachihara...~" Whimpering, you seem to catch the glimpse of two eyes on you. "We...should go someplace more priv-"
Tachihara had grabbed one of your breasts and had softly messaged it to cut you off from speaking.
"T-Tachi...h-hara~" Once more, you moan his name.
The ginger continued to ride his covered length against your body, his motions becoming a little more urgent. Tachihara attempted to bite back groans, but instead managed to score the inside of his lip.
You couldn't bite back the groans due to the sensation in your breast, hips, and rear too.
"Mmmh~...ah~"
Tachihara moved the hand off your hips, slipping them down into your pants and underwear as he grinned at your whines.
"H-Hold on, we should," His finger tips touching your clit, once more made you pause. "Ha!~"
"There isn't an isolated spot here because the space is packed to the rafters with people," Tachihara came forward and whispered in your ear.
You shuddered pitifully at his words and slightly squeezed your thighs around his hand.
As soon as he touched you, you began to sweat and murmur, and his fingertips started to make little circles on your clit.
"Can't believe you're so wet. Over a stranger like me, y/n?" he coos.
"Mmm... ha," As you close your eyes, more pathetic noises come from your chest. You were hoping no one had a fuss when they saw you two and alerted security.
Tachihara bites down on your jawline after noticing that you had your eyes shut. You jerked your head back, drool gathering in the mouth corner.
"Ah!~" You cry.
You can hear the redhead's slender groans of delight when he is close to your ear. His hips are thrusting at your clothed ass harder and quicker.
His finger descended till it came to rest at the entrance to your needy, dripping cunt. letting your hot breath produce some well-deserved moans. Tachihara didn't waste any time in inserting his fingers.
"Ah!~ Ngh~... ahhh," Your groans became too loud for you to suppress. It began rough and a bit uncomfortable as his digits moved in and out. But before long, you were drawn into a realm of exhilarating feelings.
Tachihara's member sprang violently beneath his briefs, driving even harder against you. He pulls your hips into him with another quick inhale, which causes a flood of ecstasy to wash over him.
As he leaves a path of kisses on your neck, Tachihara murmurs, "Ngh."
He raised his hand again to cup your breast. Giving your nipple a slight pinch, causing you to drool out of the side of your mouth.
Your high was about to arrive as his fingers dug deep within you and his member furiously rocked against your ass.
"T-Ta... ah chi~." You squeak out a whimper hardly at all.
He almost came when he heard his name being desperately sobbed out. He took a deep breath and again sank his teeth into your lower jaw. Gaining another delighted sigh from you.
While inside you, Tachihara proceeded to spread his fingers.
"A-ah!~ Tachihara, I'm gonna...g-gonna to cum." As you reach behind you and firmly seize his forearm, you gasp.
Tachihara pushed his fingers even further than before, as if something within him had been triggered.
Your eyes immediately open as you knock your head backwards.That was the necessary final straw before you coated all of his digits with your climax.
After you came, Tachihara gave a few more thrusts before releasing his white ropes into his underwear.
You two slouched together as you pant for air. Against his, your body trembles.
You guys came down from your high in only a matter of seconds. Tachihara removes his hand timidly from your pants.
You adjust your attire as he does this to make it appear as though no one has attempted to take it off. Your lips begin to form an embarrassed smile.
"So...um...Do you want to get coffee tomorrow? Talk..." Tachihara was cut off.
"Yes...sorry. I just want to see you again," you blush.
Afterwards, you exchange numbers. Tachihara gives a small wave to you as the both of you separate back to your friends.
Jouno~
"Get going, yn! It's a club," your companion chuckled. "Drink! Party for fucks sake!"
You take a sip from your glass while rolling your eyes. "Bitch, how drunk are you, I've already had a little to drink," They shake their head and click their tongue. "No. I want to smash you up with me." They moan.
"Okay, if you won't join me in getting wasted. You ought to be on the lookout for a cute guy." They nudge you while undoubtedly having someone in their sights.
You inquire, tilting your head to the side to try to follow their look, "Do you have an eye on someone?"
"Maaaybe. Here. Speak with his friend." They spoke too soon in return.
"Which two friends are you looking at, please provide context." You make an effort to ignore the masses of individuals that she might have been glancing at.
Your gaze focused on luxurious, opaque white hair, with ruby tips.
Thump!
Your heart began to race as a warm blush raced across your cheeks.
Your friend noticed right away. "Oh, I hope you're not staring at the brunette. I made a declaration. That you're helping me."
But you were too preoccupied with the man with the white hair. Across the nightclub, he was captivating to take in. He was seated next to an expected brunette.
Your attention had been drawn to the man yelling at the brunette, and you could see the disgust on his face.
"Oh my god, Y/n!" For a brief moment, your friend appeared almost sober. "I don't believe I have ever seen you this smitten by a guy," the friend said.
"White with red tips..." Your cheeks became even more red. "Warm skin, shouting at the brunette," you added.
Your friend clapped you on the back heartily. "Oh! Yes! The brunette I was referring to is the one. We must certainly go there now." They rob you of your hand.
You were startled out of your daydream. "N-No..! "Hold on!"
"You cannot hang on! Girl, go get some." They push through others while cheering joyfully.
Before you are able to stop them from moving forward farther. You arrived, in front of the two cute men. Your attention was drawn to the man with the gleaming hair, though.
"Hi...Do you mind if I temporarily switch our friends?" In basic terms, your friend clings to the brunette, who was perplexed.
"Please remove him from this vicinity." You saw the man, and he spoke. He had a honey-like voice.
Without even a moment of hesitation, your companion dragged the stoic man away. Entrusting you with a beautiful man by yourself.
His features soon develop a painted grin as he says, "My, my, you have quite the strong heartbeat."
You were slightly taken aback by his statements. The male kicked the seat open before you could respond and motioned for you to join him.
You reluctantly occupy the chair. As you folded your hands into your lap softly, you noticed the beat of your heart in your ears.
"My name is Jouno." You receive the fox-like man's name who wears platinum. You briefly close your eyes as you repeat his name in the recesses of your mind. Again, you were speechless before you even opened your mouth. Your thigh was the object of Jouno's hand rest.
As you bit your bottom lip, your heart sprang with excitement.
Jouno begins to say, "You know," as he pulls his seat closer. "I'll have to resort to calling you princess if you don't tell me your name."
"Princess?" Uncertain of why, you blink, but the thought of him calling your princess all night made your ears burn.
"I'm Y/n." You murmur softly, wondering if you ought to have spoken a little louder given that the music penetrated everyone's eardrums.
But the snow-haired man lets out a little, contented sigh. "What an adorable name."
You felt your heart pound against your ribs as you listened to him speak so eloquently.
"I could say it forever, Y/n." Jouno chuckles lightly.
Once more, heat floods your cheeks as you say, "You don't have to flatter me, Jouno. I'm already swooned."
His grin widens as he lifts the hand that was resting on your thigh and slightly surrounds your waist. You were swept into his lap before you could say anything further.
Your knees were resting on the other leg while you sat on one. Your face and his were barely an inch apart. He was so near you could feel the warmth of his breath on your lips.
"J-Jouno..." You mumble the name of the man who was firmly gripping your hips.
Seconds fly by, of the two of you just enjoying the embrace. Jouno could hear your heartbeat and feel the warmth pouring from your blushing face.
Your focus soon wanders to one of the club patrons. There were undoubtedly a few onlookers. You felt embarrassed by this.
Jouno gently but firmly squeezed your hip, as if he knew what was wrong.
"They're merely envious of the beautiful woman I have in my lap," Your heart begins to race as he chuckles once more, "so pay them no mind."
Jouno turned your head back in his direction while softly cupping your face. Once you were face to face with him, no words were necessary because your lips just automatically collided into his.
He had really soft, warm lips that tasted incredibly sweet with a trace of alcohol. Your tummy began to flutter as the kiss got deeper. You instantly melted in Jouno's arms during that time.
You were prevented from leaving the male's lap by a gentle hand wrapping around your hips and another reaching up your thigh. His gentle finger tips dug into your smooth thighs.
You had no idea that a man could be both tender and ruthless at the same time. He put his hand under your skirt, and you made a hushed moan in approval.
Jouno lightly touched the underside of your lip with his tongue as his fingers inched you closer to womanhood. As you hesitantly opened your mouth for what he desired, a shock of electricity rushed down your spine.
His tongue entered your mouth without missing a beat. Carefully exploring and tasting you. Jouno noticed that his member had come forth and was now slightly rubbing against your thigh.
You uttered a startled noise as soon as you felt his hard twitch against the inside of your thigh.
"J-Jouno..." You muttered, but he filled the space and forbade you from saying anything more. All he wanted to hear was simply his name.
His hand, which was riding up your skirt, came to rest against your folds, which were concealed by a thin layer of fabric.
As the tip of his finger barely touches you, you tremble. He shifted your weight with his other hand while pressing even more against your thigh.
Jouno also shook slightly as his hips rose and his member throbbed in his slacks.
He kept teasing you, giving you only a split-second to appreciate the feel of his fingers on your clothed, needy cunt.
"Please, don't tease me." You whispered in a trembling voice. To get Jouno to touch you more and for a longer period of time, your thighs even tensed.
"Awe, you sound so cute like this," Jouno smirks.
As you hung onto his shirt, you let out another pitiful moan in response to his remarks. Your slight hip-rocking gives him some much-needed friction.
:"Who are you trying to stop from teasing you, anyway?" Jouno gave your thigh an urgent squeeze, grazing his knuckles along the slit.
You pause for a second. However, not for too long, as you say, "J-Jouno, I... want more..."
His member throbbed at your pleading, but he resisted the temptation to buck his hips.
"Jouno what?" He asks. His tone was close to your ears while it seemed of honey.
You tremble in his arms while wailing, "J-Jouno...please." Your dignity is being stripped away as you softly beg.
"Please...what?" As his fingertips brush against your folds, the imposing man laughs. You try to grind a little on his fingers, but they were pulled away, so you let out another severe sigh.
You plead to Jouno, "Please, Jouno...I beg of you...please touch me," in such desire to have him totally touch you.
Jouno delivers a moan "A-ah, fuck. Okay, Princess, because you whined so pitifully, I'll reward you."
Your stomach slumped as he moved his second hand downward while cooning. You observe curiously as his other hand releases your thigh.
You declared "But you said-" Your progress was halted by a brief touch on the lips.
"Patience~" Jouno whispers in your ear as he leans near. The portion of the lobe is then gently nibbled by him.
After hearing some jingling, his bare member was gently massaged against your smooth thighs.
You exhale in shock as you turn away from him. "J-Jouno!~"
Jouno didn't stop there, though. He gently scratched and squeezed your thigh as he moved his hands up it.
One hand stayed on your thigh while the other encircled your clit until his thumb came into contact with the puffy nub.
Your mouth lets forth another loud moan. "Yes!~ J-Jouno."
"Keep whining my name, Princess, and I'll keep making you happy." Jouno breathes into your ears as he murmurs.
His hips rise, pressing more forcefully on your thighs with his member. His tip landed on your skirt as he shoved back up after lowering his hips.
"Ngh...ah....J-Jouno..." You breathe his name once again. Earning his fingers to slide down their way to your drooling cunt. Massaging the region before applying pressure on your clit.
Your beautiful sobs made Jouno become a little louder and more bold. He moved your weight while pulling your underwear to the wide. Your eyes widen as you exclaim out in disbelief.
He pressed his bare member on your slick pussy. You whine, and then you reflexively begin grinning on Jouno's hard on.
"Ah~...ngh~" Jouno didn't anticipate your immediate reaction. He helped you move against his length by shifting one of his hands from your thighs to your hips.
"Fuck, good girl," Jouno repeatedly taps your clit with the tip while thursting lightly against your cunt.
"Ngh...J-Jo...ah! Ha!" Once more, you were weeping shamefully as you called out his name. "They will take notice."
Your gaze returns to the sea of individuals gathered around the bar.
As a response, Jouno answers, "That's...ngh...their problem."
Knowing that Jouno would not pause for a few observers. You made the decision to tighten your hold on him and rest your head on his shoulder to conceal the look on your face.
"We're hiding, huh?" Jouno heard you trying to hide your gasps and felt your warm breath against his neck.
His thrusts grew rougher and more desperate, pulling back so much that when he made another upward thrust, he nearly rammed his way inside of you.
You whimper his name for what seems like an infinite number of times, "J-Jouno."~"
With a few more hits to your clit, and feeling against your folds, you were brought to your high, earning a cry, "..M'cumming...cummming!~"
His member twitched as a result of hearing your sobs and feeling more moisture coat and drip onto his thighs. During your orgasm, he will give you more stronger thrusts to get to him.
Your skirt was soaked in warm, white strings of liquid.
You shook a little as you could still feel his hard member pressing against your slit, ever so slightly still moving.
“Oh…Princess…” Jouno coles. “I’m not done with you~”
Tetcho~
You were on your third drink, feeling that euphoric heat as it passed down your throat. You chuckle and set the cup down before turning to look at Tetcho, a coworker. Your heart pumping loudly in your ears.
"I feel you have drunk enough alcohol." Jouno places his hand on the table, moves it to your glass, and takes it away.
You make a tongue-clicking motion and side-eye Jouno. "The person who has been nursing that sake since we arrived says."
"Don't do anything that you would regret once sober," warns Jouno as he crosses his arms.
"You are saying that because you dislike Tetcho, I guess." You watch the relatively sober man converse with a somewhat intoxicated Tachihara while chewing your bottom lip.
Jouno shakes his head and sighs. He wasn't going to give you any more advice; instead, he was going to let you make your own mistakes and then laugh at you.
Despite the bitter colleagues' comments, you get up from your chair and stammer over to Tetcho. On tiptoes, you approach his shoulder from behind and encircle him with your arms.
"Tetcho~" You softly coo his name.
Tetcho turned to face you; he could still smell the fireball from a distance, but it was now much more potent.
"Y/n..? Do-" Your index finger pressed on his lips, cutting him off.
"I'd like for you to follow me." With your eyes fixed on his face, you gently tug on him to try to rouse him from his chair. He was a little puzzled.
"Where to?" As he moved, Tetcho questioned while placing his hand on top of yours. Gaining the thumping of your heart and a reddening of your already warm cheeks.
Your chest is further pressed into his back as you hum and lean. You rubbed your cheek against his neck and gave him a quick kiss, evoking an uncharacteristic response from the generally stoic man.
His surprise-filled eyes widen a little, and he asks, "Y/n?" with a light dusting on his cheeks.
You continued to gently kiss his neck while ignoring the dark-haired swordsman's questions and felt your way downwards. Tetcho, on the other hand, grabbed hold of your other hand and halted you in your tracks.
"Tetcho...Follow me now... I need you." You expressed to him what you wanted without any hesitancy in your voice.
Tetcho squeezed your hand and tried to speak, but you were able to yank him from his chair.
"Wait, Y/n, hang on." Tetcho made an unsuccessful attempt to hinder your course of action. Tetcho's hands were firmly gripped in yours as you proceeded to push through the smothering amount of people.
He gave up trying to fight you when he realized you weren't going to listen. Tetcho groans and looks for the destination you were dragging him to. As soon as you got to the back, where the restrooms were, it clicked.
"Hey...Y/n. You're not inviting me there, are you?" His heart was thumping as his golden brown eyes fixed on the women's restroom.
You shook your head, "I just want somewhere private..."
Tetcho gulps as your free hand seizes the handle of the men's restroom. Tetcho, however, pulled you firmly into his chest while cradling you with his other hand, which was placed on the back of your head.
His heartbeat was audible, and it was rapid. He eventually forced his way through the throng and pressed up against the wall.
"..." Tetcho attempted to speak his mind, but nothing came out. He shut his mouth quickly after that and ran his fingers through your locks.
As your hands moved down his torso and toward Tetcho's crotch, a grin crept upon your lips. You experienced a jolt of shock in your mind.
"Y/n..." Tetcho exclaims your name quietly, as his member jumps a little in your palm. Ensuring your excitement-induced tummy flutters.
You touch him through his clothes and tuck between his shoulder and neck. Once more, you gave his neck a few hasty kisses and even a few tiny love nibbles. Tetcho moaned a little louder and clutched some of your hair in his hand.
When you hear him groan, you stroke the bulge in his attire, teasing the tip occasionally to get him to take a longer, deeper breath. To get a feel for Tetcho's lips, you lift your head up and lean in for a kiss.
But you came to a standstill. Your mouth was covered by his hand, which caused you to shrink. Your shocked eyes were wide open. You step back and release his aching length.
"Are you saying you don't want to kiss me?" You inquire, a little let down.
Tetcho shook his head and exhaled. Soon, his arms around you, pulling you into a close embrace while he whispers, "Y/n...no...I do. Yes, I do."
"Then...why? Why didn't you let me smooch you?" You pout while letting out a small whimper.
Tetcho knelt down and gave you a delicate kiss on the cheek. He whispers, "I want to kiss you sober. I don't want to take advantage of you," with a note of sorrow in his voice.
He had you in a tight grasp, and you could feel his member pressing against your lower abdomen. You were eager and thrilled to have intimacy with Tetcho as a result.
"And that's...sweet." His words could not be disputed. "Let me do you some good."
After slipping out of the hold, you kneel. His hard on brushed across your cheek.
"Tetcho, please..." As you began to press your finger against his member, the hunting dog began to whine. He takes a deep breath and combs his fingers through your hair.
"I want this. I swear. This is what I've always dreamed." You pout while tracing the outline of his marketing area in the pants with your tongue.
Tetcho groans and accedes to your request. He nudges his head to the side and asserts, "Go ahead."
You immediately unzipped his slacks and unbuckled his belt after receiving authorization. Then, only inches from your face, his member sprang out from his boxers.
Tetcho gripped your hair firmly as he felt your warm mouth encircle his tip. You softly suckle the delicate spot, which was already experiencing some precum gushing out. Tetcho lets out a faint cry, followed by an urgent breath.
"Y/n...f-fuck..." Tetcho fought the impulse to begin prodding you in the mouth with his length.
To persuade the hunting hound to start moaning and call out your name a couple more times, you swirl your tongue around the tip a few times. Once his small cries had satisfied you, you bobbed your head half way down in anticipation of more.
Your hand curved around, caressing what wasn't remaining in your mouth. In an effort to make the beneath vein as pleased as possible, your thumb stroked against it.
Your efforts paid off, as Tetcho began to sob while having his head pushed back against the wall. His ecstatic crimson face was being watched by your half-closed eyes. Observing the man, who was typically difficult to read in any expression, was now clear.
By opening your throat, you enclose his manhood more fully as your tongue adds additional sensation. After he pulled at your hair and further squeezed you to his member, Tetcho let out a piercing exclaim.
"I'm so sorry, I'm sorry...ah ngh~" Tetcho let go of your hair after apologizing to you so he wouldn't push you down anymore.
As you attempt to take more of what he wants before his fingers become entangled in your strands, tears start gathering in the corners of your eyes. He cries with ecstasy as your hot, moist, mouth sucks on his throbbing member.
"I'm going to cum, y/n." Tetcho bellows as he drives his nails firmly into the wall for support.
You stopped when you heard his sobs and peered up at him. lightly brushing the tip of your tongue along the side of his member in a teasing manner. His thighs tremble a little as they struggle to resist your mocking tactics.
