#Thanksgiving weekend safety

[calypsocolada]

PAPER RINGS | takuma

synopsis: takuma meets your parents, it goes better than expected. authors note: hi there. i was watching the proposal and this story came to me :] i really think jjk is for the girlies and gays with the amount of male characters that are literally too sexy. anyways pls enjoy this story!!!!!!!!!!!!!! does anyone else wanna help me track down gege? he's a fucking menace. cw: slightly suggestive, ANGST, shibuya mention, slight spoliers about nanami wc: 4.3k

--------------------------------------------------------

You glance over at the driver's seat, Takuma is bouncing his leg up and down, his hands gripping the steering wheel, knuckles white. He was nervous. You could tell it instantly. He was rigid, Takuma was never rigid, he was always relaxed. Your first few weeks of dating he was nervous around you and you could see those same mannerisms now. You reached over, turning the radio down a bit. It had been playing the same three Christmas songs on every channel. Takuma glanced over at you and gave you an anxious smile. So you reached over and laced your fingers with his free hand. 

“You survived Thanksgiving, Christmas will be fine.” You whispered, pressing your lips to the top of his hand. You nod his head. 

“I don’t think your Dad likes me,” He starts.

“Why would you think that?” You asked, leaning your head against the seat, inspecting Takuma’s side profile. He was distracting, his jawline and soft brown hair, his chestnut eyes that matched the soft tan sweater you got him. He looked good. Really really good. 

“I don’t know, I just feel like he doesn’t like me.”

“My father is very outspoken, Ino, he once told one of my ex’s that he was ‘fucking annoying’ right to his face.”

“Oh god.” Takuma breathes out. 

“My point is that if he didn’t like you, he would’ve said something to you already.” You say, reaching over to run your fingers through the ends of his hair. Takuma leans into your touch as he presses lightly on the break at a red light. 

“And your mom?”

“My mom,” you laugh. “She loves you.” 

Which is true. Your mom had pulled you aside during Thanksgiving to rave about Takuma. How he helped her in the kitchen and didn’t seem bothered the least bit when helping clean up. Takuma glances at you with a hopeful look in his eyes. 

“Really?” He asks as you nod your head. He bites his lip to keep from smiling too largely. You see his shoulders relax slightly and you roll your head back towards the passing trees. The heat blew from the vents to your cheeks, snow falling fresh and white from the dimmed sky. 

There were things you were keeping to yourself. Big changes you weren’t ready for. You wanted everything to go perfectly this weekend but in quiet moments of reflection you wondered who you wanted it to go perfectly for. Because once you said the things on your mind that just might be the end for you and Takuma. 

You and Takuma have been together for about three years now. You met in Shibuya on Halloween night. It was a crazy night that you didn’t like to remember much of. You’d been there for a Halloween party and next thing you know things were blowing up and people were dying. Takuma had appeared like some sort of superhero, he helped escort you to safety. That night you learned about things you never wanted to learn about. Such as the existence of curses, and that cute boy that you’d fall in love with worked to exterminate such curses. Some jobs he did were fine, minimum damage. But most jobs he’s barely make it out alive. Like the one in Shibuya. Takuma didn’t talk about that night at all, only meeting you. Everything else was an extremely sore subject for him. He had talked about a Nanami Kento at one point while somewhat drunk but the most you got out of him was that he looked up to him but then he got quiet. You assumed Nanami wasn’t around anymore, probably because of the curses they fought. 

That was something you could’ve gone your entire life without knowing because it irrevocably changed things. Life was scarier now. But on the other side of the coin you also met Takuma. 

You and your friends had gone to some stupid party, you remember it raining at one point, your freshly curled hair going flat. You stepped out of the party into the brisk cold air, rain hitting your hot skin, cooling you off. You let your head fall back against the brick wall behind you. You don’t even know why you came out tonight, it wasn’t less than an hour until your friends all found some boys to mess around with and leave you all on your own. You pulled the cold beer bottle up to your lips and downed what little you had left in it, tossing the glass bottle in the trash. It cracked loudly in the bin. You needed another drink. Or maybe you needed to call a taxi and get the fuck home already. You let your eyes fall closed, the bunny ears on your head sliding and almost falling off your head. You adjusted them and shivered slightly, the cold air finally getting to you. Then again what did you expect, wearing a flimsy corset and ripped tights, a cotton ball glued sideways on your ass. Something shifted down the alley, a few cans falling over. You turned at the sound. You were wary usually and dressed like this you shouldn’t have left the club alone. A growl erupted from about thirty feet down the alley. This had you turning and walking back towards the bar until something large stepped in your way, knocking you back on your ass. There was no explanation for what you were looking at. It was a monster, about nine feet tall, with grotesque features and a gaping mouth, its purple tongue lolling to the side. The scream that left your lips was part fear and confusion, part hoping someone slipped you some mushrooms or something because what you were looking at right now couldn’t have been real. The monster spoke then, in a garbled tone, something about its mother? Something about shopping? You couldn’t understand it before there was a burst and suddenly you were covered in purple goo. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s dead.” A comforting voice said, you hadn’t noticed you were still screaming. You took a staggering breath, wiping the goo from your face. A hand extended and you took it. The man in front of you steady you, looked you over for any wounds then slung his jacket over your shoulders. “You're okay? I got it before it could touch you?” He asks. You blink a few times, unable to form words through the shock of what you just saw. He reached forward, barely touching your shoulder. “Ma’am, it’s dead. I’m here, nothings going to hurt you.” He says and slowly your eyes raise to meet his. Beautiful brown eyes. There’s a quiet moment, like the world has slowed for a moment. The stranger's eyes looked gentle, his voice the only keeping you from freaking out all over again. “You're not hurt are you?” He asks again and slowly you shake your head. “Thank god for that,” He says and he sounds genuinely relieved. 

“You saved my life.” You say with a sort of unbelievable amazement. “From--from uh- what- what the fuck was that..?”         

