#(and it has to have been in the 90s because it was definitely at the house we moved out of in 1999)

[putschki1969]

Hi Puts! YK just announced that Keiko will be not participated in YK Live #21 this year 😢 I'm kinda sad about this.

Okay, I didn't expect to have to use this gif so soon...

All jokes aside, this announcement is indeed very saddening and disappointing but I would be lying if I said I was super surprised.

Just a few days ago I addressed some possibilities for the future in THIS POST here and I was trying my best to remain optimistic despite knowing very well that Yuki had pretty much cemented her stance on the whole thing by releasing that initial statement. The way she positioned herself as the victim and everyone else as perpetrator was a clear message. By explicitly name-calling the members, it was made to look like Hikaru and Keiko were “aligning themselves with the enemy”. The Asia Tour probably couldn't be cancelled or re-arranged due to existing agreements/contracts but we didn't know how the Kalafina debacle would affect anything after that. Seems like we have our answer now. The girls have all officially fallen out of favour and are being considered as “Space Craft adjacent”. They are now in the same position as Wakana, nothing more than pariahs. Which means of course that everyone is now following the usual M.O. of ignoring each other’s presence. I'm not saying this is all coming from Yuki's side, there's a very high chance of the girls themselves being restricted in their activities due to contractual obligations (Space Craft most definitely made them sign something to make that Kalafina Live possible).

As discussed previously, we got our first glimpses of the shunning process when Yuki decided to distance herself on social media by unfollowing Hikaru and Keiko.

Then just a few days ago, a photo was posted from the recording studio and a certain someone was notably absent.

I guess Keiko's exclusion from the YKL is just a natural progression although I will honestly say that I didn't think Yuki would go that far, jeopardising the quality of her performances like that. Considering that her craft has always been her main priority, letting go of the literal backbone of 90% of her live music seems like a very stupid decision but I guess pettiness knows no boundaries in this ever-lasting feud between Team Yuki and Team Space Craft.

Oh well, needless to say, I won't be attending YK events any time soon. I don't hate her and I still appreciate her work but there's no longer any incentive for me personally. The girls have always come first and nothing will ever change about that. I am not Team YK or Team Space Craft, I am Team Kalafina and always will be! This just means I will have to support their solo activities even more and hopefully they will all increase their activities to give me lots of opportunities to show my appreciation.

As I mentioned in my post from a few days ago, nothing in life happens without a price having to be paid. Sacrifices need to be made, time has to pass. I am sure the girls were aware of most of these consequences when they decided to commit themselves to the Kalafina Anniversary Live project. Just like all these years ago, Wakana was aware what would happen if she stayed with Space Craft. The Japanese entertainment industry is not for the weak, shitty things happen all the time, you win some, you lose some. Hikaru actually shared some very good advice during her live broadcast from the other day. Life has a way of balancing itself out, for every bad thing that happens, a good thing will follow. And every rough experience might one day turn into an opportunity so I guess we can try to look at the whole thing with a more positive mindset. We don't know if this is permanent or not and we also have no idea what's in store for Kalafina so I refuse to despair because of it.

Speaking of Hikaru, she also mentioned that throughout her career, the main priority have always been the fans. I think this sentiment is shared by Keiko and Wakana which is why they ultimately decided to hold the Kalafina live, knowing very well that they'd have to pay dearly for their decision.

Of course they didn't think there would be such a harsh backlash in the initial phase but that was mostly fueled by Yuk's unfortunate phrasing in the statement. If she had refrained from mentioning the members, I don't think that there would have been such an outrage and immediate condemnation of the girls. Fans would have been upset but most of them would have simply blamed Space Craft and not the girls themselves.

Nonetheless, all that bitching and moaning from "some" fans didn't stop thousands of people from getting their ticket and showing up for the live. As far as I am concerned, the concert was a huge success and everyone there was filled with happiness. The girls must have surely interpreted it like this as well so hopefully, they felt like it was worth their sacrifice.

[chronurgy]

Taking a look at Dragon Age sales figures -

Origins - 3.2 million copies sold (as of Feb 2010, about 4 months after its launch)

Two - 2 million copies sold (as of two months after launch)

Inquisition - over 12 million copies sold (10 years post-release, unfortunately I can't find a more comparable time frame for sales)

Veilguard - 1.5 million "players reached" (about 3 months post-release, expectation for 3 million copies sold, unclear definition of players reached)

Awhile ago, when the generally positive critical reviews for veilguard came out, I said I was pretty sure bioware would be fine and would make it long enough to at least produce mass effect 5. Now, looking at these stats, I'm not so sure. Dragon age 2 was generally treated as a bit of a commercial flop for bioware, so seeing veilguard undersell it by a minimum of half a million units is not encouraging. Especially when it undersold ea's expectations for it by at least half. And I don't think ea's expectations were unreasonable! Three million in sales would put it in between the first two games and well below inquisition, the game it's a direct sequel to. That honestly feels a little odd, since it would imply that the studio didn't believe they picked up any new fans from inquisition's success.