"Can't handle a bit of teasing?" you smirk.
Your thumb lightly feathers over his tip as you massage the genitals. Knowing what was going to happen, you swiftly wrapped your mouth back around Tetcho's member that twitches in your hand.
Your throat was assaulted by a burning liquid that suddenly rushed into your mouth. Tetcho's hips buck and tremble a little as they press into your mouth. You backed away, and with a pop, you freed his member.
Tetcho crouches down and leans against the wall, his hands snaking around to grab you and yanking you to your feet.
Your cunt is overflowing with fluid as you massage your thighs together. You loved hearing Tetcho breathe frantically after receiving head.
"...Can I..." Tetcho shrugs and asks, "Can I reward you?" His trailing fingers were shoved against your hips but didn't stop there. A thigh squeeze was followed by a crotch rub from the other.
You stutter a surprised breath before surrendering. His finger strokes your soaked rump as you lay your head on his chest.
"You're so wet." Tetcho then asked, "Just from sucking my dick?" with a look of slight wonder.
Tetcho didn't seem the least bit embarrassed when speaking in an impure manner. His finger starts to move rougher as it tries to penetrate your layers of clothing.
"Ah~...ngh~" You whine, your hips moving on their own, helping Tetcho in his efforts to be inside you through the clothes.
Tetcho observed your hands delicately clinging to his shirt as you rattled in his embrace. His hands begin to work again as he seeks a stronger response from you. In order to gain easy access to your in need cunt, he undid your pants' buttons and pushed them open.
You bury your face in his chest out of embarrassment as another cutting inhalation reverberates in your ears. When Tetcho's finger pushed aside the small layer of underpants and directly rubbed your clit, you opened your mouth to say something, but it was quickly replaced by another wailing of satisfaction.
"Tet...Tetcho!~" You unexpectedly call out his name.
His fingertips slowly feather your cunt in a manner similar to how you fanned his tip. Tetcho was inflicting sweet payback for your taunting by treating you similarly. He would approach your drooling entrance to open it with his digits but would then retreat back to your clit. Not letting you take pleasure in playing around with it.
"Please...Tetcho..." Like a leaf in the wind, you began to tremble more. "I...I need you so badly."
You surprised Tetcho by pleading, and your pitiful cries pierced his heart. He quickly caved down and stuffed his digits inside as a result.
You let out a loud cry before becoming embarrassed. You were aware that at least ten people had to have heard you. You start to bite back your moans softly, pressing more into the man holding you.
You were already on the verge of your climax based on your prior deeds. Drool was all over his clothes as you wailed a little into his chest. Tetcho, though, wasn't bothered. Instead, he gave you a long, passionate kiss on the head and tucked your bangs behind your ear.
As his fingers press even more firmly, an expression begins to form on your lips. You tried your best to hold back your whines, but it was absolutely ineffective. Your loud whining continued as his fingertips continued to probe deep within.
"m'cumming, m...mmm" Before your bubble collapsed, you cried a warning and poured all over Tetcho's the hand.
Tetcho withdraws his hand gradually, leaving your cunt with an empty space. Pushing off his chest, you turned to stare into his appealing brown eyes.
"I love you," Your cheek is kissed by Tetcho.
Tetcho bridged the gap with a passionate, adoring kiss as you opened your mouth to speak. Instantly melting, you once more shifted your weight toward him.
Tetcho laughed as he softly muttered, "let's get you cleaned up," as the kiss ended.
#bungou stray dogs#jouno saigiku#tetchou suehiro#tachihara michizou#jouno x reader#tetchou x reader#tachihara x reader#tachihara smut#jouno smut#tetcho smut
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The Lunewell Saga - Natura: Ch 3
Chapter 1 here
Chapter 2 here
Can also be read on ao3 (:
Book Sumary:
Zarifa Birch, an antique shop worker with an unusual past, has made a home for herself in the sleepy town of Lunewell. Though the shop she works at is not exactly ordinary, with cryptid items and odd occurrences, she has managed to carve the normal life she always desperately wished for out of it.
However, all that comes crumbling down, as a woman from Zarifa’s past throws everything into chaos. Faced with unimaginable horrors, seemingly unsolvable mysteries, and returning repressed feelings and memories, Zarifa along with her coworkers, must find a way to return the balance- and escape the cruel hands of death in this eldritch horror mystery
As always, he had not been himself in the night. He had been an old man, holding a rather nice-smelling bag, walking through the forest towards… something. Something he cared about.
His thoughts were not quite his own, but not the man's either; more a drowsy sort of mish-mash of voices, a bit like falling asleep in the middle of a bustling city. However, none of it really mattered, as he very much felt, smelled, and lived in the forest, above the crunchy leaves and around the warm scent. So hard to place. It was familiar, and yet, the exact detail of it had faded out.
He could hear his own voice, humming. It did not sound like his voice, not really, but it felt like his own, and that was enough for it to be his own. The vibrations travelled through his chest as he burst out in melodic sounds. He was humming a workers’ song, one that someone in his family had sung. Again, the details were blurry, like there was a block in his brain.
The forest was calm, basking in a sunny glow. Autumn leaves decked the ground, and the trees looked familiar. There was a comfort in this place, a home in the scent of mud and moss, and one that he cherished happily.
The trees, though originally quiet to his senses, rustled softly in a pleasant way. The wind must’ve been extra strong, he must’ve just not noticed it through the thick shield of stems.
The trees rustled once more, and felt a beat against the soles of his feet. It was slight, barely noticeable, but it got him to tilt his stiff, aged, neck downwards, if even just for a second.
It was then that it truly happened.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the trees curving, but he didn’t have any time to process as he was slammed down to the ground by a vine sprouting from the ground. A crack wrecked through his body, not unlike the sound a carrot makes when snapping, and he, in what simultaneously was and wasn’t his voice, howled in pain. His leg, already weak to begin with, felt as though it had been ripped in two, and he could clearly see red blood leaking from where the knee was bent at an unnatural angle. Fire coursed through his nerves, burning from his leg to his spine. The pain was so mind-numbing that he didn’t notice the much pointier vine heading right for him until it was too late.
As though it was sentient, a throned vine plunged at him, and punctured right into his stomach. It sliced all the way through him, as though his body was not but soft butter, before pulling out in an equally swift motion and landing him limp on the ground.
There was no pain, even as thorns began to wrap around and puncture every millimeter of skin, only numbness. Numbness from pain that could not be described in the English language. Numbness that no one alive had ever felt. Numbness that acted as a relenting defeat against his continuous fight for any hope of life.
And as he lay there, hands bloodstained, stomach gaping, and so incredibly empty, he feared. Feared for his wife, feared for his unachieved goals, feared for what was coming next. Even this fear, however, held a tragic sort of air to it, as it was dulled down by unrelenting numbness.
The numbness faded, along with all thoughts, as white, hot, pain came crashing down like a hammer. He let out one last pitiful, agony filled screech - for a scream was much too human to cover the sound - muffled by the thorns that had stuck themselves into his lips, before everything went black in what was truly the kindest mercy.
————————————————
Bruin awoke with a gasp, clutching his stomach. His eyes darted around his barren room, pulse racing at an olympic level under his skin. With a weak breath - still clutching his stomach with an iron grip - he closed his eyes, and repeated his mantra; You’re Bruin Becker, you’re not them, you’re safe.
The phrase played over and over again in his mind as his vision slowly morphed from a blur of panic, to the usual, groggy morning one. Taking a more stable breath, he slowly let go of his stomach. He couldn’t resist scanning his hands for blood, though he knew there was none.
Once he was sure his hands were clean, he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and watched the world come to life. The white desk and closet popped from the midnight blue walls, the sheets on his bed clear as glass. He glanced at his face in the mirror, and was not surprised at what he saw; deep, dark bags under his slender eyes, porcupine-like hair, and a thin sheet of sweat that lined his forehead.
He collapsed back into his bed with a tired sigh, wanting nothing more than to ignore the clock that was taunting him with the ridiculous hour he had awoken. He would probably do that. Go back to blissful sleep, that is. He doubted he even had gotten an ounce of it because of his stupid… nightmares? Visions? Whatever they were.
He closed his eyes, relaxing back into his bed, mind so far gone and forgetting one quintessentially, very, important thing. A thing he was oh-so-kindly reminded of by what could have only been described as the sound of every single plate in the house shattering at once.
With an almost inhuman speed, Bruin threw the cover from his bed, and darted to the room next door. He adjusted his hair along the way in a frantic motion, pulse having quickened yet again at the commotion. He braked as he reached the kitchen doorway, looking at the source of the sound.
On the grey tiles sat a dazed Grant, covered head to toe in flour, shards of ceramic plates scattered around him like a bomb had just gone off. Grant looked sheepishly at Bruin, blue eyes just as bagged as his own. “Uhh… good morning?”
Bruin couldn’t help the look of absolute disappointment that rolled over his face. “How did you manage to - never mind. I don’t want to know,” he said, exasperated, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Well, if you must know,” Grant began, ignoring Bruin’s statement, “I was trying to make pancakes. Keyword there being trying.” He got up and tried dusting off the flour powdered on him like snow, but gave up almost immediately. “It was a shame really. I make lovely pancakes. It’s the only good thing about living with me, according to my dearest exes.”
“I’m surprised they listed any good things about living with you,” Bruin mumbled, before joining Grant to pick up the last pieces of the plates.
Though he would never admit it, Grant had been a blessing in disguise. When he first rented the little cottage in Lunewell, he had accepted that his co-worker would be an annoying, messy, music-box obsessed pest in the house that he would hopefully have to deal with as little as humanly possible.
Yet, almost like a mold, he had to admit that Grant had grown on him. Sure, he still couldn’t stand the messiness, and he swore that every time he turned a corner he saw another damn music-box, but those were things he had learned to forgive over the years.
“What possessed you to make pancakes?” Bruin questioned as they threw the last pieces in the trash.
Grant quieted, biting his lip.“They’re great comfort food,” he said slowly, as if testing out the words.
Bruin tensed, suddenly hyper aware of the rumbling in his stomach. “Oh,” he said quietly, after minutes of silence, “did you have a bad night’s sleep?” The question was pointless, but Bruin felt the need to ask it anyway. If only to take away from the barking that had begun playing in his ears.
“Yeah,” Grant responded, eyeing him, “I was up working on fixing an antique box, planning to go to bed, but I think someone was begging for their life outside, which wasn’t a very nice sound to fall asleep too.”
It was an invitation, one which he pondered for a while, before finally giving his response; “I wouldn't imagine so, no.”
He looked away as Grant's ocean blue eyes filled with pity, something that hurt him as much as any gun wound. “Hey, I… uh,” Grant began, no longer looking at him, “don’t feel obligated to answer this, but, are they getting worse?”
“You should probably go and get changed. I’ll make some breakfast for us. We still have a while before work.”
Grant, bless his heart, didn’t push. Instead, he simply nodded, vanishing the sad look from his eyes. He was halfway out the door, when he turned around with a snap; “that’s what I was forgetting to tell you!” he said, “Zarifa called earlier, she wants us to come in early.”
“Really? That’s unusual.”
“My thoughts exactly. I didn’t ever find out why though, she remained all vague. Sounded a bit panicked, if I’m honest.”
Bruin nodded. “We’ll head out after you and I get changed then. I’m not really in the mood for breakfast anyway.”
“Aye aye, Bruiny,” Grant said with a mock salute, before slipping out the door and presumably into his bedroom. Bruin did the same, taking one last glance around the rustic kitchen before walking towards his own room with a newfound haste. Zarifa had always been more than lenient with the times they showed and left work, especially once she realised both Grant and Bruin had abysmal sleep quality and patterns, so something like this was not only highly unusual, but equally concerning.
He just hoped nothing too terrible had happened.
——————————————
The walk to the Office was a beautiful one, especially this time of year. They were both bundled in hats and scarves that Grant had insisted on, as golden yellows and flaming hues passed and fell around them. For all the flack they could both give Lunewell - a lack of internet service, isolation from almost everything, and navigational systems that were seemingly built by a sadist - neither could deny that living there on mornings like this was truly a magical experience.
Or would be, were it not for the unfortunate scenario.
“Oh I hope she’s alright,” Grant panted out, slightly out of breath from the speedwalking that bordered on jogging. Working in antiques was unfortunately not a field that kept one in great physical condition, and in moments like this it truly showed.
“I’m sure she’s fine,” Bruin reassured, “thinking logically, we know nothing serious has happened,” probably, “so it’s most likely something mundane, slightly ominous at best.”
Grant looked unsure at that, but didn’t say anything. Under the glasses, Bruin could practically see the well-oiled cogs turning in his head, eyes glaze as though lost in the mechanical world. It was his typical zoning out look, which was for once highly appreciated, as Bruin himself was in no mood to talk.
They walked up the path, letting the old, wooden store come into view. It seemed no different than yesterday, albeit much darker, except for, alarmingly enough, a room in the upstairs flat. They shared a questioning look, panic visible on both their faces, before speeding up and half-sprinting to the door.
With a lead ball in his stomach, Bruin realised that the door was not only unlocked, but stood slightly ajar. He shoved it further open, with an urgency but still lightly, as not to break any antiques.
Even the golden rays of autumn sun couldn’t hide the ruins of the shop. The furniture was at a slight angle, as though a lash had come whipping at the legs, the fragile glass and ceramics that had been close to shattering finally lay dead and dismembered on the floor, and most concerningly, there was an unidentifiable black liquid smelling vaguely of ozone.
“Zarifa?” Grant began calling, stepping over the mess with all the grace of a drunk octopus, “Zari? Boss? Are you in there?” Bruin followed his shouting companion, straightening the furniture as he went. They made it to the counter, still no sight of her, though that was changed as they heard a thunderclap of a sound emitting from the backroom.
They were in the employees’ lounge within seconds of the sound, greeted by the sight of an unusually casually dressed Zarifa surrounded by long walls of antiques, stacked in an organised manner. “Oh good,” she said, upon seeing them, giving them a warm smile that reached her tired eyes, “you made it.”
Bruin wasn’t so much looking at her, as staring at the large pile of antiques behind her. Some of them he recognised, like the ‘Girl in Field’ painting, or that odd statue of an old man made of clay, 200 years old, but painted in a cornflower blue pigment that could be no more than 100, though there were also surprisingly a lot of pieces he had no recollection of seeing. Zarifa, noticing his staring, looked at him apologetically; “Sorry I had to dismantle your system. I tried to keep the organisation, and I promise I’ll help sort it afterwards.”
“It’s fine. I’ll sort it myself,” he assured, not quite sure he truly trusted anyone to touch what he had sorted. Grant was a disaster on legs, and for as much as Zarifa was good at keeping schedule, she lacked the sheer efficient sorting instinct he had had since childhood. “Why is it all up here? Was there water in the basement again?”
Zarifa shook her head, before pulling a slightly splintered, old, wooden box with a golden, dust-painted leaf-engraving on top from behind one of the piles. Bruin’s eyes widened as he remembered where it had previously been, involuntarily glancing upstairs, and then back down to Zarifa. She hadn’t really… had she? No one had ever been in Valours flat, hell, no one even had the key to it.
She opened the lid cautiously, the box creaking as ancient and rusted hinges pulled back. She pulled out aged, folded paper, and slowly laid it down in Bruins hands. Though he would of course properly examine it later, he could tell it was far older than anything he was comfortable holding with his bare, gloveless hands. “It’s more sturdy than it looks,” comforted Zarifa, upon seeing his panicky stature, “go ahead, open it up.”
With a force comparable to a feather, he opened it in precise, calculated movements. He winced as he saw the handwriting, the fine, thin squiggles dating the paper to 300 years old at least, letting go of the note to the point it was barely still in his hands. He felt Grant peeking over his shoulder, and down onto the note curiously, mumbling the words as he read down the torn page.
It wasn’t a very long read, but it added tenfold to the confusion. “What seal?” Grant eventually asked, looking up at Zarifa, “this is the page blonde-pink-girl wanted, right? Why would anyone want this?”
Zaria sighed, looking at the paper with a darkness in her eyes. She looked contemplative, opening her mouth a few times to begin a sentence, before shaking her head and going back to thought. Finally, after tracing the golden part of the box a few rounds, silence echoing the room, she spoke; “We’ve all had encounters with Them before, right?”
Even with that single word, everyone in the room instantly Knew what she was talking about. It was Them that had drawn the entire group to the shop, Them that had left that hollowness that lived in all their eyes, Them that left all of them flinching at sounds and throwing hurried glances over shoulders, and most importantly, Them that created the bond they all shared.
Zarifa signed; “Take a seat, boys. This might require a bit of an explanation.”
—————-
After a long, long conversation, involving the raiding of Valour’s alcohol stash for some well earned drinking, along with expensive chocolates for an alcohol-abstaining Bruin, all had finally been explained. There was a silence in the air, tinged in cheap wine and dread, as they all looked intently at the ornate box. “So,” Grant said, clasping his hands ripping away the silence like a band-aid, “we’re dealing with a big orb, monster thingy, which intentions are unknown, who kidnapped our intruder who was reading text that made vines sprout around her and smoke fill her eyes.”
“Yeah, that sums up what I experienced this morning nicely.”
Grant blinked, Bruin hurrying his mouth which had been firmly hidden deeper in his palm. “Fucking hell, I need another drink,” Grant exclaimed with a groan, reaching his hand out with his designated office mug towards Bruin.
“You guys are all out,” Bruin said with a tired voice, “besides, I don’t think alcohol is the wisest right now. I think we should try to figure out what actually happened.”
“Good idea,” Zarifa said with a nod, “we can begin with the note. Funnily enough, it’s the easiest thing here to deconstruct.” She took the box and gave it one last glance over, before rotating it away from herself and giving Grant and Bruin the opportunity to see it; “Obviously the seal is referring to the monster. I think it’s just a matter of gathering the ingredients, and whatever happened, will be reversed.”
Bruin, more than prepared, had already pulled out his black notebook and found an empty page. He looked once again at the section of the note containing the ingredients:
A key is forged by fragments of Touched sanity eating a sight of one that Sees, dipped in water oh-so divine. Once the key has begun, the fragments must sew themselves between the fabric, letting all webbed light shine on them. As they are blessed by the minute, and after the final step of-
And out of the nonsense, quickly jotted down the list of ideas that had been proposed by a slightly tipsy Grant, and an unusually frantic Zarifa;
Fragmented Touched sanity (Magic mind? Pieces of brain?)
Sight of one that Sees (Some creature’s eyes obviously, maybe cow eye cult? (Most likely, Grant’s paranoia over cow eye cult, and not actually cow eye cult))
Water divine (Holy water?)
Webbed light (Interconnected grids of light? Light systems?)
Jotting them down like that, was sadly, not very revealing. Partly because all their minds were still reeling, and what they had brainstormed was mostly a series of disjointed thoughts rather than a narrative, and partly because there was still so much hidden at the bottom of the riddle ocean. Bruin could still hardly find himself believing Zarifa’s situation, and had it not been for the black liquid stains he saw himself, the cryptic note, and the wobbly tone of her words as she recounted the events, he probably would have dismissed her as being driven a bit mad by paranoia.