You’d asked him his name that night he saved you, he made a show of things and kissed your knuckles as he left. A month or so later he walked into the bookstore you were working in. He had bandages on his eye and the color gone from his face. You almost didn’t recognize him. When he checked out he looked at you, squinting slightly. 

“I recognize you,” he says as you look up.

“I was in Shibuya during Halloween.” You say and recognition dawns on his face.

“You were dressed as a bunny.” He points out as you blush. You certainly were, it was your friend’s idea. You each went as some kind of cute animal. There was a cat, a mouse, a rabbit and your youngest friend dressed as a dog. 

“Not my best costume.” You say, somewhat shielding your face. 

“You looked cute.” You blushed even deeper. “I didn’t get to thank you.” You say as you hand him his receipt. “You saved my life.” 

“You’re welcome. I’d do it anytime.” He says before blushing. You smile down at your shoes. 

“Could I buy you a drink maybe?”

That was the start of everything. You kept seeing Takuma until he finally kissed you, then you saw him all the time. Now three years later you two lived together. Things had been busy and your parents lived in another state which is why he never got to meet them in person until recently. Takuma grew up in a warmer climate and coming down to where you lived, mid-winter was like a Christmas all of his own. The first time you guys flew here for thanksgiving it was snowing. Takuma ran out of the airport and took thousands of pictures. It was cute. He eagerly bought a parka, beanie and earmuffs. He wore them all the entire weekend. This weekend was no different. He was ready now for this climate. He had various cable knit sweaters you helped him pick out, and a barrage of scarfs. You loved how he loved your hometown. He called it Christmas town, and said it reminded him of Hallmark movies. It always made you laugh because it was one of many states that got lots of snow, he just wasn’t used to it.  

You pull up and the front door to your house is already cracked open. The lights are perfectly placed outside, white snow covering the roof and the ground. There’s a shoveled path for you two to follow. You both hop out, Takuma grabs all the bags before you can even think about grabbing your own. 

“Give me a bag, boy wonder.” You tease as Takuma just shakes his head and walks towards the front door. He was very chivalrous all the time, always putting you first. You rolled your eyes lovingly and jogged to catch up with him. 

“Don’t slip on the ice patch there.” Takuma calls out over his shoulder as you step over said spot. Your Mom appears at the front door, the fog on the window blurring her figure. She waves as both you and Takuma wave back. Then she pushes open the door and holds it open for you two. 

“Hi honey! Merry Christmas!” She says as you two meet in a tight hug. 

“Hi mom. Merry Christmas,” you return. Your mom pulls back, tucks your hair behind your ear before turning to Takuma. 

“Hi handsome, love the sweater.” She says, reaching and pulling Takuma into a hug. 

“Hi, Mrs. Y/L/N. Merry Christmas.”

“Come inside you two, out of the cold.” Your mom said as Takuma picked the bags up and you held the door open for him. The heat hit your cold cheeks immediately, the smell of your Mom’s homemade cookies hitting you. You smiled to yourself. You moved away from home several years ago, teenage rebellion, but lately you’ve felt a bit alone. You had your friends, who weren’t really all that great if you were being honest, and you had Takuma of course but all your best friends and family lived here. You missed the cold weather, the snow, the wide open space that city life back there was lacking. You sort of felt like you were being pulled in two separate directions. Homesick and lovesick, you just wished there was a cure. Where everything could be in one place. Then there was the glaring fact of Takuma’s dangerous job. That had you unable to sleep the nights he was out working. Laying on the cold side of the pillow wondered if tonight will be the night he doesn’t make it home. It was really fucking with you lately. Which is why you planned the trip back home on thanksgiving and Christmas, maybe to ease some pain in your heart.  

“Alright, I fixed up your room so if you guys wanna rest for a bit dinner will be ready by six.” Your mom says. 

“Where’s Dad?” You ask. 

“Late, work has been crazy. He’ll be home around six.” She says as you nod your head. 

You lead Takuma upstairs, pushing open the door to your old bedroom. Your mom redecorated it a few years ago, thank god. You’d be humiliated if Takuma saw your old one direction posters. Takuma dropped the bags on the floor and fell onto the bed. You kicked off your shoes and shimmied out of your jacket. Takuma leaned up on his forearms, giving you that look. You cocked your head and bit back a grin. 

“Don’t you dare look at me like that.” You say walking a bit closer. He leans up, reaching for your thighs to pull you closer. 

“Like what?” He asks innocently, large fingers wrapping around you as you bury your fingers into his hair. His eyes glistened in the dim light of your room. 

“You know.” You may as he gives a quick tug and you fall on top of him, legs spread to straddle his legs. His hands travel up and rest just at your hips. “My mom is right downstairs. You’re going to make a terrible impression.” You half laugh as his lips press softly against your open throat. 

“Me? You’re the one who can never keep quiet.” He says muffled against you. You blush deeply remembering the time you met his parents. You two had snuck off and got caught by his cousins. It was humiliating. His lips travel up to your jaw, kissing softly. You shudder, pushing him back onto the bed, caging his body with yours. 

“Maybe I should make a mess out of you then, see how you like it.” You say teasingly, pressing your knee between his legs. He jolts at the contact, a strangled noise escaping his lips. 

“Shit,” he gasps. “No, no, you’re right. It’s not smart.” He said as you laughed, moving off of him. His hands are still on you though, as though he’d really like to take a chance. 

“We should’ve stayed in a hotel.” You sigh, reaching to pull the blankets out from under you. Takuma snorts at that, helping as you two get under the covers. He pulls you against him, wrapping an arm around your back. 

“Are the walls that thin?” He asks as you nod your head against his chest. 

“Trust me they are.” 

“I don’t wanna think about why you know that.” He mumbles in the dark as you giggle. 

Your father was about fifteen minutes late and he came rushing inside, profusely apologizing and kissing your mom on the cheek as he entered. His eyes found you and lit up. You rushed to him as he grabbed you up, spinning you around. You giggled. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. 