I think that the 10 year gap was absolutely corrosive to the fan base. I understand why it happened on a development level, but it was an absolutely massive mistake. They completely lost the ability to capitalize on the excitement and name recognition inquisition generated as the incredibly popular game of the year for its direct sequel. Again, I completely understand what happened. I just think that all of the decisions that allowed this to happen (canceling project joplin, generally putting the series in the back burner, etc) were incredibly bad. They lost hype and momentum and ended up with far less in excitement and sales than they could have, especially since they lost a lot of long-time, key employees because of the development hell that ensued. This is on both bioware and ea. Bioware for their incredible mismanagement and just constant bag-fumbling and terrible working conditions and choices generally, and ea for allowing this to happen and generally pushing their studios toward a live-service model (plus all the other general ea fuckery).

It's also worth mentioning the "players reached" wording. That obviously doesn't mean the same thing as "copies sold," which likely means that the game sold less than 1.5 million copies. Admittedly, it's probably worth asking exactly how relevant sales numbers still are as we enter the era of game streaming services. It's genuinely hard to say, and that's going to be an industry-wide shift. But no matter how you slice it, the game clearly didn't do well commercially.

Looking toward the future, the first question has to be not what bioware will learn from this, but if bioware will even survive long enough to learn from this. They've had three poor releases in a row in an industry that isn't exactly forgiving. There have also been a few high profile departures recently, and while that might not be particularly unusual after a game launch, it can't be overlooked entirely. The studio is very much at risk of shutting down at this juncture.

But assuming bioware doesn't shut down, where do they go from here? What lessons will they learn from veilguard's failure? While it clearly wasn't a commercial success, it reviewed fairly well with a metacritic score of 82 (compare Andromeda's score of 71, Inqusition's of 85, origins' of 86, da2's of 79, and the Mass Effect trilogy's low 90s). Player reviews, on the other hand, were more mixed. Will bioware decide they made a good game and players just didn't get it? Andromeda and veilguard's writing definitely had some similarities, so maybe this is just the direction the studio has decided to go in and nothing will shake them from it. Or will they see the feedback and lurch too far in the opposite direction? They have a habit of doing that (they did it with inquisition after da2 and anthem's facial animations after Andromeda, for example). It could be that they decide it needs to be even more generic, even safer, to make sure they get the broadest possible appeal. It could be that they decide they need to double down on the nostalgia factor to attract the players of the older games. I don't know. I don't think anyone really does, at this point.

Honestly, I don't think bioware knows either. The studio clearly has a lot of issues that will take a lot of time, money, and introspection to fix. These issues are likely very entrenched in the studio's culture, and have been present for at least a decade, if not longer. And I don't know that bioware has the resources or the willpower to address them, given the circumstances.

[tartrazeen]

So I'm rewatching the scene, especially since @g0at0ad said there wasn't really anything wrong with Devon and Gabby's first meeting and I wanted to see how a rewatch would feel, and I'm noting three things right off the bat:

Her name's Gabby, and that's the shorthand they give to innies. So there's your proof right there.

This is her third pregnancy. Which probably means this woman's 90% of this woman's existence has been with her in active labour.

Devon asks how Gabby handles raising the kids, after just saying she 'didn't want to ruin only one child' (she's joking :P), and Gabby responds by saying, "A lot of help, I guess." That's probably cementing the fact that she does not get to see these kids afterwards. She's woken up for the pregnancy, then put back to sleep, and has no idea what happens to them in-between.

And - like. Damn. Definitely paints the picture of what she's had to experience.

Back to my first point, it's going kinda better between them on the rewatch. It seems friendlier now and less forced. But unless the second half shows me I missed a critical detail because I wasn't paying attention, I'm gonna dock the show a point for not getting it across too well the first time. Even if I can rewatch it, this doesn't seem like something I should have to rewatch. :/

So fingers crossed that I just missed something!

Edit: oh that was the whole thing.

Okay, yeah, it was a little better. Still really awkward (partly for narrative purposes, partly for character purposes), and still a little too awkward to not take 'no' as an answer when Devon runs into Gabriela, but:

Having seen the whole show, I finally think that Devon's weird insistence on talking to someone who isn't even reacting to her does fit her character. But I needed to watch the whole show first to get that. First time around, it felt too jarring, since I didn't know her and Devon's pretty much the only character who's that extroverted. Once we spend more time with her in the later episodes, yeah, it fits. :)

The very, very initial reaction Gabby has to agreeing to let Devon in still felt slightly too... not curt, but maybe short? But that's absolutely what set the "Gabby's just forcing herself to be polite" vibe in my mind, because afterwards, yeah, she's polite but not really forcing it. But I was primed for her being unenthusiastic by that, and it got reinforced when Gabriela didn't wave back and I hadn't finished watching the show yet.