Even now, fully aware of the fact that it was real, he was incredibly tempted to just storm out the shop, notebook in hand. Though he encountered the unearthly almost every time he was in deep slumber, he had never actually had a fully conscious encounter. And those… nightmares, visions - whatever they could be called - had left him gluing the pieces of his mind with only the instinct of survival. A real encounter would break him.
And yet, he couldn’t run. He had nowhere to go. Thorns Antique wasn’t so much a place he had chosen to stay, as a shelter he had desperately thrown himself into. Physically, yes of course he could travel or move. Marcus had been asking him if they could move in together for months, and would be more than elated to take him in. And he was sure he could put that business degree to good use.
But, though he was physically free as a dove, his mental wings were clipped. What was he supposed to do when he inevitably woke up one night in Marcus’s bed, screaming about the knife that he was convinced was lodged in his brain? How would he explain the countless of cryptic, weird, objects littered between pages upon pages of ripped-out death notices? Markus would see him as insane, and any future job he would have wouldn’t tolerate his hazy, obsessive, jumpy, and sleep-deprived state.
Though he did not personally know what their stories really were, he suspected Zarifa and Grant were stranded on the same boat of forbidden knowledge. Zarifa had no interest in history, having a passion for literature instead, and a people-pleasing nature and work ethic that could get her far, and Grant, though a bit of a clumsy idiot, was also incredibly academically bright, and a true cityguy at heart. They were an odd group, but a strongly connected one.
Or, at least somewhat connected.
“I propose we figure out what to do now,” Bruin muttered, after reading the bullet points a couple of times, “I don’t think there’s a standard protocol for situations such as these.”
Zarifa hummed in agreement, leaning against the table with a pensive look, sipping on some more wine. “I think we should prioritise figuring out what the riddle is actually saying,” she said, “and I think most of the answers lay here. There must be some connections between all this supernatural weirdness, and I’m pretty sure it lies in the antiques.”
Bruin and Grant nodded, both pulling the wildly uncomfortable chairs close to the table in a loud, squeaking drag. “As for the stuff that we can’t find the answer to,” Zarifa continued, once everyone was seated, “we can always ask for that.” She turned to Grant; “You’ve called Valour, right?”
Grant blinked, the words taking a few seconds to register, before grimacing sheepishly. “I’ll go do that afterwards, promise.” Bruin sighed, but Zarifa simply nodded. She’d always been a lot more forgiving of his scatterbrain than Bruin.
“I’ll do the same with Lottie. Assuming she’s, well, alive. She probably won’t answer, but it's worth a shot.”
“Thought Lottie didn’t give us her number?” Grant said, Bruin mirroring his confusion. Zarifa stiffened, smile dropping by a minuscule amount.
“She didn’t, but I know how to get in contact with her,” she stated, in her best assertive tone. Before Bruin could ask what she meant by that, she powered on, bulldozing in a purposeful manner. “What about you, Bruin?”
Bruin racked his mind for a good answer, recalling what needed to be done, and all the archival systems they had buried in the husk of a computer. “Every item has a corresponding ID, and a short descriptor. I wouldn’t mind taking a look at both the system and the antiques . However, we’re all out of gloves, and our magnifying glass has been broken for two months, so I’ll head to the shop first.”
While this was completely true, Bruin did leave out the little detail that it was also beyond time to see Marcus again. Through a mix of nightly hauntings, and antique mishaps, the days had somehow slipped by without them having a proper chat. He didn’t so much mind the lack of interaction, as the guilt that came with it.
“Thank you,” Zarifa said with a smile, “and, if it isn’t too much of a bother, please keep an eye out for any… unusual sights.” He nodded, her shoulders slumping down visibly, even under the thick cream turtleneck. Grant then promptly slipped out of the room to give Valour a ring with his smashed phone, and Zarifa headed out the front door and into the shop to tidy what was left of the mess, leaving him all alone.
He buried his hands into his neatly combed hair, tension deflating like a balloon as he exhaled heavily. His head was being squeezed by a thick rubber band, though whether it was the usual sleep deprivation or stress was anyone’s guess, and his eyes were droopy and heavy, as if magnets were attempting to pull them closed.
Nevertheless, he got up, pulling his winter coat and messenger bag off the chair. He left the scarf and hat where they lay, feeling they were a bit over the top considering it was only October. Slipping the black notebook into the black and purple bag, he headed out the door, and towards the outside world, heading in a general life direction he was not fully comfortable with.
#The Lunewell Saga - Natura#the lunewell saga#natura#writing#wip excerpt#original writing#writing wip
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Homecoming - 1
"Everyone is going to be out of the office today greeting soldiers home. You can write that letter today." Hyungwon told her as he came into her office.
"Yes sir." Cora responded immediately.
"Don't rush yourself. Just take your time and write naturally. You're an amazing conversationalist and sometimes it's easier with writing."
Cora nodded her head, waiting for Hyungwon to tell her he's disappointed she's not going today.
"I'm not disappointed." He said, reading her face clearly.
"What?" She asked, looking up at him.
"I can see it all over your face. You're waiting for me to yell at you or be disappointed you're not coming. I understand why you can't. There will always be more, so take all the time you need."
Cora exhaled a deep breath when her boss left.
He said he wasn't mad, he said he wasn't disappointed...but Cora wasn't sure if that was a lie or not.
Not wanting to think about it any further, she got out her stationary and set out writing her letter. She didn't have more than a name, but that was enough for her.
-----
"Private Lee, you got mail!" Jooheon heard his Sargent yell toward his tent.
"Sir, I've not gotten mail the whole time I've been here. It's not for me." Jooheon said as he came out of the tent.
"Unless there another Lee Jooheon stationed in your tent, this is definitely for you."
Jooheon's heart rate picked up as he quickly made his way over to his Sargent's outstretched hand.
He took the thin envelope and inspected it carefully.
"Thanks Shownu." Jooheon said quietly.
Shownu went rigid, his body wanting to correct the man, tell him he should always be addressed as Sargent, but he stopped himself. He knew this was big for Jooheon.
"You're welcome."
Jooheon didn't go back to his tent. He went to the little clearing between his tent and the mess hall and sat on his favorite rock.
With shaky hands, he opened the letter.
April 23rd
Lee Jooheon,
Jooheon. Private Lee...what is the proper way to greet a soldier? I'm still unsure. Please correct any error that I make in addressing you, I'd hate to offend you upon first impression.
Jooheon didn't know who had written him this letter, but he could only smile through watery eyes.
My name is Cora and I work for a non profit organization called Homecoming. We help soldiers transition back into civilian life after deployments as well as while on deployments. You had stated upon enlistment that you have no familial ties or anyone to help care for you while you are away. That's where I come in.
I'm here to be your tie to the outside world, should you want that. This is by no means something you're obligated to do, but I'm here should you need anything.
I can be a friend, a confidant, a sender of items. Whatever you need.
I mean, I don't have the money or means to send you a new car, but I think you get it.
Should you not want or need anything, please disregard this letter. I don't want to be a burden on your already hectic life.
I don't really know how to talk about myself, but I've been told basic information is a good way to start.
As I mentioned, my name is Cora. I'm 25 and I am working on my undergrad degree in writing. It takes a while because I'm doing it part time online, but I enjoy it a lot.
I have a brother named Changkyun. He's younger than me and obnoxious most days, but he's my rock. He's been there for me through… Everything I've ever gone through.
My best friend is Naomi. She's beautiful and elegant. She's a therapist and the smartest person I've ever met in my life. We could not be more polar opposite if we tried.
Honestly, that's really it. I don't keep many people close, but the ones I have make up for it tenfold. They're amazing people and I'm lucky to have them in my life.
Please let me know if there's anything you want or need and I'll be sure to get it to you as soon as possible.
Sincerely,
Cora
P.S. Oh! I have a cat named Toast. I thought that'd be worth mentioning.
Jooheon couldn't stop smiling, even if he wanted to.
He read the letter and then reread so many times he'd lost count.
He walked back to his tent, letter folded neatly in his pocket.
"You've been gone a long time." His bunkmate commented.
"Yeah, sorry. I…I got a letter."
"Wait! Seriously? From who?" Kihyun asked.
"Her name is Cora. She works for a place called Homecoming. Said she'd be my tie to the outside world."
"Are you going to write her back?" Kihyun asked.
"Absolutely. I can only live through you and Minhyuk so much. It'll be nice to have someone else to talk to."
"That's awesome. I'm happy for you."
Jooheon smiled at his friend before going to his bed and getting out his paper.
"Not wasting any time are you?" Kihyun laughed.
"Not even a second"
------
Cora was sitting in her office a couple weeks later, worrying she'd offended Jooheon. He'd yet to write back, so she assumed she'd be getting nothing from him.
"Cora, what's up?" Naomi asked her.
Naomi was in having lunch with her.
"Just worried. What if he doesn't write back?" Cora asked.
"You told me you gave him the option not to." Naomi pointed out.
"I did, but I guess I expected something back. I'm an idiot"
"No you're not. If he doesn't write back, that's okay too ya know. Doesn't mean you did anything wrong."
"I know...I mean I think I know."
"Listen, just focus on the right now and don't worry about anything else."
"I know I know...if it doesn't matter in a year, it doesn't matter now. The therapist is coming out in you." Cora laughed.
"I can't help it." Naomi shrugged.
"I better get back, I have a client coming in right after lunch. Call me so we can get dinner tonight." Naomi said, gathering up her stuff.
"I wouldn't forget. It's Friday night."
Every Friday for the last six years has been spent at dinner with Naomi. In the last six years they'd only missed a hand full of dinners, and they were extreme cases.
-----
Cora was finalizing a list of items needed for the newly returned when her coworker Jason stepped into her office.
She tensed up immediately.
"Got big plans tonight?" He asked casually.
"Dinner." Cora answered.
"You're never free. Maybe I can take you out to dinner tomorrow?" He asked.
"No thank you." She responded, remembering Naomi's words. She needed to tell Jason no on his advances and not skirt around them.
"What? Why not?" He asked, clearly offended.
"I don't want to." She said honestly. Her voice was quiet and she could feel herself shaking slightly.
"Well that's rude. What'd I ever do to you?"
The further in to her office he walked, the more tense she become. Every muscle in her body was telling her to run.
"Please leave my office." Cora finally said.
"What the fuck? Why are you kicking me out? I just want to take you out."
"And I'm assuming she said no. And ya know, that's definitive and needs no explanation. No means no...no matter what the situation."
Cora looked up to see her brother standing in the doorway.
"Jesus, fine." Jason said, holding his hands up in surrender before leaving her office.
"Fuck that guy." Her brother said as he walked over to his desk.
"What are you doing here?" Cora asked him.
"Came to pick you up. I dropped your car off at the shop earlier to get your brakes changed, remember? The guys already took it home for ya."
"Right, right. I forgot"
"You alright?" Changkyun asked
"I'm fine. Let's take off."
-----
The ride home was quiet, Cora thinking about the exchange in her office a bit ago.
She didn't know how else to tell Jason no and he was starting to freak her out.
"We're here. Have fun with Naomi at Friday Night Dinner." Her brother said, breaking her from her thoughts.
"Always." Cora said, smiling at her brother.
"Oh! Cora" he said, leaning out his open window.
"Hyungwon told me to give you this but that douchebag made me forget."
Changkyun handed her an envelope before waving and driving away.
It was a letter from Jooheon.
Cora stared at for a long moment, wondering if she were imagining things.
She ran into her house before carefully opening the letter.
May 2nd
Cora,
Thank you for your letter. It's much appreciated and very surprising. You can call me whatever you like, but Jooheon is definitely just fine. I get enough people screaming Private Lee at me while here.
It makes me happy to know that places like Homecoming exist. There are many men and women who go through much worse than me, so having help is going to do great things for them. And for me too.
I'd hate to ask for anything, we did just meet. Kind of bummed that new car is off the table though ^_^.
In all seriousness though I could honestly use a good toothbrush. Mine from home didn't last as long as I thought they would and the issued ones here are horrible. If not, please disregard.
Going through school slowly isn't a bad thing. You don't get burned out as fast and you can really get a grasp of what you're learning. I think that's awesome.
I'm not good with talking about myself either, but here we go.
I'm Lee Jooheon. I graduated top of my highschool class, but didn't attend college. I’m also 25. I have no siblings or family, but I have a couple good friends I met over here.
Kihyun is nice, but pretty motherly to be honest. Makes sure I've eaten and get decent sleep. He’s my bunkmate and self proclaimed best friend.
Minhyuk is...something else entirely. He’s hyper and sings too loudly. He’s definitely the mood maker of us. Makes our time go by faster, which is never a bad thing.
The other two people in our pseudo group aren’t really friends, but they’re not not my friends either...does that make sense?
The first one is Shownu. He’s my Sargent. He’s awkward and tough, but one of the best guys you’ll ever meet in your life. If Kihyun is my mom, Shownu is definitely my dad.
Lastly, there’s Wonho. He’s an enigma, that man. He’s tall and buff as hell and looks like he could kill you with the snap of his fingers (and ya know what...he just might be able to) but he’s the softest person I’ve ever met. He gets homesick and cries when watching ASPCA commercials on TV.
Speaking of TV, that might be what I miss the most while stationed here. TV and music.
So... since neither of us are good at talking about ourselves, I’ll ask some questions throughout our letters. You don’t have to answer of course, but it’s a good way to keep conversation going.
What’s your favorite color (cliche...but important!)
Mine would be cyan.
Hope to hear back from you soon.
Sincerely,
Jooheon
P.S. I love cats! What color is Toast? (That is such an awesome name for a cat by the way)
-----
(2)
#jooheon#lee jooheon#monsta x#mx#au#Homecoming#1#series#fic#scenario#imagine#changkyun#kihyun#hyungwon#wonho#minhyuk#shownu#jos corner of the world
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Make Like a Bubble (And Fade Away)
(AO3)
Summary: Despite everything, Remy finally makes a friend. He tries not to let this one slip his grasp too.
Warning(s): Near drowning, vomiting, bullying(??)
Pairing(s): Remile (platonic or romantic it’s up to you lol)
Character(s): Remy, Emile, Deceit (Ethan in this)
Word Count: 7188
A/N: sooo uhh here’s the story i said i was writing like 3 months ago sdhfsjkdfjkdsfh sorry it took so long, i got kind of self conscious about it… but now enough time has elapsed so that i dont really care that much anymore lmfao
also… just a reminder… i dont really write that much so dont bully me too hard ple ase dssdhfjkdsh hope you enjoy tho! :)
A yawn escaped Remy’s mouth, and he held a hand over it in a feeble attempt to disguise it.
Today it seemed like the lights in the coffee shop were especially bright (he supposed it was due to the gloomy weather outside), so he’d opted to wear his glasses inside as well. Business was slow, since the hellish rush that were the hours after school let out had already passed. Remy found peace in the quietness of the shop, his only other companions being an old lady with tea chatting quietly with her husband and a college student clack clack clacking away at her keyboard in the corner next to the fern.
The bell atop the door jingled as someone walked in. Remy shut off his phone and stood up from the stool he was crossing his legs on, placing the device under the countertop.
“What can I get for you, cutie?” Sure, this method of greeting had gotten him in many heated conversations with his manager over the years, so he dialed it back from using it on every single person that entered the store to cute old ladies and cute boys.
And boy was he cute. And boy did he stand out. Remy had never met a person with dyed pink hair before (although he did have a period in middle school where he seriously considered it), but the vibrant color was fading so that it gave way to his natural brown. He was wearing a cardigan, and, perhaps most pressingly, was soaking wet.
The boy took off one of his earbuds, digging around in a pocket of his cardigan with a tongue sticking out. He was creating puddles on the hard wax floor that Remy would have to clean up (read: leave it for the next guy to deal with). “I’ll just take a large black coffee!” He chirped, seemingly unfazed by the nickname. Remy quickly punched the order in.
“Can I get your name?” Remy asked once more.
“It’s Emile,” The stranger said. Remy typed in ‘Emil’ into the machine and allowed a white sticker to print out.
A faint purple glow surrounded one of the large cups stacked near the register. It grew in intensity as Remy levitated it towards his person, slapping the sticker onto it lazily as it spun away from him. He was counting the $2.57 he’d have to give back in change to Emile as a similar purple aura lifted the coffee pitcher behind him.
“Oh… Wow,” Emile mumbled, causing Remy to glance up. His light brown eyes were trained on the scene unfolding in front of him, coffee pitcher pouring into a white cup all by itself. Streaks of yellow light accompanied the purple aura occasionally.
The finished drink landed in his hand alongside a lid to cap it. He settled the coffee pitcher safely on the table as he handed the drink and change to Emile.
“What’s your size cap?” Emile asked, leaning in ever so slightly as he took the items. “My mom has powers too, but they don’t look nearly as pretty as yours!”
“Well, I don’t do cars,” Remy listed. “I think the biggest it’ll go is people,” He omitted the fact that the only person he’d done it on was himself.
“My mom’s can only go up to jars… Things like that. Hers don’t have any colors though,” Emile nodded, more to himself than to Remy he supposed. “Imagine you could levitate buildings and stuff? Li-Like freaking Superman?! How awe- I mean, I guess it wouldn’t be that cool now that I think about it...”
“Nah, I think it’d be pretty cool,” Remy absently tapped his finger to his chin. “Lifting up the Statue of Liberty and just dunking it into the sea for kicks. That sounds kinda rad. But I guess it’d suck if it were some kind of like… Maniac.”
Emile nodded again solemnly. “With great power comes great responsibility,” He said. “In the wise words of Uncle Ben.”
“Sounds like a nice guy,” Remy conceded.
“... It was a reference,” Emile laughed to himself quietly. “Anyways! Thank you, I don’t want to keep you away from your work for too long!”
Remy glanced around the near empty Starbucks. The elderly couple were getting up to leave. “No, it’s okay, you really aren’t. It usually doesn’t get too busy unless it’s like, 3 or 4 o’clock.”
A grin spread across Emile’s face. “Ah! Good thing I usually stay behind a little later then,” He laughed to himself again, looking down and one hand playing with the wires on his earbuds. “Will you be here again tomorrow?”
“All week, babe,” Remy responded.
“Cool! That’s cool,” Emile mentioned that he had a bus to catch soon, and he apologized for not sticking around longer. Remy in response told him not to worry about it, and truth be told he had never met anyone who apologized for not being able to hang out with him more. Most of his friendships had ultimately ended with the other party always slowly but surely trimming him out of their life.
So Remy sat back down on the stool as Emile left the shop, bell jingling to signal his departure. His phone sat forgotten underneath the table as he leaned into the palm of his hand. Remy watched the fluorescent lights of the Starbucks filter into his vision as his glasses slipped further down his nose, raindrops falling against the clear windows allowing him to close his eyes…
-
As Remy fell into the depths of the ocean, feeling his body catapult deep into an underwater cave, light entered his vision.
The dream ended as soon as it began, and Remy stirred at someone gently shaking him awake. He blinked sleepily from behind his glasses, and he used them to hold back his hair as he looked around in bewilderment. Various objects were hovering in the air surrounding him, a few couple cups, lids, spare change and a Sharpie. The purple glow surrounding them faded as Remy became more aware of his surroundings, and they all dropped to the floor.