“Hi pumpkin, Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Dad.” You beamed. Takuma was a few steps behind you as he held out a hand to greet your father. Your dad glanced at the hand and shook his head. 

“Bring it in, son, it’s Christmas.” Your Sad said as Takuma breathed out a soft laugh, meeting your Dad in a hug. Your heart soared. None of your other boyfriends ever made it past a second trip to your parent’s house. Not a single one. Your father usually had his mind made up the first time. It seems as though Takuma made a good first impression. 

You sat beside Takuma at the table, he held your hand underneath the entire dinner, even as your hands went clammy. It was cute. The dinner went over better than you could’ve imagined. You had never seen your Dad laugh so much, he was usually somewhat serious. But Takuma was funny, that was one of the many things you found attractive about him. He was charismatic and charming, you never stood a chance staying single around him. After dinner Takuma helped your mom clean up as you and your Dad drank cocoa in the living room. 

“Pumpkin,” Your dad started as you turned to him. “I think this one’s good.” He motions to the kitchen. Your heart swells. 

“He is.” You say, there was a sort of swoon to your tone. 

“A lot better than that last one you brought home that one was fucking-“

“Annoying.” You finished with a laugh as your Dad nodded his head, making a face as he remembered.

“I can tell he cares and as much as I don’t want you married off states away from your family I guess I wouldn’t mind if it was with that boy.” You stared at your Dad, feeling slightly choked up. 

“Won, that’s uh- thanks Dad.” You said, sipping the hot drink, but you couldn't stop the tears from falling. Your Dad noticed. 

“Oh honey, did I upset you?” He asks as you shake your head. 

“No! No of course not its-- I,” You buried your face in your hands. Saying it outloud would make the things you felt finally real. You weren’t ready for that. Your Dad reached for you, pulling you into a hug. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, hugging you tightly. 

“What is it then?” He asks. You didn’t want to talk about it. Today was a happy day. Your family liked Takuma. You loved Takuma. You weren’t ready for things to change. Things were starting to feel normal. 

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Takuma’s voice came from the threshold of the kitchen. Your teary eyes slid to his. Fuck. You turned and pressed a kiss to your Dad’s cheek. Getting up you reached for Takuma’s hand, pulling him upstairs to your room. “What’s going on?” He asks as you press the door closed behind you. You blow out a breath, everything hitting you at once. Tears slid down your cheek in a hurried rush, clearly taking advantage of you finally letting them fall. Takuma was across the room in a split second, pulling you against his chest, kissing your forehead and holding you tightly. You sniffled, his scent strong, warmth and cashmere. He ran his hand through the back of your hair and just held you until you calmed down. 

“I don’t want things to change.” You said, your voice sounding pathetically sad. Takuma pulled back slightly, your eyes meeting his. He reaches and rubs the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs. 

“What things, Baby?” He asks, eyes searching. You swallowed. 

“Us.” You say. He looks at you for a long moment, slowly cocking his head before shaking it. 

“Us?” He echoes. You let your eyes fall closed, annoyed at how you’ve thought about this shit for months but couldn’t form the right words right now. 

“I didn’t wanna do this but my Dad-- he said something.” You say.

“What he’d say?” He asks, concerned about his features, looking as though he might take care of your father for you. 

“It’s not like that, he- he meant well.”

“What’d he say, baby?”

“He said he’d be okay if we got married.” You say, letting your eyes drift back up to Takuma’s. He’s gently biting his lower lip.

“Really?” He asks, his thumbs caressing your cheeks. You nod your head.

“And that’s not something you want?”

“Of course it’s something I want,” You say in a rush, not wanting him to think you didn’t want him, not even for a second. You wanted him. Forever if you could. He slowly nods his head, trying to understand. “I’m sorry, I wanted to know what I was going to say before I said it.” You sigh. “I want to marry you, that’s something you want to, right?” Takuma looks at you like that's a stupid question. He nods his head. “Then there are things I have to say.” 

“Okay,” Takuma says softly. You take his hand and walk across the room, sitting down side by side on the bed. You remembered years spent in this room. Dreaming of the moment you fell in love. Writing little stories in your journal until the sun rises in the sky. Reading them to your family at breakfast. You remember the first boy you brought in here, how he made fun of the books on your nightstand. The second boy you brought home got in a screaming match with your dad. The third one apparently was fucking annoying. And now the fourth. Takuma. There wouldn’t be a fifth. This one was the love of your life, you fucking knew it. It was the love your parents had. 

“I can’t stay with you if you continue to be a sorcerer.” You say and the weight of it leaves your shoulders and presses down on your chest. The look on Takuma’s face. There were no words to describe the confusion, the hurt, the whirling of emotions. 

“Oh,” He says. That’s all he says.

“Ino, I’m sorry, I didn’t want to do this on Christmas but it is something I’ve been thinking about. Especially lately.” 

“Why did you talk to me about it?”

“Because- because I know how much you love it.” Tears well up again. Fuck you hated crying. You never used to cry but now it came so damn easily. 

“I do. I do love it.” He says and your heart breaks a little. 

“I know you do.” You say and your words sound so damn sad. Takuma’s warm hands find yours, lacing his fingers with yours. You take in a breath and clear your throat. “I’ve thought about it ever since Thanksgiving. How my parents seemed to like you. How you being home with me just felt right. How much I love you. Then my Dad says something about marriage and suddenly it hits me. I don’t want to be married years from now waiting by the door while you're out at a job. Wondering if you're going to make it home. Wondering if one of those fucking monsters got you. You told me yourself how many sorcerers die and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that because, Ino, I don’t want to be without you. I don’t want to know how it feels to lose you.” Tears were coming steadily now. You look and see that Takuma is crying too, he’s nodding his head as though he understands.