Gabby's evasiveness is clearer now too, which I was picking up on as a reluctance to talk to Devon. Again, something that only makes sense after rewatching the show, so I really was set up to fail with interpreting that conversation 🤣

It just goes to show how hard it is to balance foreshadowing with recontextualizing. Yes, I picked up that there was something else going on! But I didn't get to recontextualize the conversation as "Hey, my friend's not talking to me suddenly?" because it hadn't given me enough info about Devon or the story yet. 🤷🏽‍♀️ If I'd had more of one of those, I'd've probably been okay.

Okay.

Devon is a really mixed character for me.

Not in terms of personality - I like her, she's cool, we would get drinks and housesit for each other but she'd be a friend I kept in small doses.

But in terms of her role in the plot, I was so weirded out by her fixation on the senator's wife in the first season. It was second-hand embarassment when they met the first time, and worse at the park where she wouldn't assume the hint from that first time: she doesn't like you, go away. But Devon wouldn't let it go.

But now in the second season, she's fixated on what Mark's innie said about "she's alive," and even though it's the exact same "dude let it go" vibe, I am EXPLODING in delight that she's not letting it go

I can't get a read on her 🤣

[zuzu-romeave]

hornsby if the “certain angle” isnt brad realizing he’s aromantic im gona die

[seafoamsol]

fav brushes???? i go insane for ur stuff haufhdhhd

Here you go! These are just my CSP usuals. In photoshop, I tend to lean towards more square brushes. In procreate, I’m more likely to use hard round brushes. I could not explain to you why. It creates this really funny effect where you can tell what programs I used on different pieces, or if I swapped out at some point.

The palette knife blender is a new addition, but I’m definitely keeping it around. Color randomiser has been a staple for years, as well as imgjpg2.

[fellhellion]

I have a rich inner world abt both iterations of Miguel and the relationship to fatherhood <- literally just hc

[yaoiconnoisseur]

I’m feeling deeply unhappy with everything and I’m unsure if it’s due to stress or if it’s the depression

[mangled-by-disuse]

I mean. On TV, yes. I still have to assume, as I have done for my whole life, that watching F1 on-site is garbage because, like. those cars are doing 100-200mph there's no way in hell you can see what's going on besides ZOOM ZOOM ZOOMIE YEP THOSE WERE SOME CARS

“Abolish Golf”

Sticker spotted in Chicago, Illinois.

[fingertipsmp3]

I have found the most adorably weird Spanish textbook

[arolesbianism]

I need to make a new pmd story right now or I'll explode

[void-tiger]

Sometimes I am forced to remember how isolated I actually am and how this detrimentally affects being able to People IRL to try to fix that, and I just want to fucking scream.

[give-grian-rights]

SCREAMING i also love the fact that Nightwing's the name of a species in Wings of Fire . as of 2023 i definitely thing that a silly origin of Nightwing would've been a warrior oc . but i think in a few years time, him liking it from Wings of Fire would ALSO be great

Yes, Dick totally got his name from the Kryptonian legend.

[exeggcute]

none of this is new info, but you know I have the "loves to write lists and compile links" disposition, so I thought it might be helpful to share some of the tips I've seen about how to make sure you're sharing legitimate palestinian evacuation fundraisers and bundle all those tips into a single handy reference post.

this is a spreadsheet of legitimate ("vetted") fundraisers on tumblr.

this post explains how the people who maintain this spreadsheet confirm the legitimacy of each fundraiser they add.

this podcast episode ("yousef and the fourth move") explains why evacuation fundraisers are often organized by people who don't live in gaza and/or who may not be immediate relatives of the people trying to evacuate. it's part three of a series about a man named yousef and his family; parts one and two aren't required listening for part three to make sense, but if you have a few hours to spare then I wholeheartedly recommend listening to all of them.

this is the process that I personally have been using to check whether a particular fundraiser has been vetted:

spreadsheet method

open the vetted fundraisers spreadsheet.

inside this spreadsheet, open the "find..." menu. on a windows computer, this shortcut is ctrl+F. on a mac, this shortcut is cmd+F. on a mobile device, click the three dots menu in the upper right corner of your screen, then select Find and replace.

search for the last name of the person or family in the fundraiser. you may get several results because last names obviously aren't unique; keep hitting "next" until you've looked at all the results.

if you find an entry in the spreadsheet that has the exact same name and whose gofundme link leads to the same fundraiser associated with the blog, it's legitimate. if you don't find an entry in the spreadsheet that matches the blog's fundraiser, that does not mean it's a scam. try the next method below!

tumblr search method

copy the username of the tumblr who originally posted the fundraiser and/or sent you a message asking you to boost the fundraiser. (for example, username123)

paste this username into tumblr's search bar.

for best results, click the All types drop-down menu, then select Text. since the search page is often dominated by asks sent by username123 (which people then answer and tag with their username), this helps narrow things down a bit.

look to see if any people who are not username123 have made posts confirming that username123 is legitimate. this includes people who've reblogged fundraisers and added notes, people who've compiled masterlists, and people sharing hyperlinks to other posts confirming a fundraiser's legitimacy. if the message seems to be "yep, looks legit," then it's safe to assume it's legit.

this is not a comprehensive list, but here are some of the usernames I've seen associated with "yep, looks legit"-type posts and who I've come to trust by association. (disclaimers: I am not mutuals with any of the users, and not all of them do the vetting firsthand, but the ones who don't vet posts themselves still seem to be careful about what they share and therefore are a good lead to follow. also, don't bug these people to vet fundraisers for you unless they've specifically indicated that they're open to that.)