“Wha’ time,” Remy mumbled, rubbing his right eye as he looked to the person who woke him up. The lights were way too bright, lines and starbursts nearly blinding him. He put his glasses back on.
“Almost 6,” His coworker responded. He had a disinterested expression on his face as he tied his green apron around his waist. “I’m guessing it wasn’t very busy?”
Remy felt hot all over. He abruptly stood up, the world spinning slightly before everything stabilized. “No, I don’t think so.”
He left before he could hear his coworker’s reply. As soon as he collected his bag from the back room, Remy realized he’d forgotten to bring an umbrella. While this elicited a strong swear from him (mentally), Remy decided not to dwell on it for too long and proceeded to exit the establishment only mildly annoyed with himself.
It wasn’t pouring, but it wasn’t drizzling either. Remy took a deep breath, holding his leather shoulder bag over his head as he lightly jogged towards the bus stop. He was not going to look like an absolute clown sprinting and slipping on a puddle. Or worse, just flat out passing out in the middle of the sidewalk. No ma’am. Not today.
As he rounded the corner however, a familiar stranger sitting on the bus stop’s bench made his jog slow.
This wasn’t a stop with a roof covering the bench, so the boy with pink hair was even more soaked than when he’d come into the shop for the first time. He was holding a mint colored umbrella with his knees, shielding not his head but the yellow notepad he was scribbling furiously on. Remy wondered how he could see with his glasses dripping water down the lenses like that.
“Hey,” Remy announced his arrival, pace slowing to a walk as he approached. Emile jumped at his voice, turning to look at him with wide eyes as his pen finally stopped writing. However, as soon as their gazes met the tension in his shoulders relaxed, and he gave Remy a sheepish smile.
“H-Hello again!” Emile said cheerfully, like he was desperately trying to hide the shaking of his voice. “Gosh, what abhorrent weather, huh?”
“True that,” Remy plopped down on the bench next to him and shifted his bag so it rested on his lap. Raindrops dripped down his dark hair. “Bus never came?”
Emile laughed to himself and rubbed the back of his neck. “Um, no it did. Several times probably. I think I got a little carried away…”
Remy glances down at his notepad, filled with lines and lines of tiny text all squished together as to conserve space. He seemed to be almost running out of pages. “You don’t say?”
“I-It was important, so!! I just wanted to take a little extra time-“
“An hour.”
Emile blinked in bewilderment at him. “Excuse me?”
“You left the shop an hour ago,” Remy elaborated.
Emile swiftly checked the time on his (waterproof) watch and groaned loudly. “Ah, dangit, mom’s gonna kill me! … Oh, wait, do you need this?”
Remy stared at him as he scooted closer to him on the bench, putting his notebook back into his bag (it was shaped like a cheeseburger, Remy realized. A really soggy cheeseburger). He lifted his umbrella from between his knees with one hand and held it up over the two of them.
Although, truthfully, it wasn’t working that well. The umbrella only covered Remy’s right side as the left was exposed to the relentless rain, but he still gave a soft thank you regardless.
After a moment’s silence (Remy checked his pocket for his phone, except it wasn’t there. He cursed his forgetful brain for the second time as he now had to settle for staring awkwardly at the cars passing in front of them), Remy opted to speak up.
“... What were you writing?” He asked.
Emile gave a noncommittal shrug, shifting the umbrella so that it was covering Remy more. Remy frowned at this, pushing Emile’s hand back to where it was hovering between the two of them.
“It’s kind of dumb-,” Emile cut himself off with a sneeze.
“Bless you,”
“Tha-”
“And nah, I’m sure it isn’t,” Remy reassured him. “Anything that makes a guy stay outside in the rain for an extra hour probably isn’t that dumb.”
It seemed as though this was enough for Emile’s expression to brighten, and he immediately sat straight up on the bench while unknowingly bumping Remy in the glasses with his umbrella. “Well!! If you must know,” Emile began. “I actually write just a teensy, weensy bit,”
He emphasized this with a pinch of his fingers before he leaned backwards on his free arm. “Basically, I thought of this idea where a girl named Elizabeth gains the ability to travel through different dimensions as a result of her ingesting some bad salmon! On her journey, she meets a cute girl who, plot twist, is actually a fish! And then, they’d both get married in a meadow on another dimension’s Mars, and she’d have salmon as a part of the catering on their wedding day which is where Fish-Girl, horrified, would be disgusted with Elizabeth due to the very notion of consuming salmon because of her ancestors, who-”
Emile took a deep breath of air, red coloring his cheeks as Remy tried to retain the information that had just been spilled out in front of him. Elizabeth was a constant, there was a fish in there somewhere, multiverse…
“Elizabeth doesn’t know she’s a salmon,” Remy asked.
“Well, actually, salmon isn’t a specific type of fish. It encompasses a wide variety of them (I read that once on Buzzfeed), and no, that revelation comes in the second act,” Emile pushed up his glasses. “It’s kind of a metaphor on how you may not know your partner as well as you do, and the value one should place on communication in a relationship.”
It seemed as though pure, unadulterated happiness was radiating off the boy next to him, and it took everything within Remy to keep his smirk at bay. Emile seemed content, despite him sniffing occasionally (because of the rain) and his fingers twitching (because of the cold) as he played with the sleeve of his cardigan.
“It’s okay if you didn’t follow that,” Emile laughed hollowly, tone suddenly turning self deprecating. “I know my words are ah, kinda a handful! To keep track of that is.”
“I don’t follow anything anyone says,” Remy blurted out. “Like, ever. So it’s cool.”
Emile blinked, opening his mouth to respond before a bus suddenly pulled up in front of them as though it materialized out of the raindrops. It wasn’t Remy’s bus, but Emile stood up from the bench and tugged his school bag over his shoulders.
“Oh! Here, you can have this!” Emile exclaimed abruptly. He jerkily shoved the umbrella towards Remy, who only stared at him for a few moments in bewilderment.
“Uh, what?” Remy said dumbly.
“You can have it! I’ll just tell my mom I lost it,” Emile looked off to the side, rain cascading down his face in rivulets. Remy thought he looked like he desperately needed it more than he did. “I-It’s as thank you! For talking to me.”
Remy began, “I don’t really need it-” He was cut off by Emile all but throwing the umbrella towards him as the bus driver honked loudly.
“I’lltakeitbackfromyoutomorrowbye!” Emile sprinted up the steps of the bus and Remy was left fumbling to gain a grip on the mint colored accessory, it clattering to the ground as the bus pulled away.
Remy stretched out his cold, numb fingers towards the umbrella. Upon closer examination, there was a little tag that looked suspiciously like a yellow Post-It note stuck to the inside with clear tape, the words “Emile Picani! =)” scrawled across it in barely legible handwriting.
Ah… There was an extra ‘e’ at the end of ‘Emile’. He’d keep that in mind for next time.
-
Remy’s head slammed against the underside of the countertop when he woke, and he let out a hiss of pain as he dropped back to the floor again. His glasses, hovering in the air in front of him, promptly fell onto his face and proceeded to clatter to the floor. A couple other items followed suit, including but not limited to: An old Sharpie, some spare change, and Emile’s umbrella.
“Good morning,” A voice called curtly. Remy, not moving from his spot on the floor, turned towards the darkness under the countertop and let out a groan.
“Oh, don’t even right now, Ethan.”
Ethan shrugged, slipping off of (Remy’s) barstool easily. He stepped towards Remy, crouching down and picking up the umbrella. “Didn’t peg you for a teal kinda guy,” Ethan said, turning it over in his hands.
Remy snapped his attention to Emile’s umbrella, and hastily began trying to scramble to his knees. “P-Put that down, man” He huffed, gripping the edge of the countertop as the world spun around him. Ugh, he got up too quick. “That isn’t mine.”
A frown appeared on Ethan’s face. “You… Stole it…?”
“No I- I didn’t,” Remy wobbled over to Ethan, grateful for the fact the only customer in at the moment being the same college student from yesterday. With a quick hand that totally wasn’t shaking at all, he snatched the umbrella from his hands with a scowl.
His scowl, however, quickly softened into an expression of anxiousness. He bit his lip as he leaned against the counter. “Hey, you didn’t see a guy with pink hair come in here, by any chance?”
Ethan shrugged. “I just got here. They totally shouldn’t give me more hours for the afternoon when the only guy working here keeps passing ou-”
“Ah ah ah!” Remy jabbed the end of the umbrella at Ethan’s shoulder. He let out an offended hiss in response. “That’s enough outta you, sis.”
As though he hadn’t just assaulted his coworker, Remy continued, “He had pink hair and glasses,” Remy explained this by making circles in front of his eyes to imitate glasses, as though he wasn’t already wearing a pair. “And his school bag was, like, a burger or something. He-”
“By any chance was his name Emile?” Ethan interrupted.
Blinking, Remy nodded. “Wow, that was easy.”
“Yeah, he totally blends in at school,” Ethan said bluntly. “Like, I barely ever notice him.”
“Really?”
“I was being sarcastic.”
“Whatever, just,” Remy, exasperated, shoved the umbrella towards him. “Give this to him, please? He was supposed to come in today but I think I missed him.”
Ethan eyed him warily before saying, “He wasn’t at school today, so I’m guessing he probably didn’t come in anyways,” Although he took the umbrella from Remy regardless.
A sudden pang of concern hit Remy as he recalled the boy’s creative episode in the rain the day prior. Maybe he should have thrown the umbrella back at him (Wait, no, it would’ve just hit the bus instead…).
“Does he skip a lot?” Remy asked, trying not to let the worry show from behind his glasses.
Ethan kept feeling at the handle of the umbrella, like rubbing it was going to unearth some ancient rune that he needed to discover. “Hm… I don’t think so. He cares a lot about his grades, definitely,” Ethan, smile suddenly appearing on his face, turned the umbrella once more. “Wow, this is bumpy.”
“... Alright I’m gonna go now,” Remy said, walking into the back room. “Make sure he gets it.” He added, only slightly threatening. “Like, seriously.”
“Yeah, yeah, definitely,” Ethan mumbled. His attention was diverted from the umbrella to a customer walking into the store, his voice fading into the background as Remy walked, “Hi, how may I help you…”
Remy shook his head, pushing open the door to the back room. Well, it wasn’t like Ethan was totally untrustworthy or anything.
-
The next day it was raining again (Because of course it was, it was Florida), but Remy was, surprisingly, not fast asleep when Ethan walked in for his shift.
The first thing he noticed was the mint umbrella in his hand, and Remy’s neutral expression very quickly turned into a frown.
“Hey-”
“He said I could keep it,” Ethan explained cryptically.
“He what-” Remy, who had been busy questioning Ethan’s moral integrity all day already, tried not to scream as his coworker briskly entered the back room to deposit his things. Because his mind was already going to the very imperative questions of Well, why didn’t he come in today? Didn’t he give me the umbrella? Am I being #clingy right now?
“Also, he had to monitor for a teacher after school for parent teacher conference, so he couldn’t come today.” Ethan emerged from the back room, in the middle of tying his apron around his waist. “He told me to tell you that.”
“Are you two friends or something?”
Ethan moved to the register after tying his apron and pulled out his phone. “Eh… We just have Latin together.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. He already has a bunch of them, so I’m sure he’s fine without me.”
For some reason that statement made a knot twist in Remy’s stomach, but he ignored it. Because jealousy was not a good look, and Remy would not be caught dead looking so desperate for friendship he saw in a dude he’d only known for one day.
So he made himself a coffee (so that he wouldn’t fall asleep waiting for the bus) and ended his shift. He glanced back at Ethan as he neared the front door, still toying with the umbrella handle under the counter while on his phone, and realized that he’d once again forgotten his umbrella at home.
-
Emile came back in for a black coffee. Remy spelled his name correctly.
They talked briefly, Remy questioning his decision on the umbrella, and Emile just gave that same nervous laugh. He was wearing a sweater today, with a cartoon cat on it shaped like a cookie.
“He seemed to like it a lot, so I thought I’d give it to him!” Emile heaved his backpack up so that it rested more comfortably on his shoulders, smiling so brightly at Remy he felt like he needed to put his glasses back on. “I didn’t know you two worked together!”
Remy smiled. “Small world.”
He couldn’t stay for long this time, because he was going to be hanging out with his friends, Remy learned. They were going to be studying for a test together at the library, which didn’t sound that fun to Remy, but Emile seemed rather ecstatic about the whole thing.
Before he left the shop, Emile paused at the front door and turned his head around. “Oh! I almost forgot to tell you! I was working on the story again yesterday: Elizabeth and Ella (her girlfriend) make up afterwards! But the story leaves off at a cliffhanger when a meteor strikes the wedding reception. Whether or not it was premeditated is still to be determined.”
Remy took a long sip of his coffee as Emile was talking. “Love that for them.”
Emile grinned, pushing up his glasses and waving as he exited the coffee shop. Remy decided to begin wiping down the counter while waiting for his shift to end.
-
“You haven’t seen Steven Universe?!”
Remy picked at the inside of his ear with a pinky finger. “I mean. I’ve probably seen like, half of an episode. Or something.”
“Ohmygosh, you have to watch it-” Emile abruptly cut himself off, realization dawning on his face. A wide grin spread across his blank expression, and he pulled the hem of his sweater down to gesture at it.
“Look! Remy, this is Steven Universe!” Emile animatedly went through the effort of pointing each colorful character out on his sweater, going as far as to explain their faults, character arcs, backstories…
“I like this one,” Remy said as Emile was taking a breath, and pointed at a girl in large comical glasses. “She looks pretty cool.”
“That’s Connie,” Emile continued, Despite him being in the middle of explaining… One of the colorful ones before Remy interjected. “She’s very inquisitive yet cautious, and I think one of the most interesting traits about her is her feelings of loneliness.”
Remy quirked an eyebrow at him, absently rubbing the countertop with a cloth. “She doesn’t look very lonely here,” He said, poking at the character on his shirt. She was grinning with her eyebrows set in a determined expression. Also she was carrying a huge sword.
“Well, due to her father’s job, there is a lot of instability in her life,” Emile elaborated, leaning forwards so that his elbows were on the counter and a hand was propping his chin up. “Simply put, her family moves around a lot, and thus she finds it difficult to hold onto friendships.”
“That’s… Kind of depressing,” Remy said, an odd knot of sympathy forming in his throat. “For a kids show.”
“Well, I guess, but it’s just so… So frickin cool how realistic that is,” He sighed dreamily, and he let his head rest on his forearm instead of his elbow. “Gosh, I love cartoons! Do you have a favorite show, um…”
Emile blinked at him owlishly, straightening up. “Wait, I don’t know your name.”
“Oh.” Was Remy’s only response to that.
“Gosh, that’s so rude of me!” Emile squeaked, the onset of embarrassment on his face so fast that Remy almost had whiplash witnessing it. “I-It must have slipped my mind! I’m so sorry!”
“Don’t worry about it,” Remy said with a smirk. “I was just worried you’d never forget it if I told you.”
“Don’t keep me in the dark any longer!” Emile gasped, leaning forwards suddenly. “What’s your name? Or I’ll just keep referring you to as ‘Starbucks Guy’ in my head.”
“Is that a threat?”
“It could be.”
After a drawn out pause as Remy sipped his iced coffee, he responded with a simple, “Remy.”
Emile stared at him for a moment, before a squeal escaped his mouth and he clamped his hands over his lips. “Li-Like from Ratatouille!! Remy and Emile, oh my god!!” He exclaimed loudly. A woman on the phone in the corner of the establishment sent him an odd look that Emile didn’t notice.
“Like… From France…?”
“Ratatouille!” Emile repeated. “Please tell me you’ve seen Ratatouille.”
Remy took a guilty sip from his coffee. “It’s probably a TV show?”
“It’s a Pixar movie,” Emile took out his phone and typed something into Google (He didn’t have a passcode it seemed) and showed him various pictures of a 3D cartoon mouse. In a chefs hat.
“Wow, she’s cute,” Remy deadpanned. “Glad that reminds you of me.”
“He’s great! It’s a great movie!” Emile smiled despite the sardonic slight. “You should watch it sometime! Oh, you have Netflix, right? It’s probably there.”
“Totally,” Remy lied.
“Awesome! Um…” With his gaze stuck on his phone, Emile trailed off, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. A look of horror then struck his face, and he immediately shoved his phone in his pocket. “Shoot! I was supposed to meet up with them like thirty minutes ago! Ah-”
Emile gave him an apologetic look. “Sorry I can’t stay for much longer, I’ll see you on Monday, though!”
“Why Mon-” Oh, yeah, the school week ended on Friday. “Yeah… Yeah I’ll see you then.”
Emile waved as he bolted out of the Starbucks, and Remy all but sagged onto the countertop, glasses sliding off the bridge of his nose as he glared at a speck of dust in his peripheral vision.
He probably should have asked for his number… Or was it too soon for that? Ah, whatever.
-
One nap, his boss yelling at him for it, and an hour later, Remy had officially clocked out. He didn’t have much else to do for the night, since he had finished his homework the day prior, so Remy settled for the grim reality of going home to watch a rerun of The Office before he inevitably fell asleep halfway through the episode.
On the way to his bus stop, there was a bridge he had to walk past. It laid across the polluted river, shitty paint job and all. Graffiti consistently covered the underside of it (somehow), and Remy never spared a second glance towards it.
Well, the reason why this insignificant, minute detail in his own insignificant, minute life was suddenly relevant was due to the head of pink hair on the bridge.
It was a group of about five people, including Emile. His bright, pastel colored sweater was tinted to a pretty shade of dark periwinkle due to the sunset over the bridge. He stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the group of individuals wearing mostly earthy, warm colors.
Remy catapulted himself behind a building, sticking his body up against it and digging out his phone. He was just going to check Instagram really quick. He definitely wasn’t eavesdropping, nope.
“... ile, isn’t that show like, for little kids?” A voice drifted from over the bridge. Remy adjusted his sunglasses. This was stupid. He should just keep walking. Pathetic how attached he grew to one person even after knowing them for a grand total of three days at most.
“Well,” Emile’s voice was loud. There was a cartoonish quality to it that Remy couldn’t place, maybe it was the way he said his e’s. It might’ve been an accent, but Remy could not place which one for the life of him. Despite this, his voice didn’t seem to carry as much authority as the speaker prior. “I just thought it was fun, I guess.”
A bubble of bitterness welled up in his throat at Emile’s tone, because it was softer than when he had spoken to him at the bus stop. Like he wasn’t using it to its full potential.
Whatever, Remy conceded he’d leave it alone. This was kind of bad, wasn’t it? To be eavesdropping like this. #Clingy! Blared in his mind as he walked slowly away from the scene, towards his bus stop.
“That’s weird, Emile,” Another speaker said. “Don’t you watch any, like, real shows?”
“... I don’t really watch that much TV.”
-
Remy awoke with a start, much like he always did. Though this time he was floating above the ground, drool pooling in a puddle on the countertop.
The barstool clattered to the ground as Remy scrambled to get a grip on the countertop before he fell off of it. He heard snickering, and whipped his head around to glare at Ethan.
“Your shift’s over, princess,” Ethan said. He sprayed whipped cream into his mouth, setting it back down before his attention returned to his phone once again. Remy sighed, rubbing his still groggy head before clocking out for the day.