“I didn’t- I never thought about it. Jesus…” He sighs, pulling you into the tightest hug. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Y/N.” He mumbles into your hair. “I got so caught up in working I never stopped to think about how it would affect you.” He says and you feel that weight lifting from your heart. “I like being a sorcerer, but I love you, of course I’d choose you. I’d choose you anyday, anytime, anyway.” He vows, pulling back, he’s smiling, he’s kissing you. This was all sort of a surprise, you really thought it was selfish to make him choose, thought you’d push him away. “I love you. Fuck sorcery.”

“Ino, are you sure-” He’s kissing the doubt from your lips.

“I’m sure,” he says softly against your lips sending shivers down your spine.

“Marry me then.” You say and Takuma pulls back, a stricken look on his face. You meant it. He’s shaking his head.

“Asshole,” He says and it pulls a surprised laugh from your lips. “I had a whole thing planned.” 

“Can we forget what I said then?” You ask and he laughs heartily, pulling you back to his lips, kissing you softly. “There’s one last thing,” You say.

“You want to move back home.” He says, it’s like he read your mind. “I had a feeling when you pretended not to cry on the way back from thanksgiving.”

“I miss my family.” You say, Takuma smiles.

“I know. I’m fine with that, I like it here.” Takuma says. As far as you know Takuma didn’t get along much with his family which is why he was so eager to impress them. 

“Are you sure? Because we don’t have to move.”

“I want to, baby. Being here feels right.” You can’t help but smile.

“We don’t have to worry about that now.” You say, wiping your face as Takuma leans and presses his lips against your own for a long moment. Then he’s pressing against you as you pull him down on top of you on the bed. His hand grips the back of your thigh, hiking it up as his core presses against yours. You both make some noises as the kisses get messier, more desperate. Your cold hands slip under his sweater, sliding against the cut of his abs. He shivers under your touch. The building tension growing. Something else has grown, pushing against the inside of your thigh as your hands travel around his back, pulling his weight fully on you. His lips kiss a trail to your neck. His other hand sliding down your stomach to the button of your jeans. Fingers deftly unbuttoning your pants, dipping slowly under the waistband.   

There’s a knock on the door that has Takuma’s hand springing out of your pants. 

“Hi, honey, just wanted to check on you guys, is everything alright?” You heard your mom from outside the door. Takuma’s head fell on your chest as he sighed, defeated, you bit your lip to keep from laughing too loudly.

“We’re fine, be down in a minute!” You called out as Takuma groaned against you. 

“I don’t think I can make it this whole weekend.” He whined as you pushed up off the bed, pulling him with you. 

“Don’t you sorcerer's exercise restraint?” You tease as he grabs you by the waist making you yelp slightly, dissolving into laughter.

“You’re really funny,” He says, leaning and pressing his lips against yours. He really can’t keep his hands off you as you two find yourselves falling back into the bed again and again that weekend.

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 07

PREVIOUS

The thing about Nicky knowing that FF knows Russian and therefore understands every single excruciatingly sweet, ear-reddingly spicy, or shockingly mundane thing that Andrew and Neil say to one another is that he is objectively the 3rd worst person to know this secret.

First place is, of course, Andrew Minyard the man who has now asked him about his family 3 times in the last week and a half. FF doesn’t really care if Andrew goes after the majority of his ‘family’ since it’s just his step brothers and step dad but Andrew might go after his Grandma too so he just says “We don’t talk” every time it comes up and deletes his entire chat history with his grandma that way Andrew won’t know how close they are. If that means that Andrew thinks that no one would look for him if he happened to disappear into a shallow grave FF doesn’t know. He’s already doomed so the least he can do is save his gran.

Second place is, of course, Captain Neil. Captain has mentioned quite a few times that a lot of people stay with friends or people they’re close with over Thanksgiving break. It’s meaner than Captain Neil usually would be off of the Court reminding FF that he has friends but none close enough who would want to spend a holiday with him. He plans to go see his Gran for Thanksgiving and she plans to feed him a truly ridiculous amount of food. It’s the same plan he’s had pretty much every year since he was 13.

Third place is Nicky Hemmick. Nicky is a very nice guy who got him a paperboy to hyperventilate into a couple times and would absolutely never intentionally OUT somebody and compromise their safety! Nicky’s talked with FF about some of his background so FF has full confidence that it’s never going to be something that Nicky intentionally outs to anyone. But there are two main reasons why Nicky is the third worst person to find out about this secret.

The first reason is that Nicky Hemmick just unabashedly loves gossip. FF has heard that with the graduation of the girls the previous year had gone Allison Reynolds who had multiple running bets on multiple teammates and a whole cache of gossip. Now Nicky has access to the ultimate accidental gossip magnet in the man who no one notices, who knows any language the Foxes speak and is too awkward to get up and leave when they start talking.

Nicky will never tell another soul his secret but he also HAS to know what Neil and Andrew are saying to one another and when Nicky lies to cover for him the charge is one free conversation translation.

He’s absolutely hooked on getting translations the since the first time he had asked what Andrew and Neil are hissing at one another one morning practice.

FF translated it awkwardly feeling like a creep and like he’s invading their privacy but Nicky had helped him eat the four slavic letter flashcards he had made up to help a friend study the language when Captain Neil and Andrew had come back early from a weekend alone in Columbia.

Nicky had even assured him afterwards that the ink was probably non-toxic and given him floss so he could get the flashcard wedged between his molars out.

So….

“Andrew’s mad that Captain Neil skipped breakfast because they’re working to make him eat something for every meal. Captain Neil’s mad because Andrew’s the one that kept him in bed so long that he didn’t have time to make anything.”

Nicky squeals in delight

The second reason, which is just compounded by the first, is the fact that Nicky had promised not to tell another Soul. However Nicky Hemmick, the romantic that he is, believes that he and his Fiancé Erik share one soul since they are soulmates. Therefore Nicky Hemmic had barely even registered FF’s tears of gratitude before he was calling Erik to tell him about FF.

The sheer number of close calls that have happened because Nicky HAS to tell Erik about something Andrew and Neil said to one another or something someone else is saying is the reason FF started getting ulcers.