90-ghost

el-shab-hussein

nabulsi

appsa

northgazaupdates

retvolution

communistchilchuck

neptunerings

a-shade-of-blue

shimamitsu

neither of these methods yielded anything definitive; what now?

it may just be too early to tell. unless a trusted source has shared overwhelming evidence that a particular fundraiser is a scam (which seems to be a very very rare occurrence), the best thing you can do is ignore it. don't report their blog as spam, because there's a good chance it's a legitimate fundraiser who just hasn't been vetted yet.

[raceispunk]

Fight the nightmare government.

One of the interchangeable ghouls running in 2024 is talking up his plan to tie voting rights to passing a civics test & it's amazing watching people discuss this in neutral terms

A lot of the response to this is "oh, that's great, next let's restore civics education in schools", but the entire point is that they're not going to improve civics education. The age range gives a hint: this is a ploy to disenfranchise young voters, by, presumably, demanding they pass a test the state won't train them for in order to get rights granted by the states. It's like saying "oh, yes, literacy tests for voting makes sense, it'll really inspire the South to educate black people". It uh. Didn't. And I think many of the people agreeing know that and support it bc it's disenfranchising, but some seem to just agree bc it's "COMMON SENSE" and they're not digging any deeper?

This would be a civics test authored by a far right administration, to be clear. The tests we give immigrants are already propagandistic nonsense, imagine that in the hands of the "slavery taught people valuable skills" crowd

Also, his amendment would allow young people who can't pass the test to vote if they join the military. This is a "service guarantees citizenship" amendment

[quazies]

Well, the past week has been frustrating.

I’ll do my best to explain what’s gone wrong, but I don’t blame anyone who can’t wrap their head around it, because it’s a confusing mess. 

Within the past couple weeks I’ve made a new Adsense account under my business info (new bank account, tax number, etc) and it’s been rejected. Without an Adsense account linked to your YouTube, you can’t make ANY money from your videos. Because of “policy” they can’t tell me the EXACT thing I’ve done wrong, so I get to play the guessing game and loose the majority of my livelihood in the meanwhile!! Yippie!!! Just what I needed while working on one of my longest most ambitious projects yet!!! 

I have savings so it’s not a complete emergency, I can penny pinch for the next 30 to 90 days, or however long they keep me from monetizing my animations again. Thanks to my amazing Patrons, I still have a safety net for when stupid stuff like this happens.

Please consider checking out my Patreon while this BS is happening. I have 50 pages of storyboards up for my newest Godzilla animation, Character sheets, and when storyboarding wraps up I’ll be posting animation sneak peeks as well. Any support is greatly appreciated, and overall I just wanted folks to be aware of the situation. YouTube seems to enjoy finding new ways to disappoint me! I hope to one day reach my Patreon goal so I don’t have to feel so reliant on them to do what I love: making cartoons for you guys. I’ve had multiple situations of YouTube being unhelpful and this is definitely the worst case yet.

If you’re still reading, thanks for hearing me out, and if you’d like to check out the Patreon, it’s linked in my bio. Thank you guys as always, and thanks for watching my cartoons!

[stevesgother]

Chalkboard Hearts - S.H

Pairing - KindergartenTeacher!Steve Harrington x Fem!Mom!Reader

WC - 4.3k

Contains - strangers to friends to lovers, slowburn, so much fluff, teacher!steve and mom!reader. No descriptions are given of reader or abbey, other than that abbey has curly hair, steve and reader are the same age (about 24-25), set early-mid 90's

AN - i don’t write for kids often so i hope this reads well and is realistic. i don’t have a clear end for this series in mind, so i’m gonna keep writing it for as long as y’all want it :) feel free to send requests for blurbs for this AU if you so wish and as always, thank you - emma

“Moooooom,”

You hear a tiny voice whisper in your ear. Most mornings started this way, if not all of them. Whoever said getting children out of bed in the morning was difficult had clearly never met Abbey. Every day you peeled your tired eyes open to see the miniature version of them staring back at you, the only difference being they were much wider, and lacking the distinct fog of leftover sleep.

Today her hair was sticking up in all different directions; frizzy curls here and tangled knots there. Your daughter takes after you in many ways, one being that she’s an active sleeper and it shows when she wakes up. Her bed was always disheveled; embroidered blankets strewn across her bedroom floor and little red lines indented in her cheeks where they had been smushed against her pillow.

“Mornin’ Ab,” you say, voice gravelly with disuse. “Have you made your bed yet?” you eye her suspiciously.