The sky was clear, though there were a gaggle of looming rainclouds near the horizon. Remy didn’t mind, however, since he found the sunset was freaking gorgeous today. Definitely Instagram-worthy.
So he decided to take a picture of it before heading to the bus stop. Who knew when he’d get another opportunity like this, especially since it was rainy season. Maybe the bridge would be a nice photo-op?
As he passed by the old, graffiti-littered bridge, Remy’s steps slowed.
It was Emile again. While Remy didn’t find it odd to witness highschool students being outside during the weekends, the odd thing about this was that Emile was completely alone.
He had an elbow on the railing of the bridge, propping up his chin in a way that he looked almost serene, gazing out over the polluted water. The oranges and angry yellows of the sun made his beige cardigan look more like a deep red-brown.
Remy’s hand lingered over his hand. This was probably the most perfect photo he could ever imagine for his Instagram, but of course he wasn’t going to take a picture of someone just standing there. That would be weird, right? Should he forget about this now? Go up to Emile and talk to him? The lack of an expression on his face didn’t suit him well, Remy noticed.
In his other hand, hanging by his side, was the yellow notebook Remy had witnessed him writing into many days ago.
As Remy continued debating whether or not he should go up to him, Emile had shifted his position. He was walking backwards from the railing, face set in a determined grimace. His grip tightened on the notebook so much that his fingers were smudging the ink and the pages were wrinkling in his grasp. He seemed to be psyching himself up for something, clenching and unclenching his fingers as he kept his gaze on the water in front of the bridge.
Then he swung his hand back, and flung the notebook into the river.
Similar to how people, quote on quote, had their lives flashing before their eyes upon their deathbed, Remy only saw his friends. Or lack thereof. The empty birthday parties, the pitying stares from other students, a teacher extending a hand to him as he laid asleep on the floor…
And it was probably then that he realized he hated being alone. The feeling clawed inside of him like a vice, and yet he could never seem to hold onto anyone before they faded away from his life. He didn’t want to feel that way again.
He felt his feet moving before his mind could wrap itself around the situation. It was like a primal instinct had taken over, and suddenly Remy was vaulting over the railing with a strength he never knew he possessed, extending a hand towards the yellow pages that were half submerged into the water.
And as he let the notebook float gently into the air, his familiar purple aura surrounding it, Remy felt his knees give way.
A mute scream bubbled from his throat as his grip slacked on the railing, body falling into the water despite his mind yelling at him to move, to regroup, to do something-
A rush of cold water hit him like a ton of bricks, and Remy felt dizzy as all the breath from his lungs left him despite himself. He felt the familiar haze of sleep cloud his mind, and he thought ruefully that he had never fallen asleep in a river before…
As his vision went darker and bubbles filled it, he saw the stream of light from the sunset, a soda can surrounded by purple float to the top of the river, and there was something pink coming towards him… He was fading, fading...
-
Emile Picani watched as the Starbucks barista, the one who always knew to get him a black coffee, vaulted over the railing of the bridge. He watched as his powers made his notepad levitate into the air, and watched as the barista’s legs seemed to freeze up, hold on the railing slacking all of a sudden. And he watched as he plummeted into the polluted river, notepad still floating with a pretty spark of purple surrounding it despite it all.
He was stunned! Flabbergasted, floored, er… He didn’t really know what to do. Emile was still standing and staring at where the man had disappeared under the water… And he wasn’t floating back to the surface… Oh no-
Things suddenly started shooting to the surface, a soda can, old shoes, a couple fish and a hair dryer. That was probably what spurred Emile to lurch himself over the railing as well to dive into the water.
It was murky and hard to see- And oh god why was everything brown?! Emile resisted the urge to gag as his heart raced, eyes squinting to make out anything in the water atop the bubbles escaping his nose. There were still things rising to the top of the water, a phone, a ring of keys, glasses…
Emile’s eyes focused on a hazy blob of darkness lying on the river floor, and he quickly shot his hands out to grab at it. By now he was very quickly running out of air, and it didn’t seem like Starbucks was going to wake up at any point either. So Emile gathered as much of the man’s jacket as he could in his hands, panic pooling within his stomach as he felt a large amount of air leave his nose through bubbles.
Okay, okay, it’s fine, this is fine, fine and dandy, Emile heard his voice scream inside of his head. He tried not to gasp at the darkness fluttering in and out of his vision, trying to kick his way back to the top of the river. But his movements were growing sluggish, and everything was suddenly covered in a haze that wasn’t there before. And Emile was sinking, sinking…
Floating…?
He felt a light feeling overwhelm him, and looked down to see his hands surrounded in a purple aura. Was Remy… Doing this?
Emile’s hands were in a death grip on Remy’s jacket, squeezing his eyes shut as his body was shooting to the top. Bubbles were escaping his mouth, but soon enough, his head broke the surface and he was gasping for air.
Sweet, sweet oxygen invaded his lungs and Emile allowed himself to cough up the water he had accidentally swallowed while resurfacing. His attention snapped to Remy, still submerged in the river and he quickly brought the other boy up to the surface while trying to kick to shore at the same time.
As the effects of Remy’s powers wore off, Emile had gradually reached the shore. He all but threw Starbucks onto the shore, and laid himself down next to the sleeping barista atop crushed soda cans and sharp plastic. His arms felt like they were on fire, and his heart wouldn’t stop beating like he was running from a known serial killer… Man, maybe he should start working out more.
Then, Emile’s attention refocused onto the matter at hand… Oh god, Remy probably swallowed a gallon of dirty river water or something. Emile quickly scrambled to his side, looming over him as he surveyed the condition of the unconscious teenager. Would he have to perform CPR? Oh no, Emile wasn’t qualified to do that!! Maybe if he looked it up on Google he’d have a better understanding- Oh, but he’d lost his phone in the river…
As soon as the feeling of helplessness welled up inside of him, it popped like a bubble. Remy’s eyes cracked open, squinting against the harsh rays of the sunset. His fingers twitched as he tried to sit up.
“Wh-” Remy began, voice hoarse, but as soon as he started his face turned a sickly shade of green and he turned his head to vomit up river water. Emile kindly looked away from the scene, grimace present on his face.
“Um,” Emile started, but a strange feeling overwhelmed him, made his eyes water and the back of his throat burn. He’d realized that most of what happened was mostly because of him, and his little stunt back on the bridge. If he hadn’t been so stupid, Remy wouldn’t have…
“I’m sorry,” Emile couldn’t stop the tears from flowing down his cheeks, and he was pointedly looking away from Remy as well. “I-I, oh gosh,” He mumbled wiping at them with the sleeves of his cardigan despite them also being soaking wet.
As Remy opened his mouth to respond, another torrent of river water escaped him and onto the shore. He held out a hand, motioning for Emile to wait a second and spoke after vomiting.
“Do-Don’t apologize,” Remy muttered, wiping his mouth sheepishly. “I think I dropped it anyways. Your notebook.”
All that statement did was make him cry even harder, and he curled in on himself, hugging his knees and burying his head in them. He tried saying that he didn’t care, it really didn’t matter to him, because the fact of the matter was that his actions nearly caused another human being to die. Not only that, it was Remy, someone who had been nothing but kind to him through the brief interactions they’d shared together.
Remy was patting him awkwardly on the back. “Sor-Sorry, yi-yikes, it’s kind of cold out, huh?” He said, laughing.
Emile didn’t respond, and Remy opted to draw his hand away from Emile to sit cross legged on the shore line. He reached down to extract a soggy piece of paper from one of his leather boots.
“So… I kind of fall asleep sometimes,” Remy blurted out suddenly. Emile blinked at him, furrowing his eyebrows in questioning. “Like, it’s really random.”
“Huh,” Emile said. “That’s why you-”
“Yeah. Um,” Remy scratched the back of his head. “It gets really strong when I fall asleep. My powers, I mean. I’m usually not strong enough to lift people or anything.”
Emile thought back to when he was surrounded in a purple aura, the feeling of weightlessness as he floated to the top of the river despite him sinking just a moment before… “Ah.”
“Sorry if that’s weird,” Remy laughed bitterly. “But I just thought I should tell you ‘cause… You know.”
He didn’t know, but Emile suddenly wondered what Remy’s life must have been like living with a condition like that. He wondered if he had a hard time connecting with other people too, he wondered if he was lonely too.
“It-It’s not,” Emile remedied. “I mean, kinda but I don’t care… You’re great, I-I just don’t know why you… Did that.”
He wondered if it was the lighting or if Remy’s face had grown red. “I just… I know it means a lot to you,” He answered. “And don’t give me that crap and pretend it doesn’t matter. I know it does.”
Emile tried to pretend like that statement didn’t make a new wall of tears well up in his eyes. “Y-Yeah,” He whispered, hugging his knees closer to his chest. “It does.”
So they sat together on the shoreline, Emile trying to ignore the chill that came with a gust of wind. Looking up at the sky above, Emile wondered if there would ever come a day where he’d make a friend that he could show his writing to without the debilitating anxiety that came with being judged. Maybe a friend he could watch cartoons with without them asking to change the channel to something like a reality show instead. He wanted someone who would spend time with him that didn’t come at the expense of having to do a project together for AP English.
Then he looked over at the barista, staring blankly out at the water, dark hair plastered unflatteringly to his forehead while squinting. Was it too bright? Was that why he wore sunglasses indoors too? It seemed like Emile was learning something new about him every time they interacted.
A hopeful feeling ignited in his chest, and Emile wished that he could learn more about Remy with time.
-
“This is my number!”
Remy quirked an eyebrow as he took the post-it note. “Uh-”
“I lost my phone because of, you know,” Emile waved his hand vaguely, but Remy already knew the incident he was talking about. “So I had to get a new one.”
“... Thanks,” Remy said. He furiously engraved it into his skull to remember to text Emile, because he’d probably never forgive himself if he forgot. “I’ll text you after my shift’s over.”
“Yeah, yeah, of course!” Emile said flippantly. “I just wanted to say thanks for the other day… I was kind of- heh, kind of a wreck! Emotionally, haha.”
“Yeah, it’s cool,” Remy thumbed over the new cracks on his phone- He referred to them as battle scars in his mind though. “I’d nearly drown in a shit-filled river anytime for you, babe.”
Although he was kind of joking, Remy was delighted to see a nervous smile on Emile’s face. Much better than tears for sure.
“Haha!! Um, I uh, hah,” Emile squeaked, putting a hand to his red face. “Gosh, it feels like Agrab- You probably don’t know what that is! Haha!! Anyways!”
He unceremoniously dumped a shoddily wrapped parcel onto the table. The wrapper was a repeating pattern of cartoon characters he didn’t recognize.
“It’s the Loud House! Okay, uh, happy Saint Patrick’s day, bye!”
With that, as soon as he came he was gone. Remy watched mutely as Emile bolted out of the shop, though not before nearly tackling an older gentleman making his way in and apologizing to him profusely as he colorfully swore at the retreating teenager. A genuine snicker left his mouth, and he looked down at the gift in his hands.
He’d open it after his shift ended, Remy decided. Using his powers, he levitated it so that it rested underneath the counter, hidden from view. Remy smiled at the older guy and adjusted his glasses.
“How may I help you?”
#remy sanders#sleep sanders#emile picani#dr emile picani#remile#remy x emile#sanders sides#thomas sanders#cartoon therapy#sanders shorts#deceit sanders#he's in this for like 2 scenes lmfao sorry my boy#writes
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INTP 9w8 here. It might be helpful to show that in feeling you are on their side, the side of 'Reason' (because clearly they feel like they are more reasonable than you and the rest of the system) e.g. by saying emphatically that "I know right it makes no sense!! At all!! But for some reason we all have to comply and I hate it but I reckon compliance is the easiest (lowest effort) way to get out of this mess. And maybe if we show that we are willing to [gain the experience of] working within the
system they'll be more open to future feedback about changing it. And oh boy I reckon the system needs work. We should all group together and draft a letter in favour of [ideas about future improvements]. Let's grab a drink once all this is over. I'm pretty sure all of us need a long holiday and it would be great to chat about something that's not Problems Everywhere for once." etc etc also one thing that might be of issue is that somehow you've become The Representative of The System (i.e.
The Representative of All That Is Wrong which isn't necessarily something that needs to change tbh but it might be of benefit to show your radically different and much more likeable 'Relaxing Mode' (as opposed to Work Mode) (aside: oops I forgot which bracket level i'm in bUT ANYWAY) even if it's just idle chatter near the end of your shift. Likable traits you could emphasise: 'Has passionate values', 'Cares about things', 'Thinks interesting thoughts', 'Idly working on impressive resume item xy
z, 'Likes the same sports team as you', 'Is physically attractive', 'Smells good' (time to go perfume shopping?), 'Is good with money' (find a good happy hour), 'Has interesting stories', 'Doesn't talk about politics unsolicited', etc etc. You're an E1 you likely have plenty of great attributes to show off, even if 'Chill/laidback/easygoing' (probably) might not be some of them.
HTH i guess and good luck :) As with any brainstorming every idea is hit-or-miss, so, please let me know if anything is egregiously unhelpful.
----------------
So, I’m going to respond to this and the most recent other response and then I’m done since I think I’ve said all I can say but I do think some background is helpful:
I am in a trainee, temporary position that lasts 2 years and is about to come to an end (think akin to medical residency or an apprenticeship), in a very small department. In other words: they know who I am and I am junior to them. The compliance director is senior to them. We all work within the same small office.
For the remainder of my time here I (and for that matter anyone on the side of compliance’ is subject to the same regulations. In other words, not only did we do the work of actually reading through the regulations (which, as legal documents, were publicly available and shared on our email list), changing processes, developing new strategies, etc, etc, we did so on top of our usual work of doing the testing that is subject to the regulations (and in my case, on a fraction of the salary). Anything that is extra work is extra work for us as well. And obviously, as a junior person to them who is about to leave, I am not only very much the messenger, I don’t even have the standing to push back against the regulations for them. Arguing with me is a waste of time because I’m telling them what needs to be done but ultimately I will not be the one who knocks on their office door in two months when they fail to meet the requirements.
My direct supervising chain has my back.
This field has if not always, at least for the last several decades, required adherence to a wide variety of regulations. Following regulations/compliance is not the whole job but it is a very significant portion of it. These are simply new regulations. The concept of compliance should not be new to them.
As previously stated, some of their arguments been in my opinion absolutely ridiculous. Some have some truth: this will take more time. I don’t think the amount of time is egregious, and we are all salaried and exempt employees, but technically speaking it does add some more time. Fortunately if they have trouble with their workload they can go to someone who is not me, as I have no control over that.
Other arguments as mentioned aren’t even true: much of the updates to the regulations actually do agree with current industry or federal recommendations - the law was somewhat outdated. This is not inconsistent with other resources.
On likeability: that might be a factor. I am a little order, a little more experienced in the general working world, and more direct than the previous people who have held this position right out of school, and so while I’m polite and professional I’m not very subordinate. I’m also a woman and these are men who are older than I am, but I am giving them the benefit of the doubt and assuming that’s not a factor while simultaneously knowing that it might be (and that as a young woman in STEM I’m sure I have my own hangups on behavior surrounding that).
Anyway, I am personally of the belief that while you should be polite and professional and build relationships, I’d rather be listened to than liked. That means I will certainly make small talk and generally be pleasant, and if a coworker and I hit it off, great, but ultimately you need do your job whether or not you think I’m nice.
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The Shop of All
Once, there lived a man, he lived with his wife and his two children.
The man was happy with his life
There was only one problem
He had always wanted more than just this
We this man was a child he dreamed of achieving things no one else had done before
However, those dreams and ambitions were halted by life
For as the man grew older, he had to take on responsibilities
The man had to go into office work, where everything is bland and hardly anything interesting
The man didn’t want his job
He couldn’t see past himself and at the big picture
What he was doing was helping many people across the world, but he didn’t see it
The man had fallen in love with a women that he’d seen many times
His wife had worked at a restaurant on the side of her regular day job to earn more money
The man would go there every Monday
At first because he would go with his friends and enjoy themselves
But eventually he started looking forward to when Monday would come so he could see her
The man eventually plucked up the courage, and asked her out on a date
Years later the two got engaged and eventually married
They couldn’t’ve been happier
Or could they
You see, over the years the two had begun to argue more and more
The man couldn’t see past himself and at the big picture
He had fallen head over heels for her in his youth
But he eventually developed a superiority complex
He turned from an honest, kind soul to a nasty and vindictive person
He hadn’t wished this of course
His Wife and children had began to spoil him more and more and he thought it wouldn’t stop
One day, he and his wife fought
And they fought
And they fought
No resolution was in sight
The two argued for what felt like hours until both of them stormed out of the room
His wife went to the bedroom and he left the house
He felt bad for fighting constantly, he wasn’t a bad person after all
So, he decided that he was going to help fix everything that he had done
But Where to start?
He decided that he should try and get couples counseling for the two of them
So he went home and pitched the idea to his wife
He apologized and told her that he would try to fix everything he had done
His wife forgave him and said she would help as best she coil
However, she said that because of everything that he had done, he wasn’t allowed one thing
She said that he wasn’t allowed to get counseling
Surprised by this the man asked why
She replied by saying that if he really meant it, then he would look some place else to fix things
The man was still confused, but he wanted to fix everything so he begrudgingly agreed
He analyzed what he had been doing and how it was harmful to the people around him
He figured out what he should do to fix things
With his wife
With his children
And with his coworkers who he was constantly rude to
There was only one problem, he hadn’t enough money to buy and schedule everything
For you see, he had planned to take his family out and apologize
He would then give them each a gifts of their favorite things
Then he’d promise to be better and fix everything
For that was his plan but it would not pan out if he hadn’t the money
He wanted to make a big spectacle to show them that he cared
The man, desperate to fix everything he had broken, searched and searched
He looked for something, anything, that could help him
He looked online for places with discounts to be able to afford everything
He looked around the city nearby for deals to be to afford everything
He searched and searched, but he found nothing
On the brink of defeat, the man went to a small town neighboring his by a few miles
He looked through the shops, desperate
None of these shops had what he was looking for
Then, he passed by a shop, a shop that he felt was special, but he couldn’t tell why
The name of the store was “The Shop of All”
He went inside
And in this shop of all he saw the most immaculately kept store he had ever seen
The variety of everything the store did was incredible
On one side of the store, there were clothes and gowns
Then there was jewelry
Then antiques
Then furniture
Then cooking and cleaning supplies
Then dinnerware
Then food
Then drinks, both alcohol and not
And then, at the end of the store, were the tills, and a little coffee shop
The coffee shop also offered for orders of baked goods
This store seemed fantastic, but there seemed to be no one else in it
The only other person he could see was someone standing in the middle of the store
The man approached
“Hello, how may I assist you?” the worker had said
“Hello, I was looking for all of this-” the man pulled out a piece of paper with a list of things on it
“-and I was wondering if you had all of this for as inexpensively as possible”
The person looked over the list for everything “Of course sir, we have all of this”
“Really?” asked the man surprised, the list had a very wide variety of things on it
“Yes sir, would you like me to help you look for these items?” he asked
“Yes, please.”