Watching Nicky talk to Erik about him knowing Russian is like watching a member of the three stooges walk through a construction site blindfolded. FF nearly kills himself stopping Nicky from outing him numerous times and at the end Nicky’s smiling, unscathed and unaware of the sheer number of close calls he had sauntered through.

FF can’t wait to go home and bury his face in his grandma’s lap, stress eat two apple pies, and tell her about how he thinks he might just become an electrician or a plumber or an underwater welder because one of his language professors wants him to come and speak to a lower level class (a gen-ed with over a hundred people in it) about the usefulness of LATIN for all their majors since they can parse the meaning via root word and he had panicked and said ’Sure’.

***

The thing about being the only person on the team that knows that FF speaks Russian and is riddled with social anxiety is that it’s absolutely hilarious most of the time.

Every once in a while he has to step in to help the guy.

So sometimes he’ll eat flashcards. Sometimes he’ll distract his cousin with a salacious comment so FF can escape a dangerous conversation with his drunk friend. Sometimes he pushes FF to go talk to Abby about his tummy troubles. Sometimes he’ll hand over one of the brown paper bags he keeps in his backpack nowadays so FF can wheeze into it and sometimes he’ll assure his cousin that FF’s passing out after he offered to teach him how to use a knife was probably because of his stomach ulcers not because FF is terrified of Andrew stabbing him.

Nicky is the only member of the Foxes that FF regularly seeks out on his own to hang out with and Nicky just loves how hard Andrew and Neil are trying not to be jealous about it.

“I want to ask Smith if he wants to come spend Thanksgiving Break with us.” Andrew says out of the blue a week before the aforementioned break when it’s just Aaron, Neil, Nicky and himself in Nicky’s dorm room.

Nicky thinks about FF talking about going back to his hometown in Washington State and how he waxed poetic about spending Thanksgiving Break with his Grandma and how he was going to eat his weight in pie and Macaroni and Cheese.

“He’s planning on going and seeing his grandma. He won’t shut up about it.” Nicky says still glad that FF has a family member like his grandma.

Everyone else in the room look at him.

“He won’t shut up about it?” Aaron asks with an eyebrow raised. Aaron likes FF just fine and appreciates how FF has helped Katelyn start to grasp the fundamentals of the German language so quickly so she can understand what’s being said. “So what he said it twice?” He continues.

Nicky remembers FF’s ability for catastrophizing every conversation with the Foxes into one where it comes out that he speaks Russian and Andrew stabs him. As far as the other Foxes are concerned he’s a man of few words.

“He’s been talking about it all month. If I hear about his grandma’s apple pie recipe one more time I might demand he sneak a slice back for me through TSA.” Nicky loves stoking the flames, especially when the fire is harmless. He watches Aaron shrug and the skin around both Neil and Andrew’s mouths tightens. “You can ask him, the worst he can say is No.” Nicky shrugs.

Nicky is there when Andrew does ask him and he can see the prolonged internal scream of terror on the utterly blank face (or maybe he just imagines it.) and in a way Nicky is a little sad when FF shakes his head and says “No, I have plans with my Grandma.” In an utterly blank voice that means he has functionally blue-screened before turning and walking towards the nearest door so he can reboot in solitude.

“The offer stands if you change your mind.” Neil says and Nicky is impressed with the seemingly very casual thumbs up FF gives as he power walks away.

A little less than a week later Nicky finds Andrew next to FF and FF looking down at a cancelled flight notification after coming in from a truly monumental storm.

Andrew offers Thanksgiving in Columbia again.

Nicky tries to stop it from happening he can see that FF is a little lost in his disappointment over not being able to see his grandma and not thinking clearly but before he can snap him out of it.

“Sure.”

NEXT

Per your requests:

@i-have-three-feelings @blep-23 @dreamerking27 @andreilsmyreligion @belodensetdust @rainbowpineapplebottle @yarn-ace @iwouldlikesometea @lily-s-world @obscureshipsandchips @booklover242

[barilleon]

Holding A Mini-Con Online For Your Friends, or How To Learn A Lot of TTRPGs at Once

In November of 2020, nobody I knew was leaving their house to go eat turkeys with their family. We wanted to protect the ones we loved, but that left us with a whole lot of nothing to do where usually there was... something. Thus, the TRPG (Tabletop fRiendsgiving Potluck Games) was born!

You can do something like this too! Because chances are, your friends all know at least one game system to teach it to everyone else. And some of these systems don't take long to prep or run at all. In this post, I'll talk about how we do it and why it's a great idea if you and your friends are looking to learn more ttrpgs.

I have a private Discord Server called the Demonweb Shitpit, which is where I playtest everything I self publish. It's a very chill, invitation-only place that is reserved for friends. It doesn't have a code of conduct or anything like that; this isn't a community I'm managing. It's just a perpetual virtual house party. I wanted to wake up and head to the virtual fridge for breakfast and find two people standing in the virtual kitchen yelling about probability distribution, and that's what the Shitpit is. During the early days of the Pandemic, I really wanted to make life easier for everyone at that party.

The rules of the potluck are simple: everyone brings a game (or an event, like hosting a talk or panel) to play. That's what a potluck is. We've done this for three years now, and it is always a blast. I've played so many games I never would have otherwise: If It Hadn't Been for Cotton-Eyed Joe. Kids on Brooms. Blue Rose. Big Motherfucking Crab Truckers.

Here's how we do it:

Gather a group of interested people in one place. Discord works the best, because it has A/V built in for running games. You could also probably use a Facebook Event page or similar if you wanted.

Figure out a time people are available. You can set this over a long weekend (our first year, it was Thanksgiving Weekend) or on certain days of the week over the course of a month (One year it was "weekends during November).

Let everybody bring something to the Potluck. This doesn't necessarily mean that every one of these games is going to happen. You always need more players than you do games. But it is a potluck, and volunteering is part of the price.

Gather this information using a Google Form or similar: what are you bringing, what do people need to participate, when would you be available to facilitate, etc.