You know she hasn’t and she confirms as much when she spins on her heel and dashes for her room down the hall. Truthfully, you couldn’t care less if her bed was made or not, it was merely a guise to buy you a few extra minutes of peace and quiet each morning.

︵୨୧︵

When she doesn’t reappear, you assume she’s gotten distracted and decide to make your way downstairs to scrounge for something to eat. You never ate breakfast before you had Abbey; either for lack of time or because the smell of food so early in the morning made you nauseous. Eating three meals a day was just one bullet point on the long, running list of changes in your routine since becoming a mother.

Two bowls of Frosted Flakes were set out on the table after deciding there was no time for anything more nutritious.

“Abbey!” You call, “Breakfast!” 

You hear the sounds of sniffling and small feet padding on hardwood as she enters the kitchen– pouting. You try not to gape at the utter monstrosity of an outfit she's put on. She whines, “I don’t know what I want to wear!”

You sense a meltdown coming already, on today of all days. Pre-school was easy, as Abbey was a fairly agreeable kid. Or at least she used to be. Lately it felt like you had to battle her about anything and everything. 

“You look so beautiful, Ab!” you reassure her, attempting to deescalate the impending tantrum. She has on pink corduroy pants and a frilly forest green blouse. For accessories she’s sporting a chunky plastic necklace that definitely came with a dress-up kit, along with a tutu. You have no idea where the tutu came from.

Eventually she decides not to fight you, at least not on her outfit. However, as she climbs into the kitchen chair, she scowls down at the soggy cereal in front of her and asks in the most darling tone she can muster,

“Can I have Scooby fruit snacks instead?”

“How about I pack some in your lunchbox today and you can eat them at snack time?” you try to barter.

Sneaking a glance at the clock, it mocks you with its unforgiving hands– you’re going to be late and your daughter will have skipped supposedly the most important meal of the day. Some mother you are.

“But I want them right now!” Her petite fists bang against the wooden table and she’s a heap of dramatics wriggling in her chair.

“Hey, what did we talk about? Yelling is not nice, even when we’re frustrated. Right?” She acknowledges you with a teary nod along with more crying and petulant moaning that can be heard as you run to the bathroom and grab a hairbrush with two bows. When you return, she’s still moping over her breakfast, but taking bites nonetheless. A win is a win.

You begin detangling the mess of knots and snarls at the back of her head. “Ouch, Mommy!” she cries when you try to comb through a particularly tangled section.

You place one of your hands over the crown of her head like a claw in a poor attempt at keeping her from squirming, “The more you move the longer it takes, sweetheart,” 

“Hmph.” she pouts, folding her arms over her chest. When all is said and done, your daughter has her hair parted and tied into two high pigtails, secured with little pink bows, and you’re rushing her out of the front door with haste.

︵୨୧︵

In all the hubbub, you realize you’ve barely gotten yourself ready. Reaching over to buckle Abbey into her carseat, she asks,

“When can I sit up front with you?”

“When you’re this many,” You hold out both your hands to display all ten fingers.

She mimics you with her own smaller fingers, “Ten?”

“That’s right!” You smack a kiss on the crown of her head as you pull back, she smells like her strawberry scented shampoo.

“Watch your feetsies,” you warn and she tucks her legs unnecessarily far into her chest as you close the door. 

The ride is filled with the usual nonsensical ramblings of a five-year-old. She beams back at you through the rearview mirror, eyes sparkling and nodding fervently when you ask if she’s excited to make some new friends today. Your social butterfly, the complete antithesis of you. 

The elementary school is only a few miles from your home, and before you know it you’re circling a crowded parking lot and preparing to drop your only child off for her first day of kindergarten. The rush of emotions you feel are indecipherable, something like a mix of somberness, excitement, relief, and anxiety.

As you walk towards the front of the building, you’re surrounded by dozens of kids aged five through twelve greeting their teachers and saying ‘Hello’ to friends they haven’t seen all summer. The teachers are holding laminated signs that indicate their name and what grade they teach; thank God for that. Abbey’s little fist squeezes around your index finger and you can tell she’s becoming nervous, despite her previous unbridled anticipation.

“Hey, it’s okay,” You assure, “Look, I think that’s your teacher right there,” you point towards a tall, brunette man standing near the double doors.

A shy smile tugs at the corners of her lips when she sees the teacher in question. He’s dressed in a striped button-down shirt and khakis, with a lanyard dangling from his front pocket; the typical teacher attire.The sign he’s holding reads, ‘Mr. Harrington’ and just below that, ‘Kindergarten’ with a little cartoon apple printed next to his name. He looks young compared to the rest of the staff, closer to your own age. This must be his first year teaching.

As you approach him, Abbey treks in front, eager to meet him. Her backpack is adorned with sparkly butterflies and it covers nearly her entire torso; bumping the backs of her knees with every step she takes.

The man crouches down to her level and greets her, “Hey there,” he offers a warm smile, “what’s your name?”

“Abbey,” she says timidly, twiddling her fingers and flashing a toothy grin at him. She doesn’t bother with her last name, honestly you’re not positive that she even knows it.