So, the two of them went around the store and the man found everything he was looking for
A carton of Eggs
Flour
Sugar
Peanut Butter
Peppermint extract
A few video games
Posters of people that the man didn’t really know
Music albums
And a few Novels
Surprisingly, the man found everything that he needed in perfect condition
The books looked and felt brand new
The albums were very specific and hard to find but they were there
The sold out games that he was getting were all there
The posters looked new and were even signed by the person in each of them
And all the baking ingredients he needed were right there
The man felt like he had been lucky
The person said that he could have all of these for a greatly reduced cost from what he thought
With these kind of prices he would think that the stuff be slightly used and worn
But everything was perfect
The man paid for everything and left
Over the next week he scheduled a time for him and his family to go out
And when that day arrived he treated his family
He took them all out to a nice restaurant
After that he took a walk with them through the park
Then they all went and saw a movie they had wanted to see
And then they went home
And when they got home, he sat them all down in the living room and got their gifts
For his wife he had made her 3 batches of peanut butter mint cookies, her favorite
For his daughter he got her the posters she had been wanting, signed by the people in them
And for his son he had gotten him a few video games he had been saving up for
And each of them got 2 albums by their favorite band
They all thanked him greatly and gave him a hug
He now appreciated them, everything they did and everything they loved
For he may not understand all of them, but he can still support them nonetheless
After that day he was a better person
He listened to what they had to say
He gave advice
And he supported all of them
After all of this, he had to go back to that store and thank the person working there
He traveled to the town
He parked his car, and walked to where the shop had been, but there was nothing there
The man was surprised, for he had seen and been in the shop
And there was no way that it had been torn down, it had only been two weeks
Then the man noticed something, there was a piece of paper on the ground
The man picked it up
It read:
Hello sir! You may be wondering why the shop that you had gotten all of those items from has disappeared. You need worry not! You see sir, the Shop of All only appears to someone who truly needs and deserves it, a rare sight to come by in this day and age.
I mostly do not do much, as I am constantly needing to wait more each time a new customer is in need, and the fact that you were able to enter is astounding. I could tell that you deserved it because you looked desperate, you looked like you had searched far and wide for the items you had wanted.
I was more than happy to oblige, and I assume you are happy with what you got. The purpose of the Shop of All is to give the deserving everything they need.
Anyway, I hope you have a safe future and we may meet again some day.
~Shopkeeper~
The man was in shock
He didn’t know how to respond to this
But he was very grateful that he was able to encounter this Shop of All
He and his family were happy now
Many years later, the man was getting to his mid 40s
He, his wife, and his children were all sitting and watching tv and socializing for the holidays
They decided that they should go out and do something, perhaps some christmas shopping
They decided to go to the shops and see what was there
They looked in many different store and they bought a few things for their relatives
They were all having a great time, going from shop to shop and talking
Then they noticed something, there seemed to be a new shop on the street
They decided that they should see what it was
And when they were able to see the sign, the man dropped everything he was carrying
The sign read “Shop of All”
“Could it really be?” asked the man, bewildered
“What do you mean dear?” his wife asked him
“Do you remember a few years ago when I surprised you all?” he asked them
“Of course we do dad, it was such a nice surprise” his son said
“But what does that have to do with this?” his daughter asked
“This is where I got everything” he replied
“That’s crazy, you got us such different things that you couldn't possibly get it all in one place” said his wife
“But I’m telling you that I did” said the man
They all decide that they should walk in and check it out
And when they got in, the man remembered everything clearly
Nothing had changed
Everything looked exactly the same as it had all of those years ago
And in the center of it all, the same person stood there
“Hello, how many I help you today folks?” he said
He then looked at the man and recognized him
“Oh, hello again sir.” he said
“You remembered me?” the man asked
“Of course I did sir, as I said in the letter you received, my appearances are few and far in between” he replied
“What is he talking about dad?” his son asked
“This is the store where he got all of those things for you a few years ago” the man replied
“Really?” his wife asked “But I’ve never seen this shop before.”
“Sir, could you please read out the letter that you got” asked the man “I know you have it on you”
“Of course” said the man, and he grabbed the letter out of his coat pocket and read it out to everyone
“So, you really did get all of those things from here, didn’t you?” asked his daughter
“I did” the man responded
“Actually sir, may I see that letter?” asked the person
“Of course” replied the man, and gave it to him
“I’ll be taking this, and giving you this.” he said, handing everyone a card
The card said on it “Welcome to the Shop of All!”
“These cards will let you get here anytime you wish, I haven’t given one of those out in a long time” said the shopkeeper
“And I will tell you, this store isn’t static, it can change location and the interior can even change”
They all looked at him and nodded
“I’m sorry we can’t stay any longer Mister-” said his wife
“Please, call me Alteria” said the shopkeeper
“Well, Alteria, I’m sorry we can’t stay longer, but we must be heading home, it is getting late” said his wife
“Of course,” said the shopkeeper
And with that, they all turned around and left
and when they were leaving the shopkeeper said “Come back soon.”
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To all my ladies – listen up.
I’ve been struggling putting into words what I’ve been feeling lately, so I’m going to throw it right out there. After careful consideration, I’ve decided that we women are failing each other. That’s right ladies, I said listen up.
Let me explain.
Yes, there are millions of women around the world who do a wonderful job of motivating the female kind and for those boss-ladies, I’m eternally grateful. Your mom is probably a woman who acts as a great source of support, guidance and after whom you’ve likely modeled much of your life. I’m sure you can provide me with a list of coworkers who inspire you on the daily with the way they kick ass in the boardroom and in life. Yes, your best friends are likely the ladies who encourage you to continue chasing your dreams despite the setbacks that leave you feeling like the only answer is to put on your yoga pants and drink a liter of wine to yourself. (Let’s be real, if she was your best friend she would toss on her best lulus, stick two straws in the bottle and chalk it up to emotional support. But maybe that’s just how my best friends roll.) I want to be clear – these aforementioned examples of female solidarity are not the scenarios against which I have a particularly sharp axe to grind.
The bone I have to pick is with EVERYTHING else.
I’m talking about the countless moments in our daily lives when we have the opportunity to leave a positive mark on the life of another woman and we miss it. Instead we’re caught up in a tornado of our own making - mentally comparing ourselves to one another, feeding into a false sense a competition, and judging every life, career, wardrobe and makeup decision made. Leaning too quickly towards criticism instead of towards love, encouragement and acceptance.
Older and wiser so the saying goes. I turned 30 this year. I’m not sure whether it’s cliché to say that I’ve had some life changing revelations in the past few months, or whether it’s fitting that after years of searching for something I feel as though my vision is clearer. Either way, my eyes, my mind, my heart and most notably my mouth are wide open. All of which I have no intention of shutting anytime soon. This moment of enlightenment did not occur on a remote hillside somewhere while I sat on my yoga mat basking in the warm afternoon sun and peacefully coming to the conclusion that the female kind was in need of a gentle helping hand. Not even close. The moment my perspective shifted was alternatively filled with an all-consuming fiery rage.
Let me paint the picture for you.
I recently attended a social engagement at which I felt the strong urge to result to physical violence. It started off as any “word that rhymes with hour” would – a group of well dressed women, lively chatter filling the room, perfectly concocted signature drinks being held in one hand while ladies used the other to point out certain cute, funny, and adorable photos of the guest of honour and then take a stab in the dark at how old she was in the each of the snap shots. I’m a seasoned professional at these shindigs; I play the games, I eat the cookies, I listen to the speeches and for the most part I enjoy taking the time to celebrate what is an important milestone in the lives of my closest friends. I was happy to be a part of this moment, to see my friend surrounded by her loved ones, looking forward to what the future held for her life and most importantly being able to see how truly happy she was. Overall, it was a lovely afternoon. That was until the “word that rhymes with hour” took a drastic turn for me.
Amongst the chatter a woman seated across the table from me leaned over, and in what I can only assume was an attempt to get to know me better, decided to open her line of questioning with, “So are you married as well?” Now to be fair, I was sitting among a group of married or engaged women (which is my reality 99.9% of the time), so I can understand why one may ask that particular question. Being one of the only remaining single girls in my group of friends, trust me when I say that I’m extremely familiar with this territory. So just as I have millions of times before, I let the married/relationship question quickly slide off my back.
So when does the rage filled hammer drop you wonder? We’re about to get there.
It wasn’t her opener that got me all hot under the collar, but her follow up question that flipped my switch from happily sipping on my cocktail to annoyed as fuck. Apologies - I should have started this piece with a warning that explicit language would likely be heavily used throughout my commentary. For all those with an aversion to swearing, I suggest you step away from the screen.
Needless to say, I answered the nice lady’s question by explaining to her that no, I was in fact single and not married. What happened next can only be described as the atomic bomb of responses; it was merciless and destroyed everything in its path in a matter of mere seconds. After hearing of my singleness, the woman tilted her head to the side ever so slightly, crinkled up her nose a wee bit, shot me a “poor single girl” smile and said, “Ohhhhhhh, well that’s okay too.”
She side head tilted me into a heaping pile of single shame.
What. The. Actual. Fuck.
What followed were the toughest 30 seconds of my life, because instead of flashing her a fake smile and responding with, “Thanks, it’s been working out pretty well for me so far,” what I really wanted to do was jump across the table and throat punch her.
As the afternoon continued and I replayed the incident that will from this moment forward be referred to as the side head tilt heard round the world, my rage grew. Here I was, an intelligent, strong, creative and successful woman who has built a life for myself that I’m rather proud of and the only piece of intel that this lady was interested in was my marital status.
She didn’t ask me if I lived in the city, whether I had travelled anywhere recently, if I had any hobbies, and God forbid she even think about asking me what I did for a living. All she wanted to know was whether she could place me into a tiny box labeled “figured out” that society dictates women of a certain age are supposed to be in. Married, with a house and 2.5 children.
Now, I understand that this is my story and it’s told through the unmistakable lens of a young single woman, but the fact is that EVERY woman has their own struggles, their own daily battles and their own set of circumstances that can sometimes feel overwhelming. No one is perfect. The lenses might be different, but with some effort we can make an attempt to TRY and see through them a little more clearly. How do we do that? I believe it begins with empathy.
Recognizing, appreciating and celebrating one another from exactly where we are.
While I’m a single woman, my world is filled with couples and babies and families. It would be the understatement of the century to say that my friends who are married with children amaze me. These are women who work, who make time for their friends, who hit the gym everyday, who accomplish the millions of items on their to-do lists, all the while taking care of and shaping the lives of tiny little humans. While I can’t personally understand the amount of energy, dedication, and sheer will that it takes for them to do what they do on a daily basis, what I can do is empathize.
Empathy is key.
Empathize with the young girl who decides to wear only a sports bra to the gym instead of a shirt. What we might be quick to judge as a shallow attempt to garner attention from the opposite sex, could simply be a young girl living out the image what of society has told her a woman should look like in order to be viewed as attractive. She might just be in need of a better role model. That role model could be you.
Empathize with the single girl who is constantly bombarded with questions about her relationship status. What you might perceive as a polite answer to a harmless question, is really an attempt to hide her rage, because in her mind you’ve insinuated that her accomplishments to date are not valid unless accompanied by a man. She might just be in need of someone to tell her “fuck what society thinks and keep being your badass self.” That someone could be you.
Empathize with the mother who spends all day taking care of and reasoning with tiny humans who have the capability of exploding into outbursts of epic proportions simply because you gave them the wrong colour sippy cup. What you might view as a daily life that is filled with cute baby smiles and adorable outfits that never get dirty, most definitely also includes moments of frustration and utter exhaustion. She might just need someone to let her vent OR even better, to watch her children for an hour while she takes a minute for herself. That babysitter could be you.
Whatever the case may be, I beg of you ladies, let’s save the judgment, the analysis and the scrutiny for someone else and instead celebrate each other. For as far as we have come, these are still not easy times for women. We have glass ceilings, pressures to conform to unrealistic body image standards, and wage gaps to deal with; not to mention leaders of the free world thinking it’s okay to run around grabbing us by our lady parts. Need I say more? Women have serious issues to battle against in modern society, “other women” should not be an action item on that list.
I don’t have all of the answers, but I know that we need to start somewhere. Take the time to inspire the women around you. Help to build their self-confidence instead of tearing them down to boost your own. Whether it’s surviving the day with a newborn child, making it through yet another stressful workday, or deciding not to settle for anything less than they deserve.
Recognize, appreciate and celebrate one another from exactly where we are.
Do it fiercely and without question, because only a woman knows what it’s like to walk in a woman’s shoes. I believe that I speak for more than just myself in saying that I for one would love to know that I have a tribe of sisters in my corner as I step out the front door each morning in my pursuit of taking over the world.
Empathy ladies, let’s try it on for size.
According to Nics…
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Part 6. Action
Part 6- Action
6a. Investigation of 5 Household Personal Care Products
1. Secret Women’s Deodorant
According to EWG, some high risks of my deodorant are organ system toxicity, persistence and bioaccumulation (2019). Some moderate concerns are contamination of irritation of the skin, eyes or lungs (EWG 2019). Some low risks include enhanced skin absorption, cancer, endocrine disruption, and neurotoxicity (EWG 2019). The most hazardous ingredient was the ingredients for fragrance, they scored an 8 on the list which falls in the category of “high risk” (EWG 2019).
2. Garnier Whole Blends Coconut Oil & Cocoa Butter Smoothing Oil
High risks of this product I use for my hair included persistence and bioaccumulation (EWG 2019). Moderate concerns included irritation of the skin, eyes, or lungs, and organ system toxicity (EWG 2019). Some low risks included cancer, endocrine disruption, and neurotoxicity (EWG 2019). Again, the most hazardous ingredient was the ingredients for fragrance which also scored an 8 on the hazardous scale (EWG 2019).
3. Garnier Fructis Triple Nutrition leave in conditioner
The highest concern for my leave in conditioner is irritation of the skin, eyes, or lungs (EWG 2019). Moderate concerns were contamination and organ system toxicity (EWG 2019). Low risks included cancer and endocrine disruption (EWG 2019). Again, the most hazardous ingredient was the ingredients for fragrance which also scored an 8 on the hazardous scale (EWG 2019).
4. J.R. Watkins Lip Balm
High risks of my lip balm are persistence and bioaccumulation (EWG 2019). Moderate concerns were contamination, while low risks included enhanced skin absorption, cancer, and organ system toxicity (EWG 2019). All the ratings of the ingredients were scored 2 and below, meaning this product is relatively safe and low risk.
5. Dove Go Fresh Bar Soap
The highest risks for my soap are multiple additive exposure sources, irritation of the skin and eyes, persistence and bioaccumulation (EWG 2019). Moderate concerns include organ system toxicity, while low risks include enhanced skin absorption, and contamination concerns (EWG 2019). Again, the most hazardous ingredient was the ingredients for fragrance which also scored an 8 on the hazardous scale (EWG 2019).
References:
EWG’s Skin Deep Cosmetics Database. (2019). Retrieved from: http://www.ewg.org/skindeep/.
6b. Week of Purchase Analysis
I chose to analyze a week where I was focused on buying a gift for my sister’s birthday and doing some errands for myself, including Halloween costume hunting. I do not buy groceries since my mom and dad normally buy groceries.
Criteria for the week of purchase analysis:
Good- can be recycled (or is recycled), will be used for a long time or can be passed on to someone else to be used, getting a lot out of the object for my money’s worth.
Bad- not great for the environment, but is okay- part of it can be recycled, will be used for an average amount of time, getting most out of the object for my money’s worth.
Ugly- bad for the environment, cannot be recycled or re-used, uses/is made of harsh chemicals, used for a short amount of time/ not regularly, not getting a whole lot out of the object for my money’s worth.
Good:
Various kitchen accessories (electric mixer, bamboo cutting board, set of glasses, baking pans) $47.29
Cow ears (for my dog) $5.35
Plato’s Closet second hand clothes $44.73
Bad:
T-Shirt for Halloween Costume $3.93
Gift- bathrobe $44.79
Ball of wool $5.53
Ugly:
Air Fresheners $2.25
Face paint $2.39
Good total: $97.37
Bad total: $54.25
Ugly total: $4.64
I bought cow ears for my dog’s birthday from a pet store in Kildonan Place mall called Antler World. I had not gone there before, but my mom usually buys dog treats from there. I didn’t realize how environmentally friendly they were before I bought the cow ears. The cow ears had no packaging at all which I was very fond of. All of their cow and pig ears are from local farmers, and they also have these hard cheese blocks for dogs to chew on, and when they get too small for a dog to chew they can be microwaved where they puff up and the dog can still eat the entire cheese block. Nothing goes to waste, and I will definitely be buying more treats for my dog from that store.
Another change I would like to make is to not buy those big bulky air fresheners. I bought two of them for work, and I would like to look into either buying a more environmentally friendly kind of air freshener or make my own. The air fresheners don’t last that long, and I don’t think can be recycled. I would imagine there are a lot of chemicals in the jelly part of the freshener, and that will have a lot of bad impacts on mine and my coworkers’ health.
6c. Investigate Options and End Fate of Household’s E-Waste
Before having to answer this question for my blog, I have not given much thought to the fate of my household’s e-waste. It could very well be because my family doesn’t buy new electronics that often, but it is still something good to think about. After a first Google search to start investigating my options, I saw a commonly asked question in the typing bar that read: “Why should you recycle electronics?” and I was intrigued, because I didn’t even know why electronics should be recycled. I learned that when electronics are thrown into landfills, the chemicals leak into the soil which pollutes ground water and the air (JDog 2019). Electronics are also made of valuable components that can be recycled (JDog 2019). I decided to start my investigation with batteries since those are the most commonly used item in our household that I would consider e-waste. It turns out my family can recycle batteries at nearby places including East St. Paul, Oakbank, and stores that we normally shop at, like Staples and Home Depot (Call2Recycle 2019). That makes it very convenient to recycle batteries, as we do not have to go out of our way, we would just have to accumulate them until we go out to one of these stores. For all other e-waste, there are two locations close to my house, one in St. Clements and one on Earl Grey Road, both being under 10km away (Recycle My Electronics 2019). My dad also mentioned that he usually takes bigger electronics to the St. Andrews landfill (which again is very close to my house) where they keep the electronics separate until a company comes to pick them up.
A concern of recycling old electronics is a breach on personal information. Perhaps you want to recycle your old laptop or camera but forget to take off a few pictures or accidentally leave some documents behind. According to Dennis Neufeld, the executive director of EPRA (Electronics Products Recycling Association), when electronics are taken to recycling facilities they are taken apart and only the parts are re-used, so nobody will have access to your personal information (Michaels and Neufeld 2018). The workers at these facilities will wipe the electronic of all data so the parts can be re-used again (Michaels and Neufeld 2018).
A few weeks after responding to the question, I was browsing the contests on 99.9 BOB FM’s website and they had a contest regarding cell phone recycling. The contest is if you bring an old cell phone to be recycled you would get a ballot to enter to win tickets to a Jets game. This is a win-win for everybody involved, you have a chance to win something, and cell phones are recycled opposed to thrown out. I was really impressed by this idea. I think the contest closed on October 23rd, but here is a link anyway:
https://www.iheartradio.ca/99-9-bob-fm/contests/cell-phone-celly-1.10097915
References
Call2Recycle. (2019). Retrieved from: https://www.call2recycle.ca/locator/?l=r1a+3y7
JDog Junk Removal and Hauling. (2019). Retrieved from: https://www.jdogjunkremoval.com/2019/02/e-waste-disposal-the-importance-of-recycling/
Michaels, A. (Interviewer) & Neufeld, D. (Interviewee). (2018). How To Recycle Old Electronics In Manitoba. Retrieved from: https://www.943thedrive.ca/2018/04/18/how-to-recycle-old-electronics-in-manitoba/
Recycle My Electronics. (2019). Retrieved from: https://www.recyclemyelectronics.ca/mb/where- can-i-recycle/.