Get everyone to vote on which things they are most interested in trying out. Now you know which things are popular and which things might not shake out.

Make a calendar (Google Calendar or a Notion Database work great) of events and let people sign up for them. I usually let people sign up via informal poll on Discord:

After that, we make threads in the Discord channel for each game, and the folks running or facilitating coordinate things like how to prep for the game, safety tools, and content warnings.

Usually at the end of a potluck session, where I'd normally do something like Stars and Wishes, we have a talkback session. We talk about the system moreso than the session itself, give our impressions on it, and highlight moments or mechanics we really liked. It helps with learning a system if you can name one or two things you liked about it after the session is over.

What Games To Bring?

You are probably not going to want to bring a big, involved game with big, involved character creation to the potluck. If you really want to, check to see if the game has a quickstart with premade characters and simplified rules. Also, since you are introducing a game to folks who likely have never played it, multiply your estimated time to run the session by 1.5 at least. GMless games work really well, especially if there is little to no character creation, or character creation is an explicit part of play.

If you're going to run a potluck with your friends but need a starting point for games to bring, here's a quick list of games that might work well:

i'm sorry did you say street magic - worldbuilding, GMless fun

Stealing the Throne - you make your characters *during* play, which means you get to play right away

The Ground Itself - worldbuilding and GMless, a delight

Everyone Is John - VERY simple to learn!

Cozy Town - The best Stardewlike in my opinion

Paranormal Inc - GMless mystery game, where you draw clues and build the story together!

Heart: Quickstart - Dungeon Crawling, Underground City, premade characters

Orbital Blues Quickstart - Premade characters, You're Poor And In Space, Easy to Read & Run

Why Are We Doing This?

Our Potluck is one of the events I look forward to every year, and it's so easy and fun to get started. Also, if you're the kind of person who needs to play something in order to get a good feel for it, this is a really good opportunity. And scheduling to run a game for your friends is a great motivator to learn it. My friends and I are all in this together, and I don't want to let them down, so I prepare a kickass session and show up to their sessions. BOOM, now my horizons have expanded exponentially.

Including the talkback or any space to reflect on the game helps cement in our minds what we liked and didn't like about a system. And in future design conversations, we now have a shared vocabulary of all the Potluck games we've played together. When we talk about something, I'll go, "Remember that time in Blue Rose when you looked around and saw the set pieces?" and the folks who were playing will know what I mean and know what I'm getting at, and what experiences I'm trying to capture in our new project.

It's also just fun! Make fun memories with your friends and step out of your comfort zones. That's what it's all about baby!

[karmic-vibes]

If I Can Dream

25 - While I Can Dream

art credit: @lazylittledragon on tumblr / lazyjunebug on twitter

cw: emotions :’)

a/n: this is the LAST chapter/installment of this fic. i may post more little one-shots to add to the steddie dad multiverse (ie w the new addition of Theo 🥺💕), but for the main story, this is it, folks. i hope you enjoyed the ride!

Year: 2006

“Okay, do you have your phone?” Eddie asked.

“Yes, pops.”

“Your guitar?”

“Yes.”

“Your bedding?”

“Yeah.”

“Your–”

“Eddie! We have been through this list a million times! She has everything!” Steve interjected.

“Jesus, alright… do you have–”

“Edward!”

“Christ, okay, let’s go.”

The family piled into the rented U-Haul and started their journey to UCLA. Bobby had been dreaming of moving out to California for as long as she could remember. She begged and pleaded with her fathers to move, but they told her that they should stay put while she finished school. 

Now that she was college age, the world was her oyster. She initially wanted to go to UC Berkeley, but she was waitlisted, so she had to resort to her safety school: UCLA. “Safety school” was a reach, as both universities had an acceptance rate of less than 30%—the boys were beyond proud, to say the least.

Throughout her rebellious four years of high school, the boys worried about her getting into any colleges at all. But to find out that she was accepted into one of the top universities in the country, they were left speechless.

“I told you she didn’t get any of your bad traits,” Steve teased.

And he was right.

Despite being sneakier than a ninja, and constantly back talking her fathers, Bobby Judas Harrington had impeccable grades, stellar extra curricular activities, and an exceptional entrance essay.

All thanks to Eddie.

Her grades were a result from being able to focus from her ADHD medication and her dad’s unmatched, under appreciated brain (which was used to learn music in an unbelievably short amount of time and write campaigns no one else could’ve dreamed of).

Her extra curriculars, which ranged from marching band, to Hell Fire, to her independent garage band, to being credited as a producer on a Corroded Coffin album, to even working part-time as a waitress at a local restaurant on the weekends. She showed a balance between school, fun, and work like no other.

Then her essay—it was arguably the best UCLA had ever received. While most wrote about rewarding times they had whilst volunteering, or how hard they worked in high school—Bobby wrote about her unconventional upbringing and how it shaped her into the person she became.

How having two dads, one being transgender (and famous) affected her. How both her parents were young when they had her, and how that didn’t stop them from being the best parents they could be. How deeply the two cared about her, more so than most conventional parents cared for their children. How having two godmothers (and no godfathers), two singular grandparents, and a gaggle of aunts and uncles (who weren’t even related to her) helped raise her.

It was touching. It was unique. It was authentically Bobby.

While the last few years were a challenge, raising an angsty teenager in a house with no one who could relate to her—they managed to create the best Munson or Harrington to ever exist. They couldn’t even believe it themselves. How they were unable to do it for themselves, yet they helped raise a daughter who essentially became a genius in secret astounded them.

They were proud, to say the least.

On the long, grueling ride to the campus dorms, the boys cherished every last second they got to spend with their daughter. After all, they wouldn’t be seeing her again until thanksgiving. The three of them were smushed, shoulder to shoulder, in the rental. The boys beaming—Bobby, not so much.

“So, pops,” Bobby started. “You gonna start touring again now that I’m gonna be in college?”

“Possibly,” he sighed. “The rest of the band has kids now, so we’ll have to work around them.”