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Abbey,” he holds a gentle hand out for her to shake and she does so hesitantly, “My name’s Mr. Harrington, and I’m going to be your teacher this year. How does that sound?” The way he’s so patient and attentive with her stirs something within you that you haven’t felt in years, but he’s a teacher, for goodness sake. He looks up then, locking eyes with you and rising back to his full height.

This time, it’s your turn to shake his hand. “I’m Steve.”  He flashes you a smile directly out of a Colgate ad and you hope you’re not blushing as much as you feel like you are.

You must look nervous because he immediately assures you that Abbey’s in good hands this year. “We’re having an open house tonight, I hope to see you both there,”

You glance at your daughter, “What’d you think, Ab? That sound fun?”

“Yes!” She squeals and almost falls over from the weight of her backpack.

“Okay then,” With that, you crouch down to give Abbey one final hug. It’s clear that she’s itching to go socialize with the other kids, so you try not to delay her with your sappiness.

“Be good today, okay?” you give her a tight squeeze and a smacking kiss on her little cheek, “I’ll be back to get you at two-forty-five.”

“What will the clock say?” She asks inquisitively. Her favorite question.

“It’ll say ‘two-four-five’,” She nods in understanding, “But I bet you’ll be having so much fun that you won’t even remember to look.”

She’s already on her way to the door when she calls, “Love you, mommy!” and blows you a kiss with her lips puckered. You blow her one back and fight the tears threatening to surface. When did she get so big?

A pang of insecurity settles in your chest when you chance a look around and see all the children accompanied by two parents. You begin the walk back to your sedan before the thought has a chance to fester.

︵୨୧︵

Six hours goes by alarmingly fast when it’s spent running around your house in a frenzy, trying to catch up on all the cleaning you aren’t able to do when there’s a rampant five-year-old on the loose, making a brand new mess where you just cleaned an old one.

Before you can even register the time has passed, it's two o’clock and you need to pick Abbey up in a mere forty five minutes. Looking around your house, you feel satisfied with the progress you were able to make on tidying and call it a day.

This time, you decide to try and appear more presentable before visiting the school, and firmly remind yourself that it has nothing to do with how flustered your daughter’s kindergarten teacher makes you. By the time you’re dressed and have pulled your hair up into a halfway decent top knot; it’s time to go.

︵୨୧︵

The line for pickup wraps around the front of the building, aided by crossing guards and supervised by a few teachers. Twenty minutes into waiting, you regret not having gotten here a little sooner. ‘Tomorrow’ you think. Soon, you catch sight of two little pigtails bobbing up and down as your Abbey skips over to you, grinning ear to ear while Steve watches from the doors she just exited.

“Mommy!” she shouts as she bounds towards you. You place the car in park and run around to greet her.

“Hi, Bug!” you exclaim as you bend at the waist to pick her up. She gives you a tight squeeze around the neck, and you catch a split second of Steve’s gaze over her shoulder before he’s disappearing back inside the school

Plopping her as gently as possible into her carseat and fastening the straps over her chest, her mouth is already moving a mile a minute– absolutely ecstatic to tell you all about the activities she got up to while you were gone.

“What is ‘open house’ ?” she asks, kicking her feet like she can’t possibly contain all the excitement inside her little body.

“It’s just a chance for all the mommies and daddies to meet your teachers,” you explain, “And you get to show me around your new school, fun right?”

Her face lights up like a christmas tree at the prospect, “Are we gonna go?!”

“Yes, but first we have to eat dinner. What sounds good?”

Without missing a beat, she yells a little too loudly, “McDonalds!”

You want to say yes, of course you do, but your shifts at the ER barely cover the minimum of your living expenses. Your resolve begins to crumble, however, when she looks at you with those saucer-round eyes, and her bottom lip juts out in the most precious pout. Who knew she could be so harmlessly manipulative?

“I don’t know, Ab. I think we have some chicken nuggets in the freezer at home, though,” you say, with an air of hopefulness that she might accept the compromise.

“Not the same,” she whines, “Please, Mommy! I’ll be extra extra good please–”

And with that, it’s over.

“Okay! Okay, fine,” you feign annoyance through a smile, “We’ll stop on the way home,”

You can still hear her squeals of excitement when you close the door and walk around to the driver's seat.

︵୨୧︵

Abbey dresses a little more cohesively for the open house than she did this morning. This time she’s clad in a thrifted pair of overalls overtop a little purple blouse. She leads you, hand in hand, inside the school like she knows exactly where she’s going– despite only having spent six hours here.

Steve’s classroom looks exactly how you’d expect. The walls are a light, mint green and it’s as if a character from Sesame Street threw up all over it. Abbey leads you to a reading nook in the corner of the room, surrounded by books and complete with several bean bag chairs, and proclaims this is her favorite spot. She shows you where her desk is– right in the very front of the classroom– and on it, a laminated sticker with her first and last name sits neatly near the top. The walls are lined with colorful letters in alphabetical order, accompanied with numbers just underneath them.