6d. Consider the sustainability of your household’s food system
My family tries to consume all the food we bring into the house. We cannot always do this because we are bringing in food at a faster rate than we can consume previously bought food and now this new food brought in. I think a big factor of throwing away as much food as we do is that it goes bad before we can finish it, and leftovers being shoved aside when new meals are made. My mom likes to buy fresh fruits such as strawberries, raspberries, and grapes, which I also enjoy. The problem with it is that sometimes if there’s a sale she buys too much, then we can’t finish all this fresh produce before it goes bad. Leftovers are normally shoved aside for fresh meals because freshly cooked, warm meals always taste better than leftovers.
To improve upon lessening our food waste, I think creating meal plans would be beneficial to help us reduce food waste. For example, before going grocery shopping the whole family would sit down and plan meals for the entire week. We would try our best to reuse leftovers by incorporating them into freshly cooked meals, so they have more appeal and will not be thrown away. For example, one night our family could have chicken thighs, rice, and frozen vegetables such as peas, then make enough to the next night we could make chicken fried rice out of all the same ingredients. That way it is using all the previous leftovers, and making a warm, freshly cooked meal. We can also repurpose fruit before it goes bad, like putting it into smoothies for breakfast, and making muffins, loaves or cupcakes out of them so they are still being consumed.
This plan would suit my household and everyone’s value systems. My dad gets upset over wasting food only because it is wasting money, but with meal planning it would be both decreasing our food waste and saving us money. It would be fantastic to have everyone help with the meal planning, that way everyone is included and contributing to our plan. The meal planning would also help the grocery shopper be concise in what they are purchasing and would hopefully stick to the grocery list. This meal planning would also be a great time saver in our busy lives, as we don’t have to waste time on figuring out what to make for dinner. Plus, with leftovers already fully cooked, it would just need to be reheated, therefore saving more time as well.
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What Should be in an EDC Bag?
Every Day Carry or EDC bags are about prepping on the smallest scale. You’re more likely to use what’s inside this kit than your food storage or bug out bags. So consider the most common emergencies and where your daily life takes you.
Have you made your bug out bag list? If so, you’ve packed enough supplies for three days. You’re ready for TEOTWAWKI (the end of the world as we know it) or just a natural disaster that chases you out of your own home. But realistically, you’re more likely to encounter an automobile accident or a friend who needs help, than forest fires or flooding. Proper emergency essentials take care of that with EDC bags.
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Parents of small children lug around diaper bags for hours spent outside the house. That’s an EDC bag for a baby. It prepares for whatever could go wrong. A diaper blowout? No access to healthy snacks? Perhaps it has a clean shirt for the parent in charge. (Those of us who have parented small children know how useful that can be.)
Think about what could go wrong during your day. While driving to work, you may see an injury accident. Someone could choke during lunchtime. Are you allergic to bees and must walk by a flower garden? How often do you need to stop and help someone? Does your blood sugar plummet when you’re stressed?
EDC bags are simple and discreet. They need to be easy to carry around, blend in with your appearance and surroundings, and be difficult to forget. A complex bag shouldn’t keep you from being prepared.
My EDC bag is my purse. Refusing to be the family carry-all whenever we went shopping, I’d limit my bag size to something that would warrant telling everyone to shoulder their own purchases. But little emergencies soon taught me to prepare. My husband asks for ibuprofen at least every other Sunday and my children complain of hunger before we even get home from church. A cut finger sends friends on long and fruitless quests for small bandages. Or I’d see someone who needed help lifting heavy objects but if I damage my hands too much I have to cancel a day or two at my massage therapy job. I need gloves more often than four shades of lipstick. And producing a bottle opener at a picnic can turn you into a short-time hero.
Of course, those small emergencies sparked my awareness for larger ones. If I was in a car crash, could I help myself and others with what I carry daily?
Photo by Shelley DeDauw
The Right Bag
I carry a small tactical backpack, mostly because that’s the kind of girl I am, but EDC bags can be simple or fashionable. What should you look for when choosing one?
Discretion – Preppers get ridiculed. I keep my first aid kit, glass-breaking tool, and mechanic’s gloves in a different pouch than my day planner to avoid questions. Office employees may not want to get asked why they have a flashlight and small spool of paracord instead of 10 different pens. Fear of public ridicule shouldn’t be a reason I’m not ready for emergencies. A good EDC bag looks like an everyday carry-all and has separate pockets and compartments so you can stash your emergency essentials out of sight and still have access to your schedule book or phone.
Easy to Carry – Save that frame backpack for your bug out bag. A smaller backpack holds what you need and still has room for textbooks and calculators. Plus, larger bags draw more suspicion when you enter places like banks or administrative offices. Your EDC bag needs to be something you’ll want to carry everywhere, not set down because it’s heavy and unwieldy. And once you’re past the teenage years, it’s time for people to stop asking you to leave your bag behind a counter while you shop.
It Fits “You” – My husband would get odd looks if he carried a camouflage backpack into the corporate office. My daughter’s pretty homespun purse with the sunflower design suits her perfectly. Whether it’s a leather laptop bag, a casual messenger bag, a purse, or a belt pouch, let your bag be as stylish or simple as you want. Because you are going to be the one carrying it. (Though, because I chose an army green tactical backpack, my husband isn’t ashamed to hold it while I’m trying on clothes.)
But why would preppers want to hide their emergency essentials? If you identify as a prepper, you probably have several reasons. We really don’t like being made fun of. We don’t want to draw suspicion when we’re not even breaking any laws. And we don’t want people to rifle through our belongings and remove items that we may depend on. We just want to be prepared when the time comes without any additional hassle.
Photo by Shelley DeDauw
The Right Contents
Your EDC bag may differ from mine. If your child has food allergies, you may include an epi-pen. A farmer’s EDC bag might have a spool of wire for quick fence fixes. Vary the contents based on your urban or rural environment, daily needs, and the needs of friends or family within your care.
The following list fits within a cosmetics or toiletry pouch and can slip into larger containers such as laptop bags. Small, portable kits allow you to switch bags as you wish. Though some websites prepare you for TEOTWAWKI, this one helps you overcome whatever happens in your everyday life.
Multi-tool – Chances are you’re going to need to cut or open something. A good multi-tool combines screwdrivers, bottle openers, files, picks and blades within a small and convenient unit. Many come with cases which keep debris from entering the workings. Some are the same size as credit cards and fit in your wallet. And unlike many knives, multi-tools are considered “tools” in almost every state or establishment except the airport and some federal buildings. Don’t spend too much on one, in case you don’t have time to return to your car before your flight leaves.
Bandana – They can cost less than a dollar and have many uses. Wrap a sprained wrist or ankle. Tie a red bandana to the back of oversized cargo. Or wave to signal for help alongside the freeway. Use as a cloth for hygiene or first aid needs. Soak with water to cool someone with heat distress. Tie up as a head covering, sunshade, or dust barrier. If you can, find an oversized bandana because it can also suspend an injured arm.
Non-perishable Food – Keeping food around solves problems from hungry children to insulin shock. But don’t pack just anything. It should stay edible in heat and cold, if it’s crushed or squished, and if you forget it’s there for several months. Good choices are dried fruits and nuts, granola bars with no chocolate, or envelopes of protein powder that can empty into water bottles.
Cash – Stash this in a place where it won’t be easy to find but where you won’t forget about it. An extra $20 can get you out of a lot of jams. Why not just keep a credit or debit card? Because cash can help you survive a mugging or can go to a stranger in need without risking your personal information.
Gloves – Keep two pair. One to protect your hands from hard work. And another to protect your body from pathogens. If you only keep one, your mechanic’s gloves can provide a minimal barrier against contaminated blood, but they don’t give you the dexterity necessary for first aid.
Alcohol or Hand Sanitizer – Though vodka has many uses, carrying a bottle of it could get you in trouble at work or during traffic stops. Choose isopropyl alcohol instead. And if even that causes problems, or you don’t want it leaking in your EDC bag, purchase hand sanitizer. Just keep it under three ounces so you can carry it onto airplanes.
First Aid Kit – A full trauma pack isn’t necessary, especially if it becomes so bulky you don’t carry it. Even an old prescription bottle can hold some bandages, a gauze pad, and a bundle of self-adhesive athletic tape.
Emergency Numbers in Your Cell Phone – 911 is easy to remember. But what about your child’s doctor, the poison control hotline, or even your senior dog’s vet? Keep the numbers easy to search, in case a coworker finds you unconscious and needs to inform your wife.
Phone Charger – We’ve all become dependent on our cell phones. But if the battery dies, we’re short on options. Packing an extra cell charger helps you, or a stranger with a compatible cell phone, as long as you can find an outlet somewhere.
Pen and Paper – Draw maps, send messages, or just write a note apologizing for hitting someone’s car as you transport an injured loved one to the hospital. Paper can also become tinder for emergency fires.
Photo by Shelley DeDauw
Space Blanket – Shock is deadly. And it doesn’t take a life-threatening accident to put someone into shock. Foil-type space blankets fold into tiny spaces but hold in a lot of heat. If you encounter an accident and first responders haven’t arrived, what are the chances you have a quilt in your possession?
Flashlight – Even penlights pack a lot of power these days, thanks to LED bulbs. A flashlight can help you cross an icy parking lot or signal for help if your alternator goes out on a rural road. Check the batteries every few months so it’s reliable when you need it.
Glass-Breaking Tool – This resource is often overlooked. Myth Busters studied claims regarding submerged cars and they found that it’s impossible to roll a window down because of the water pressure from the outside. But the window can be broken with the right tool. Thanks to the surging popularity of tough-looking tactical pens, more people carry tools to break through glass windows. But tactical pens aren’t legal everywhere because they can be seen as weapons. Rescue tools, more legal than Kubotan-like pens, have a seatbelt cutter plus a glass-breaking end.
Fire Starter – The simplest and most portable fire starter is a cigarette lighter. If you don’t smoke, you may need to call someone who does. Or you may need to start a fire to keep warm.
Rope or String – Twine, paracord, or survival bracelets are useful if you need to tie something up. You could secure a load in a pickup truck or secure an injured limb while transporting someone to the hospital. Secure twine or cord into a tight bundle so it doesn’t come undone and tangled up in your EDC bag.
Medications – Remember yourself and those in your care. Don’t get caught without your insulin; also, prepare for situations where you may race out the door and forget your daily prescriptions. Simple allergy medicine can save lives during a reaction. Aspirin can stop a heart attack. Even everyday ibuprofen feels like a lifesaver if you have to endure four more hours of an annoying meeting. If you pack extra doses of a prescription, keep it in its own bottle or carry a copy of the prescription. You may need to prove to law enforcement or airport security that a controlled substance has indeed been prescribed to you.
What About Water?
Many prepper sites don’t advise carrying water for the same reason I don’t have it in my purse. It’s heavy, bulky and the container can break or burst. If it leaks, much of my gear or daily supplies are ruined. It’s better to concentrate on sources of clean water or to pack water purification tablets. Keep bottles in your car. Even if they get hot in the summer, they won’t burst as long as there isn’t anything resting on or damaging the containers. If you have a habit of carrying water with you, purchase a container that clips to the outside of your bag with a carabiner.
It isn’t difficult to see why you should have an EDC bag or decide what to include in it. And once you have one, you can feel more secure knowing you’re prepared for inconveniences and emergencies.
Do you have an EDC bag? Tell us how you stay prepared day to day.
What Should be in an EDC Bag? was originally posted by All About Chickens
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Melanie Day’s Bucket List
Greetings, Wolo World, welcome to a very powerful edition of #BucketListsOfTheWorld. This week, we are excited to introduce you to an incredible woman named Melanie Day. She comes to us via her friend, Kathryn Turner, a college friend of Wolo co-founder Ray Collins. If you’d like to learn more about her message, follow Melanie on Instagram or check out her website, Five Years to Live.
Who are you, and what do you do?
I am a wife, a mother of 3, a former college athlete, and a terminal cancer patient. My husband and I recently moved to Utah to seek better health care. Our children are 6, 4, and 3. I played basketball competitively growing up in Southern California and had a successful college career at UCLA and BYU. I was diagnosed with breast cancer 4 years ago while I was pregnant with my 3rd child. I had chemo, radiation, surgeries, AND miraculously, a healthy baby boy! Eventually, I was declared cancer-free, but the cancer metastasized to my bones in 2015. I was then given five years to live. This prognosis has changed how I live my life. I decided to stop wasting time on things that don’t matter. I want to live life to the fullest and no longer delay my dreams. The things I’ve always said I’d do someday have become an urgent priority. Because I don’t know how many more somedays I’ll have. That is what I want to share with others: to live like you, too, have five years to live. To focus on what really matters. To take that dream vacation. To start that business. To tell that person how you REALLY feel. Because we don’t know when we will be taken from this life. Every day is a bonus day. So start checking off your bucket list!
What are three experiences currently on your bucket list?
(1) Girls trip to NYC and also Maine to see the Fall leaves. I've always wanted to spend a few days in New York with my best friends, going to shows and getting the good eats. Also, I've heard that seeing the fall leaves in Maine is a must.
(2) Go to Africa. It's been a place I've dreamed about going since I was a little girl. My mom spent a lot of time in Africa for work when I was younger so it's always been a fascinating place to me.
(3) Float down the Provo river. I realize that's not super exciting, but I spent a few years in Provo for college and I've always wanted to do it and never have. I live in Utah now so I'm hoping to cross this off this summer!
What are three awesome things you’ve recently checked off your bucket list?
(1) I was flash mobbed. My cousin and her coworkers surprised me while I was hanging out at a family fun center one day. They announced my name over the loudspeaker and had me come to the middle of the skating rink where they danced their choreographed routine for me. It was slightly awkward because I didn't know anyone besides my cousin performing, but it was so thoughtful that my cousin would organize it for me. Her company, Clearlink, filmed it and interviewed me after for their Out of the Blue program. I wanted to get flash mobbed because I've loved watching the youtube videos of people coming together to do this at malls or subways. It just seems so cool to me. So I guess I just want people to entertain me. For free. And I love the element of surprise.
(2) I attended the UNC at Duke basketball game in February. It was honestly the number one thing on my bucket list, but I never thought I'd actually get to go. The coaches at BYU heard of this being on my bucket list, so they decided to try to make it happen. Unbeknownst to me, they sent a letter to Coach K at Duke about my wishes and to everyone's surprise, he responded! The BYU coaches surprised me with the news in the locker room after one of their games. They also contributed money to us to fly my husband and I out to North Carolina, as well as money for a hotel and rental car. My week in North Carolina was like a basketball fantasy. I attended practice at both Duke and North Carolina. I met both Coach K and Roy Williams, as well as their staffs. I was able to enter the arena hours before the game started to watch the Cameron Crazies enter the building (which honestly was so fascinating and a highlight for me). I was given the best seats at the game, right next to Coach K's grandson. I even got a fist bump from Coach K right before tip-off! The game did not disappoint. And the atmosphere did not either. It was all and even way more than I had dreamed of. During the week that I was there, I was interviewed almost every day by a different news station. It was a bit of a news circus, but I was happy to share my story, what I've learned from cancer, and how BYU, Duke, and UNC were so kind to me. I met so many great people. One of them being former Tarheel and NBA great, Eric Montross, who actually invited me back for the rematch of the two teams in Chapel Hill. So not only did I go to my dream game once, but I flew back a month later for the rematch!
(3) I danced to Busta Rhymes, "Do the Bus a Bus," with my former UCLA teammates. After our NCAA tournament wins, this is what we did to celebrate in the locker room. Winning in the NCAA tournament is a feeling different than any in the world. If I could re-create that feeling on the daily, I wouldn’t have a bad day. And honestly that is my favorite song to dance to (the clean version, of course). I organized an event last November called the Bucket List Benefit Concert to raise money for our family to cross off bucket list items (in lieu of a gofundme type fundraiser to cover medical expenses). A couple of my UCLA teammates came and we danced to this song together once again.
What is one place everyone must have on their bucket list? Why?
A Lantern Festival. I attended the RISE Festival in Las Vegas a couple years ago, and it was so much more magical than I ever imagined. Watching 10,000 lanterns release into the sky at the same time was one of the most unbelievable things I've ever seen. The desert sky went from pitch black to glowing in seconds and I was totally overcome with emotion. (I actually couldn't stop bawling.) I think everyone should experience this magic. In fact, I'm taking my husband and kids to a lantern festival in Utah next week!
What experience have you've crossed off on your bucket list that scared you most? (Or have yet to cross off?)
Skydiving. I was actually joking when I put this on my bucket list because I'm deathly afraid of heights. But I recently spent some time in New Zealand with some friends who I knew would make me do things I was uncomfortable with. I decided to do it to face my fear.
What’s something you’ve done that wasn’t originally on your bucket list, but are excited to say you’ve accomplished?
I just spent two weeks in beautiful New Zealand! The landscape is full of rolling green hills, cows and sheep, just as I imagined. I visited Hobbiton, went skydiving, kayaked, hiked to waterfalls, biked, surfed, tubed through a glow worm cave, and was basically on a non-stop adventure.
What’s one of the most obscure, outrageous or far-reaching thing on your bucket list that you have yet to accomplish?
Write a book. May not seem that outrageous or far-reaching to most people, but it is to me. I want to do it even though it overwhelms me thinking about it.
Who is one person you want to share a Wolo experience with, and what would you do?
I'd love to go on a Mediterranean cruise and go train tripping around Europe with my husband. That's always been my ultimate dream vacation. We both used to live in Portugal, while serving as LDS missionaries. Neither of us have ever been back.
And finally... do you know what's on your best friend's bucket list?
No, I had to ask my two best friends. Here are their responses:
Jorja:
Have a cabin in the mountains by a lake.
Go on a humanitarian trip.
Jamie:
Duke UNC game (she came to the game with me and my husband).
White water rafting thru the Grand Canyon for 3 days.
Live in our beach house for an extended period of time.
Travel to assorted places.
Finish our yard and house projects.
Live in the mountains for an extended period of time.
Live in Europe for a month.
Thanks for reading about Melanie's experiences! Again, follow Melanie on Instagram or check out her website, Five Years to Live. And in case you want to add some of her experiences to your own bucket list, here are a few that you can add now:
Visit NYC
Visit Maine to See the Fall Leaves
Float Down the Provo River
Go to Africa
Get Surprised by a Flash Mob
Attend a Carolina-Duke Basketball Game
Attend a Lantern Festival
Visit Hobbiton
Tube through Waitomo Glow Worm Cave
Write a Book
Go Skydiving
Visit New Zealand
#bucketlistsoftheworld#wolo#bucketlist#newzealand#nyc#africa#duke#unc#lanternfestival#skydiving#waitomo#flashmob
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What Should be in an EDC Bag?