“Would you come play at my school?”

“If they ask us,” he chuckled.

“Would you guys consider moving out to California?”

“I thought you wanted to be far away from us,” Steve teased.

“I want some independence, sure, but I’m still gonna miss you guys.”

“We’ll miss you too, Bee, but… I dunno if we can leave everyone in Hawkins behind,” Eddie honestly answered. “Especially with Wayne and Pattie being a bit older. I wouldn’t wanna be too far from them.”

“No, I understand,” she sighed. “It’s gonna be so weird being away from everyone.”

“I know. I don’t know what we’re gonna do without you,” Steve smirked. “What did we even do before we had her?”

“Like I’m supposed remember?” Eddie grinned.

“Let’s have a second kid—start fresh. After all, we’re only forty and thirty-nine,” Steve teased.

“Hey!” Bobby laughed.

“If you think I’m doing all that again, then you must be crazier than I thought, Harrington,” Eddie warned. “I’ll consider a dog, though. Possibly a cat.”

“Oh, okay, yeah that’s a good idea.”

“Let’s give it Bobby’s room.”

“Hey!” She giggled. “I’m still right here!”

“We know, bug.” Eddie jokingly nudged her arm. “You could never be replaced. You know that.”

And she did know it. She knew she was irreplaceable. She knew, no matter what—even now that her parents were old and gray—she was their baby.

Their first day of driving was coming to an end in Texas. They booked a crummy hotel room to sleep in for the night and told themselves they’d be back on the road first thing in the morning.

The second day of travel was more or less the same—everyone crammed shoulder to shoulder in the U-Haul, desperately trying not to kill each other. The boys endlessly argued over directions, saying that the GPS didn’t know it’s ass from its elbow, and Steve yelling that it didn’t have either (so, of course, how would it know?).

The day before Bobby was officially dropped off at college, they stayed in a hotel near campus, so they’d be able to sleep in prior to moving day. That evening, Steve was asleep as soon as the sun set, but Eddie and Bobby couldn’t doze off to save their lives.

“Pops,” Bobby whispered.

“Hmm?” he hummed.

“Wanna go outside by the pool? I can’t sleep.”

“Sure,” he shrugged. “I’ll grab a couple beers. You want any?”

“Do you even have to ask?”

“That’s my girl,” he chuckled.

The pair slipped out of the room, making their way outside the hotel. They occupied a few pool chairs, popping open the overpriced bottles of beer.

“You ready for tomorrow?” Eddie asked.

“Are you ready?”

“I mean… yes and no. Yes, because I’m excited to see you grow up and be on your own. No, because… you’re growing up. After tomorrow, dad and I are officially empty nesters. We’re not gonna know what to do with ourselves,” he quietly laughed.

“You’ll figure something out.”

“You’re a good kid, Bee, you know that, right?”

“I try,” She grinned. “Papa?”

“Yeah?”

“What happens if I don’t like UCLA?”

“What do you mean?”

“What if I don’t like the school? What if I wanna come home?”

“Then you come home and we find a school that’s right for you,” Eddie shrugged. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“You won’t think I’m a quitter?”

“God, no, pumpkin, of course not. You’re doing something no Munson or Harrington has ever done. That alone is something to be proud of. And if you don’t like it, then you don’t like it.”

“What if this whole thing was a mistake? Moving out here?”

“You know, Bee…” Eddie sighed as he took another sip of his beer. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life. I’ve sold drugs, I’ve done drugs, I’ve skipped school, I’ve cursed dad out countless times. Hell, I’ve nearly even kicked him out once or twice. I have made so many mistakes. But you? You’ll always be my best one. Not all mistakes are bad, love bug—some just may be the best thing to ever happen to you.”

“I was a mistake?” She teasingly gasped. “Now here I was, thinking I was thoroughly planned.”

“Yeah,” Eddie snickered. “A pair of twenty-one and twenty-two year olds thoroughly planned you. You’re funny.”

“I try,” she giggled. “I’ve only learned from the best.”

“Damn straight.” The two clinked their bottles. “Shit, love bug… you’re a grown up. Where’d all the fuckin’ time go?”

“I’d ask you the same thing.” She weakly smiled, plucking a gray curl from Eddie’s head.

“Ow, you bitch,” he laughed. “God help your father. I don’t believe in Heaven or hell, but if there is one, dad’s going straight to Heaven for putting up with the two of all all these years.”

“We’re not that bad.”

“Bug, we’re the worst.”

The two chatted the night away until the hotel staff told them the pool area was closed. They headed up to bed, still tossing and turning, dreading the morning. When the sun rose, and it was Bobby’s check-in time, the family hauled themselves to UCLA to send their daughter off into adulthood.

They spent several hours moving everything into her cramped freshman dorm, but none of them cared. In the end, it was more time they got to spend together. Once the final box was unpacked, the boys offered to take Bobby out to lunch, to which she happily agreed.

The family gathered together, for what would be the last time for the next few months. Hours passed without any of them realizing—they were together; they were happy. Nothing else mattered.

When the boys dropped Bobby back off at her dorm, they wrapped her in huge tight enough to kill. While they wanted their little one to grow and flourish, they simultaneously couldn’t bear to live life without her. Alas, they broke free, sending their not-so-little girl off to be on her own.

“We love you, pumpkin,” Eddie whispered.

“I love you guys too,” Bobby sobbed.

“Stay safe… say no to drugs,” Steve mumbled into her curly hair.

“Unless you grow them yourself.”

“Edward!”

“Fine, sorry! Don’t do drugs, or whatever.”

“Call us if you need anything. Day or night.”

“I know, daddy.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Bye, love bug.” Eddie reluctantly pulled away from the hug, admiring his little twin.

“Bye, papa.”

“Don’t do anything I would do.”

“I know,” She giggled. “Oh, and uh… here…” Eddie moved his hair out of the way, unclipping his guitar pick necklace. “Take care of this for me, bug.”