“Abbey!” you hear a familiar voice call, “I’m glad you and your mom could make it!” turning to you then, “I’m actually not sure I ever caught your name,” he chuckles awkwardly, clearly embarrassed by the fact that he doesn’t know it yet.

“Oh, it’s–” and before you get the chance to tell him, Abbey pipes up and tells him your first and last name with a confidence that she certainly didn’t have when it came to her own introduction this morning. You’re relieved that she feels so comfortable around him already.

He repeats your name back to you and holds out his hand for you to shake, “It’s nice to meet you,” You pay no mind to the way your heart beats a little faster in its cage at the sound of your name on his lips. His palm is surprisingly soft when you grasp it in your own.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” you grant him a polite smile, “Abbey could not stop talking about you on the way home,” you pinch her side, teasing, and she giggles in that contagious way that kids do.

“Is that so?” he feigns surprise when he looks at her.

“Nooo!” her giggles amplify as she becomes increasingly bashful.

He crouches down to meet her at eye-level, exactly like he did this morning, “Well, that’s a shame, because I think you might be one of my favorite students,”

Now, she’s a heap of laughter and has a blush spreading from the apple of her cheeks to the tips of her ears. You can’t help but feel enamored by how great he is with children, silently wondering if he comes from a big family, or if he has a child of his own.

“Did you introduce your mom to Nibbles?” he asks her when her laughing mostly subsides.

She gasps like she can’t believe she would’ve forgotten such a thing, then she hauls you by the arm over to a tiny cage on a table, presumably for an even tinier animal.

“Mommy, look! This is Nibbles,” She’s peering between the metal bars of the enclosure and encouraging you to do the same, when you lean in closer you see a small, tan gerbil sleeping in a little nest of bedding.

“He’s our friend and he helps us learn, so we have to be very careful with him,” she tells you with a sudden seriousness that's amusing to see displayed on such a young face. It’s obvious she’s parroting Steve.

You turn to see Steve observing from a few feet behind you, both hands shoved in his pockets, “I didn’t think teachers actually had class pets,” you breathe a huff of laughter.

“Oh, yeah,” he chuckles with you, “I brought him from home, actually. Figured he could use some socialization. With dozens of children.” he informs you sarcastically. God, he’s funny too.

“Wouldn’t have pegged you to be a hamster guy,” you tease.

“He’s a gerbil, first of all,”

“Right, sorry, my bad,” you smirk.

“No time for a dog, I guess,” he shrugs, “thought I could use the company,” he’s clearly still bantering, but there’s an underlying melancholy in his tone that you can’t quite place. Before you can think about it for longer than a second, an impatient five-year-old is tugging on your arm and begging to show you the library.

“Okay, alright,” you laugh, “better get to it, the library awaits,” you shoot him an apologetic look for having cut the conversation short. You feel less guilty, however, when you see more parents and children start to funnel into the classroom, busying him in yours and Abbey’s absence.

“See ya, “ he waves. 

“Bye, Mr. Harrington!” Abbey yells, already halfway down the hall. 

︵୨୧︵

In the library you have to shush Abbey several times, much to her dismay.

“We use our inside voices in the library, Ab,” you remind her for the fifth time. She frowns but it’s temporary when she spots her favorite section: the picture books. Abbey is ahead of a kindergarten reading level now, and it's one of her favorite hobbies, but you can still never go wrong with a good picture book.

You’re about to follow her when you hear someone call your name. 

You turn, “Stephanie?” you ask, puzzled.

“Oh my gosh! It’s been forever!” an old friend from your shared high school, Stephanie, pulls you into an unreciprocated bear hug. Squeezing and swaying back and forth for an awkward amount of time.

“Hey,” you draw out the last syllable and try to paint your voice with a nostalgic excitement, “How have you been?” you ask, even though you’re sure you’d rather be shot than continue this conversation.

You don’t know if you could really call Stephanie a ‘friend’, or if you ever could. The only reason she even knew your name being the shared, piranha-esq social circle you both ran in years ago. She reminded you of your past– who you used to be– someone who you’re not particularly proud of.

“Oh, I've been just fine!” She gestures wildly with manicured nails. Her lips are overlined and her hair is still damaged from bleaching and too many perms. Evidently, not a lot has changed. You ponder if she’s still the mean girl she always was underneath all that makeup, or if at some point in your adolescence she decided to mature.

“Todd and I just bought a house over on Maplewood, are you familiar?”

“Oh, no, not really– my daughter and I live across town,” You don’t like how ashamed you feel, “I’ve heard it’s beautiful over there, though,” you attempt to smile but it doesn’t reach your eyes.

“That was your daughter?” She’s trying not to sound taken aback and failing, “With–?”

“Yes,” Your teeth grit ever so slightly. You hate that she won’t say his name, as if speaking it into existence would somehow break you. Like you’re fragile.