Every Day Carry or EDC bags are about prepping on the smallest scale. You’re more likely to use what’s inside this kit than your food storage or bug out bags. So consider the most common emergencies and where your daily life takes you.
Have you made your bug out bag list? If so, you’ve packed enough supplies for three days. You’re ready for TEOTWAWKI (the end of the world as we know it) or just a natural disaster that chases you out of your own home. But realistically, you’re more likely to encounter an automobile accident or a friend who needs help, than forest fires or flooding. Proper emergency essentials take care of that with EDC bags.
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Parents of small children lug around diaper bags for hours spent outside the house. That’s an EDC bag for a baby. It prepares for whatever could go wrong. A diaper blowout? No access to healthy snacks? Perhaps it has a clean shirt for the parent in charge. (Those of us who have parented small children know how useful that can be.)
Think about what could go wrong during your day. While driving to work, you may see an injury accident. Someone could choke during lunchtime. Are you allergic to bees and must walk by a flower garden? How often do you need to stop and help someone? Does your blood sugar plummet when you’re stressed?
EDC bags are simple and discreet. They need to be easy to carry around, blend in with your appearance and surroundings, and be difficult to forget. A complex bag shouldn’t keep you from being prepared.
My EDC bag is my purse. Refusing to be the family carry-all whenever we went shopping, I’d limit my bag size to something that would warrant telling everyone to shoulder their own purchases. But little emergencies soon taught me to prepare. My husband asks for ibuprofen at least every other Sunday and my children complain of hunger before we even get home from church. A cut finger sends friends on long and fruitless quests for small bandages. Or I’d see someone who needed help lifting heavy objects but if I damage my hands too much I have to cancel a day or two at my massage therapy job. I need gloves more often than four shades of lipstick. And producing a bottle opener at a picnic can turn you into a short-time hero.
Of course, those small emergencies sparked my awareness for larger ones. If I was in a car crash, could I help myself and others with what I carry daily?
Photo by Shelley DeDauw
The Right Bag
I carry a small tactical backpack, mostly because that’s the kind of girl I am, but EDC bags can be simple or fashionable. What should you look for when choosing one?
Discretion – Preppers get ridiculed. I keep my first aid kit, glass-breaking tool, and mechanic’s gloves in a different pouch than my day planner to avoid questions. Office employees may not want to get asked why they have a flashlight and small spool of paracord instead of 10 different pens. Fear of public ridicule shouldn’t be a reason I’m not ready for emergencies. A good EDC bag looks like an everyday carry-all and has separate pockets and compartments so you can stash your emergency essentials out of sight and still have access to your schedule book or phone.
Easy to Carry – Save that frame backpack for your bug out bag. A smaller backpack holds what you need and still has room for textbooks and calculators. Plus, larger bags draw more suspicion when you enter places like banks or administrative offices. Your EDC bag needs to be something you’ll want to carry everywhere, not set down because it’s heavy and unwieldy. And once you’re past the teenage years, it’s time for people to stop asking you to leave your bag behind a counter while you shop.
It Fits “You” – My husband would get odd looks if he carried a camouflage backpack into the corporate office. My daughter’s pretty homespun purse with the sunflower design suits her perfectly. Whether it’s a leather laptop bag, a casual messenger bag, a purse, or a belt pouch, let your bag be as stylish or simple as you want. Because you are going to be the one carrying it. (Though, because I chose an army green tactical backpack, my husband isn’t ashamed to hold it while I’m trying on clothes.)
But why would preppers want to hide their emergency essentials? If you identify as a prepper, you probably have several reasons. We really don’t like being made fun of. We don’t want to draw suspicion when we’re not even breaking any laws. And we don’t want people to rifle through our belongings and remove items that we may depend on. We just want to be prepared when the time comes without any additional hassle.
Photo by Shelley DeDauw
The Right Contents
Your EDC bag may differ from mine. If your child has food allergies, you may include an epi-pen. A farmer’s EDC bag might have a spool of wire for quick fence fixes. Vary the contents based on your urban or rural environment, daily needs, and the needs of friends or family within your care.
The following list fits within a cosmetics or toiletry pouch and can slip into larger containers such as laptop bags. Small, portable kits allow you to switch bags as you wish. Though some websites prepare you for TEOTWAWKI, this one helps you overcome whatever happens in your everyday life.
Multi-tool – Chances are you’re going to need to cut or open something. A good multi-tool combines screwdrivers, bottle openers, files, picks and blades within a small and convenient unit. Many come with cases which keep debris from entering the workings. Some are the same size as credit cards and fit in your wallet. And unlike many knives, multi-tools are considered “tools” in almost every state or establishment except the airport and some federal buildings. Don’t spend too much on one, in case you don’t have time to return to your car before your flight leaves.
Bandana – They can cost less than a dollar and have many uses. Wrap a sprained wrist or ankle. Tie a red bandana to the back of oversized cargo. Or wave to signal for help alongside the freeway. Use as a cloth for hygiene or first aid needs. Soak with water to cool someone with heat distress. Tie up as a head covering, sunshade, or dust barrier. If you can, find an oversized bandana because it can also suspend an injured arm.
Non-perishable Food – Keeping food around solves problems from hungry children to insulin shock. But don’t pack just anything. It should stay edible in heat and cold, if it’s crushed or squished, and if you forget it’s there for several months. Good choices are dried fruits and nuts, granola bars with no chocolate, or envelopes of protein powder that can empty into water bottles.
Cash – Stash this in a place where it won’t be easy to find but where you won’t forget about it. An extra $20 can get you out of a lot of jams. Why not just keep a credit or debit card? Because cash can help you survive a mugging or can go to a stranger in need without risking your personal information.
Gloves – Keep two pair. One to protect your hands from hard work. And another to protect your body from pathogens. If you only keep one, your mechanic’s gloves can provide a minimal barrier against contaminated blood, but they don’t give you the dexterity necessary for first aid.
Alcohol or Hand Sanitizer – Though vodka has many uses, carrying a bottle of it could get you in trouble at work or during traffic stops. Choose isopropyl alcohol instead. And if even that causes problems, or you don’t want it leaking in your EDC bag, purchase hand sanitizer. Just keep it under three ounces so you can carry it onto airplanes.
First Aid Kit – A full trauma pack isn’t necessary, especially if it becomes so bulky you don’t carry it. Even an old prescription bottle can hold some bandages, a gauze pad, and a bundle of self-adhesive athletic tape.
Emergency Numbers in Your Cell Phone – 911 is easy to remember. But what about your child’s doctor, the poison control hotline, or even your senior dog’s vet? Keep the numbers easy to search, in case a coworker finds you unconscious and needs to inform your wife.
Phone Charger – We’ve all become dependent on our cell phones. But if the battery dies, we’re short on options. Packing an extra cell charger helps you, or a stranger with a compatible cell phone, as long as you can find an outlet somewhere.
Pen and Paper – Draw maps, send messages, or just write a note apologizing for hitting someone’s car as you transport an injured loved one to the hospital. Paper can also become tinder for emergency fires.
Photo by Shelley DeDauw
Space Blanket – Shock is deadly. And it doesn’t take a life-threatening accident to put someone into shock. Foil-type space blankets fold into tiny spaces but hold in a lot of heat. If you encounter an accident and first responders haven’t arrived, what are the chances you have a quilt in your possession?
Flashlight – Even penlights pack a lot of power these days, thanks to LED bulbs. A flashlight can help you cross an icy parking lot or signal for help if your alternator goes out on a rural road. Check the batteries every few months so it’s reliable when you need it.
Glass-Breaking Tool – This resource is often overlooked. Myth Busters studied claims regarding submerged cars and they found that it’s impossible to roll a window down because of the water pressure from the outside. But the window can be broken with the right tool. Thanks to the surging popularity of tough-looking tactical pens, more people carry tools to break through glass windows. But tactical pens aren’t legal everywhere because they can be seen as weapons. Rescue tools, more legal than Kubotan-like pens, have a seatbelt cutter plus a glass-breaking end.
Fire Starter – The simplest and most portable fire starter is a cigarette lighter. If you don’t smoke, you may need to call someone who does. Or you may need to start a fire to keep warm.
Rope or String – Twine, paracord, or survival bracelets are useful if you need to tie something up. You could secure a load in a pickup truck or secure an injured limb while transporting someone to the hospital. Secure twine or cord into a tight bundle so it doesn’t come undone and tangled up in your EDC bag.
Medications – Remember yourself and those in your care. Don’t get caught without your insulin; also, prepare for situations where you may race out the door and forget your daily prescriptions. Simple allergy medicine can save lives during a reaction. Aspirin can stop a heart attack. Even everyday ibuprofen feels like a lifesaver if you have to endure four more hours of an annoying meeting. If you pack extra doses of a prescription, keep it in its own bottle or carry a copy of the prescription. You may need to prove to law enforcement or airport security that a controlled substance has indeed been prescribed to you.
What About Water?
Many prepper sites don’t advise carrying water for the same reason I don’t have it in my purse. It’s heavy, bulky and the container can break or burst. If it leaks, much of my gear or daily supplies are ruined. It’s better to concentrate on sources of clean water or to pack water purification tablets. Keep bottles in your car. Even if they get hot in the summer, they won’t burst as long as there isn’t anything resting on or damaging the containers. If you have a habit of carrying water with you, purchase a container that clips to the outside of your bag with a carabiner.
It isn’t difficult to see why you should have an EDC bag or decide what to include in it. And once you have one, you can feel more secure knowing you’re prepared for inconveniences and emergencies.
Do you have an EDC bag? Tell us how you stay prepared day to day.
What Should be in an EDC Bag? was originally posted by All About Chickens
0 notes
Text
What Should be in an EDC Bag?
Every Day Carry or EDC bags are about prepping on the smallest scale. You’re more likely to use what’s inside this kit than your food storage or bug out bags. So consider the most common emergencies and where your daily life takes you.
Have you made your bug out bag list? If so, you’ve packed enough supplies for three days. You’re ready for TEOTWAWKI (the end of the world as we know it) or just a natural disaster that chases you out of your own home. But realistically, you’re more likely to encounter an automobile accident or a friend who needs help, than forest fires or flooding. Proper emergency essentials take care of that with EDC bags.
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Parents of small children lug around diaper bags for hours spent outside the house. That’s an EDC bag for a baby. It prepares for whatever could go wrong. A diaper blowout? No access to healthy snacks? Perhaps it has a clean shirt for the parent in charge. (Those of us who have parented small children know how useful that can be.)
Think about what could go wrong during your day. While driving to work, you may see an injury accident. Someone could choke during lunchtime. Are you allergic to bees and must walk by a flower garden? How often do you need to stop and help someone? Does your blood sugar plummet when you’re stressed?
EDC bags are simple and discreet. They need to be easy to carry around, blend in with your appearance and surroundings, and be difficult to forget. A complex bag shouldn’t keep you from being prepared.
My EDC bag is my purse. Refusing to be the family carry-all whenever we went shopping, I’d limit my bag size to something that would warrant telling everyone to shoulder their own purchases. But little emergencies soon taught me to prepare. My husband asks for ibuprofen at least every other Sunday and my children complain of hunger before we even get home from church. A cut finger sends friends on long and fruitless quests for small bandages. Or I’d see someone who needed help lifting heavy objects but if I damage my hands too much I have to cancel a day or two at my massage therapy job. I need gloves more often than four shades of lipstick. And producing a bottle opener at a picnic can turn you into a short-time hero.
Of course, those small emergencies sparked my awareness for larger ones. If I was in a car crash, could I help myself and others with what I carry daily?
Photo by Shelley DeDauw
The Right Bag
I carry a small tactical backpack, mostly because that’s the kind of girl I am, but EDC bags can be simple or fashionable. What should you look for when choosing one?
Discretion – Preppers get ridiculed. I keep my first aid kit, glass-breaking tool, and mechanic’s gloves in a different pouch than my day planner to avoid questions. Office employees may not want to get asked why they have a flashlight and small spool of paracord instead of 10 different pens. Fear of public ridicule shouldn’t be a reason I’m not ready for emergencies. A good EDC bag looks like an everyday carry-all and has separate pockets and compartments so you can stash your emergency essentials out of sight and still have access to your schedule book or phone.
Easy to Carry – Save that frame backpack for your bug out bag. A smaller backpack holds what you need and still has room for textbooks and calculators. Plus, larger bags draw more suspicion when you enter places like banks or administrative offices. Your EDC bag needs to be something you’ll want to carry everywhere, not set down because it’s heavy and unwieldy. And once you’re past the teenage years, it’s time for people to stop asking you to leave your bag behind a counter while you shop.
It Fits “You” – My husband would get odd looks if he carried a camouflage backpack into the corporate office. My daughter’s pretty homespun purse with the sunflower design suits her perfectly. Whether it’s a leather laptop bag, a casual messenger bag, a purse, or a belt pouch, let your bag be as stylish or simple as you want. Because you are going to be the one carrying it. (Though, because I chose an army green tactical backpack, my husband isn’t ashamed to hold it while I’m trying on clothes.)
But why would preppers want to hide their emergency essentials? If you identify as a prepper, you probably have several reasons. We really don’t like being made fun of. We don’t want to draw suspicion when we’re not even breaking any laws. And we don’t want people to rifle through our belongings and remove items that we may depend on. We just want to be prepared when the time comes without any additional hassle.
Photo by Shelley DeDauw
The Right Contents
Your EDC bag may differ from mine. If your child has food allergies, you may include an epi-pen. A farmer’s EDC bag might have a spool of wire for quick fence fixes. Vary the contents based on your urban or rural environment, daily needs, and the needs of friends or family within your care.
The following list fits within a cosmetics or toiletry pouch and can slip into larger containers such as laptop bags. Small, portable kits allow you to switch bags as you wish. Though some websites prepare you for TEOTWAWKI, this one helps you overcome whatever happens in your everyday life.
Multi-tool – Chances are you’re going to need to cut or open something. A good multi-tool combines screwdrivers, bottle openers, files, picks and blades within a small and convenient unit. Many come with cases which keep debris from entering the workings. Some are the same size as credit cards and fit in your wallet. And unlike many knives, multi-tools are considered “tools” in almost every state or establishment except the airport and some federal buildings. Don’t spend too much on one, in case you don’t have time to return to your car before your flight leaves.
Bandana – They can cost less than a dollar and have many uses. Wrap a sprained wrist or ankle. Tie a red bandana to the back of oversized cargo. Or wave to signal for help alongside the freeway. Use as a cloth for hygiene or first aid needs. Soak with water to cool someone with heat distress. Tie up as a head covering, sunshade, or dust barrier. If you can, find an oversized bandana because it can also suspend an injured arm.
Non-perishable Food – Keeping food around solves problems from hungry children to insulin shock. But don’t pack just anything. It should stay edible in heat and cold, if it’s crushed or squished, and if you forget it’s there for several months. Good choices are dried fruits and nuts, granola bars with no chocolate, or envelopes of protein powder that can empty into water bottles.
Cash – Stash this in a place where it won’t be easy to find but where you won’t forget about it. An extra $20 can get you out of a lot of jams. Why not just keep a credit or debit card? Because cash can help you survive a mugging or can go to a stranger in need without risking your personal information.
Gloves – Keep two pair. One to protect your hands from hard work. And another to protect your body from pathogens. If you only keep one, your mechanic’s gloves can provide a minimal barrier against contaminated blood, but they don’t give you the dexterity necessary for first aid.
Alcohol or Hand Sanitizer – Though vodka has many uses, carrying a bottle of it could get you in trouble at work or during traffic stops. Choose isopropyl alcohol instead. And if even that causes problems, or you don’t want it leaking in your EDC bag, purchase hand sanitizer. Just keep it under three ounces so you can carry it onto airplanes.
First Aid Kit – A full trauma pack isn’t necessary, especially if it becomes so bulky you don’t carry it. Even an old prescription bottle can hold some bandages, a gauze pad, and a bundle of self-adhesive athletic tape.
Emergency Numbers in Your Cell Phone – 911 is easy to remember. But what about your child’s doctor, the poison control hotline, or even your senior dog’s vet? Keep the numbers easy to search, in case a coworker finds you unconscious and needs to inform your wife.
Phone Charger – We’ve all become dependent on our cell phones. But if the battery dies, we’re short on options. Packing an extra cell charger helps you, or a stranger with a compatible cell phone, as long as you can find an outlet somewhere.
Pen and Paper – Draw maps, send messages, or just write a note apologizing for hitting someone’s car as you transport an injured loved one to the hospital. Paper can also become tinder for emergency fires.
Photo by Shelley DeDauw
Space Blanket – Shock is deadly. And it doesn’t take a life-threatening accident to put someone into shock. Foil-type space blankets fold into tiny spaces but hold in a lot of heat. If you encounter an accident and first responders haven’t arrived, what are the chances you have a quilt in your possession?
Flashlight – Even penlights pack a lot of power these days, thanks to LED bulbs. A flashlight can help you cross an icy parking lot or signal for help if your alternator goes out on a rural road. Check the batteries every few months so it’s reliable when you need it.
Glass-Breaking Tool – This resource is often overlooked. Myth Busters studied claims regarding submerged cars and they found that it’s impossible to roll a window down because of the water pressure from the outside. But the window can be broken with the right tool. Thanks to the surging popularity of tough-looking tactical pens, more people carry tools to break through glass windows. But tactical pens aren’t legal everywhere because they can be seen as weapons. Rescue tools, more legal than Kubotan-like pens, have a seatbelt cutter plus a glass-breaking end.
Fire Starter – The simplest and most portable fire starter is a cigarette lighter. If you don’t smoke, you may need to call someone who does. Or you may need to start a fire to keep warm.
Rope or String – Twine, paracord, or survival bracelets are useful if you need to tie something up. You could secure a load in a pickup truck or secure an injured limb while transporting someone to the hospital. Secure twine or cord into a tight bundle so it doesn’t come undone and tangled up in your EDC bag.
Medications – Remember yourself and those in your care. Don’t get caught without your insulin; also, prepare for situations where you may race out the door and forget your daily prescriptions. Simple allergy medicine can save lives during a reaction. Aspirin can stop a heart attack. Even everyday ibuprofen feels like a lifesaver if you have to endure four more hours of an annoying meeting. If you pack extra doses of a prescription, keep it in its own bottle or carry a copy of the prescription. You may need to prove to law enforcement or airport security that a controlled substance has indeed been prescribed to you.
What About Water?
Many prepper sites don’t advise carrying water for the same reason I don’t have it in my purse. It’s heavy, bulky and the container can break or burst. If it leaks, much of my gear or daily supplies are ruined. It’s better to concentrate on sources of clean water or to pack water purification tablets. Keep bottles in your car. Even if they get hot in the summer, they won’t burst as long as there isn’t anything resting on or damaging the containers. If you have a habit of carrying water with you, purchase a container that clips to the outside of your bag with a carabiner.
It isn’t difficult to see why you should have an EDC bag or decide what to include in it. And once you have one, you can feel more secure knowing you’re prepared for inconveniences and emergencies.
Do you have an EDC bag? Tell us how you stay prepared day to day.
What Should be in an EDC Bag? was originally posted by All About Chickens
0 notes
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