“I was terribly sorry to hear about what happened, Hon,” Her sudden sympathetic tone irritates you, whether it’s genuine or not. You don’t need pity, especially not from Stephanie Nettles.

“It’s okay, Steph, really,” losing patience by the second, nothing about it was okay. “It was a long time ago, Abbey and I are doing fine,” you assure her.

“Oh,” she fawns as she presses her bony hands against her chest above her heart, “Can I meet her? Would you mind?" Her tone is saccharine sweet. You figure it can’t hurt, but when you turn around to retrieve Abbey, she’s not where you left her. The spot on the rug that she was previously occupying is empty and her book is abandoned on the floor.

“Abbey?!” Calling a little too loudly for the setting you’re in but you can’t bring yourself to care. You search row after row, it’s not a big library, and after every shelf you’re expecting her to be there– browsing novels and you’ll feel silly for overreacting.

But that doesn’t happen, and you realize with mild panic that she definitely left the library; somehow without you noticing. You suppose this is the safest place for her to go missing, but the thought doesn’t soothe you for long as you still have no idea where your daughter could be.

Stephanie is staring at you with concern, but still making no effort to help you locate Abbey. You don’t speak and neither does she as you rush out of the room and begin to pace the halls, still calling out for her. You check the bathrooms by the gym, a couple of empty classrooms that aren’t locked– she’s not there either.

When you’ve checked every available room and potential hiding spot in the near vicinity and still see no trace of her, that’s when the real dread sets in. What if she’d wandered outside and been taken? Or worse, there had been an accident and she’s hurt? She could be miles from here by now, she could be–

“I think this might belong to you,” a mellow voice rings out.

Steve and Abbey walk leisurely towards you, hand in hand. A complete contrast to the frazzled mess of anxiety you are right now. You hurl yourself in their direction and wrap Abbey up in a hug, lifting her off her feet.

“Oh my God, Abbey,” normally you’d be fuming at her for wandering off like that when you know that she knows better, but you can’t feel anything other than relief in the moment.

“Found her on the swings,” Steve continues, “Isn’t that right?”

Your relief does eventually morph to frustration, “You know better, Abbey Jane. Don’t stray off like that again. Do you understand?”

She succumbs to her guilt and you can tell her short-lived freedom has lost its novelty. “I’m sorry, mommy,” her little eyes well with tears. “The other kids were going to the swings, I wanted to go,” she pouts.

“We could’ve gone, baby, but you have to ask first, okay?”

Her meek response is muffled in the crook of your neck, “Okay,”

She’s still sniffling into your shoulder when you remember Steve is there, and your surroundings come back into focus.

“Thank you for finding her, Steve–”

“--His name is Mr. Harrington, mom,” she corrects like she can’t believe you’d embarrass her like that by calling her teacher the wrong name.

“--Mr. Harrington,” you stifle a laugh for your daughter's sake, sending him a knowing look.

He returns the expression, “Anytime,” he smiles, sweet . “Think that's enough scaring your mom for today, huh?”

Instead of acknowledging with words, she simply nods her head, eyes glued to the floor, ashamed.

“I think someones getting sleepy, might be time to head home,” you drag a gentle hand down her back soothingly.

“Will you carry me?” she asks too adorably to say no, despite her being ever-so-slightly too big for it. Grunting as you pick her up, you say, “Thanks, again,”

“No need,” he ruffles Abbey’s head lightly as you pass, “See you tomorrow, right?”

“See you,” her eyelids are heavy already. You make your way back to the car slowly but surely, arms growing more numb with every step.

︵୨୧︵

Abbey manages to bargain a bath out of you and four books before bedtime instead of the usual two. How you ever say no to her, you’re not sure. By the time you finally tuck her in, it's well past nine o’clock.

“Did you have a good day today?” You ask as you bend down to kiss her forehead.

“Yes, Mr. Harrington is my favorite teacher,” she proclaims drowsily.

“He’s your only teacher, Ab,” You snicker.

“But he’s still my favorite,” she replies in the same cadence one would say ‘Duh’.

“Well, I guess you’ll have to go to sleep super fast tonight so you can see him sooner, right?”

You can practically see the lightbulb turn on above her head like she’s just had a groundbreaking revelation and nods fervently. You tuck her in tight on both sides, and give her a kiss on each of her cheeks and once more to her forehead for good measure.

“Love you, Abbey girl,” you tell her on your way out, “Goodnight,”

“Goodnight, mommy,” she says wearily from underneath her princess bedsheets.

The door closes with a soft click and you make your way to the living room. You never had the chance to ask Stephanie what she was doing at the school– from what you knew, she didn’t have any children. Perhaps she was a teacher. It didn’t matter as long as you didn’t have to interact with her again.

As you lounged on your old sectional, you couldn't help your mind wandering back to thoughts of Steve. You wanted to know more about him. Where he came from, what made him want to work with kids, why he needed a gerbil to keep him company. Distantly, you imagined what he was like outside of an elementary school setting. You hoped one day you’d find out.

He was Abbey’s teacher, sure, but what was the harm in a little crush?

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