“Papa, I… I can’t take this,” She whispered. “Sure you can,” he shrugged. “It’s good luck.”

“Thanks, pops,” She teared up.

“Okay, bye for real, gorgeous girl.”

“See ya guys. Call me when you get home safe.”

“We will…” Steve pouted.

She wrapped each of them in one final hug before running into her dorm building, officially fleeing the Harrington nest. Steve and Eddie clung to each other, silently crying, mourning the closed chapter in their lives.

“Well shit,” Eddie sniffed, “what the fuck do we do now?”

[misscammiedawn]

On trauma anniversaries

Personal (and a little oversharing) post but I thought I'd speak out, even if it's just an excuse to type to myself.

Original was written October 2023. It has been sitting in our drafts ever since then. 6/22/2024 Dawn edit - Given we eventually posted the suicidality draft, I thought I'd finally share this. Especially given how much my mind has been on the end of June 2022 this week, both the good and the bad.

12/26 Dawn edit- this was originally written just after our birthday and then left in drafts. It is posted now due to the December holiday passing with no attempted intrusion from our No Contact family.

Plus I am in the middle of creating a self-harm safety plan with my therapist and wanted to see what we typed last time we were fucked up to reference for this project.

This is all from my perspective and my advice may not be useful to all. My therapist always says "take what you need and leave what you don't" when reading mental health advice. I hope there are things that will help on your end.

I've been finding a lot of joy recently in trying to write educational resources when I'm feeling a certain way and I'm feeling a certain way right now.

To those who don't know a trauma anniversary is a recognized within PTSD treatment as a sensitivity to emotional reactions brought about by the annual reminder of a particularly traumatic memory. A widely understood one is 9/11 though birthdays, Thanksgiving and annual family holidays tend to come up in the conversations too.

I suppose there is a little "chicken or the egg" back and forth on if the anniversary reminds the individual, summoning the symptoms or the symptoms of the disorder provide the reminder. My reading has said that in traumatic situations our minds become keenly aware of the circumstances and build an aversion to the situation as a survival mechanism and even the smallest hints of familiarity can activate those defenses.

Either way it is commonly experienced enough to be considered a sensitivity when performing trauma therapy. It commonly manifests via nightmares, excessive moodiness or defensiveness, avoidant behavior, social withdrawal or to put more plainly an exacerbation of existing symptoms. Danger of relapse goes up during these periods.

I know that very well. I try really hard not to let my negative instincts take over when I get this way.

October 23rd and 24th are bad days for me. One is a birthday and the other is the anniversary of the day my marriage ended and subsequently started the chain reaction that made the family I built for myself in the USA outright tell me they do not consider me family any longer, something which I am still not even remotely over. Bio-Fam can reject me, that's fine... but when the Found Family reject you? How the fuck do you recover from that? How are you capable of rationalizing that in a way that does not hold all of the blame to your own throat?

Both days represent the act of willingly burning my entire life to the ground and letting the fires consume every relationship and piece of familiarity I had built in 2 previous lives.

A little hyperbolic but that's the impact and fuck I am devastated by guilt and regret for having done it and a terror that I will do it again someday.

Prior to this year's birthday I had even made a post where I joked about how I wasn't dreading it this year but as the weekend went on the emotions started to fade in and then The Reminders kicked in via emails and IMs saying HAPPY BIRTHDAY. The sources were as innocuous as companies with my details who email coupons or work colleagues or even loved ones and people who I do not want contact from.

I've learned one thing this year and that is "you can't ignore this shit". I was arrogant and thought my progress through therapy and my recent stability would usher me through without incident. I was wrong. Luckily my ability to communicate is better than it was so I was able to warn people and ask for reassurance and care from loved ones and have them tell me that I haven't hurt them and am not alienating them and they aren't upset with me.

So, here's my handy guide (from me and to me) for how to survive this shit for future.

Get Distracted

The best moments of my past 48 hours were when I was busy doing things. Work was useful for me. My girlfriend wanted to go on a shopping trip so I forced myself to get out of the house even when I was feeling like shit and wanted to scream and cry.

The shopping trip was more annoying than it was fun but the chore got me doing something and that got me out of my own head for a little. Sometimes having something to be annoyed about, even if it's a stress, is better than being left to fester.

Communicate

I fluctuated between "I don't want to be alone" and "I want to never speak to another human ever again" about 4 times a minute during the worst of it. I was upfront with everyone in my surroundings that my affect would be off and that it was temporary and fretting over me would stress me out more. Everyone was kind and sweet to me. Also everyone at home knows NEVER CELEBRATE MY BIRTHDAY and so getting full compliance from the people in my life helped a lot.

Limit Decision Making and Stress Intake

When work started piling on I started to get a pit in my stomach that created "we're going to get fired!" thoughts that spiraled rapidly. I almost lost my composure with the screen, with myself, with my girlfriend, with the cat over the stupidest things because no matter how much I wanted to admit it, my threshold was in the toilet and I couldn't control it or will myself out of it. This isn't just anger, it's any and all emotion in excess.

Likewise I felt completely incapable of making even minor decisions during this period. Ensuring I had meals planned in advance helped when I would rather starve myself than commit to even buying food.

Commune with the grief instead

We are all quilts patched from every person who has ever loved us. It's okay to accept that there are complicated emotions. Life cannot be as black and white as we force it to be in order to survive. Part of healing is communing with the pain in a way that neither outright rejects it nor fetishizes pain to the point of which you are intentionally triggering yourself. I found a lot of comfort in watching the shows/playing the games that people from before always wanted me to. It's like doing a little bit of finished business, getting to share something with the living memory. It doesn't change the past but it lets you feel a positive connection. It gives positive momentum when the old scars itch and you want to scratch them. Growth off of the scorched Earth without interacting with the past itself and allowing it to intrude on the present.

So whether I support my dad's football team, watch something with the knowledge that she would have loved it or finally see the inspiration for the character he tailor made to be your character's villain in TTRPG, see that game they always talked about liking; I like doing this as something I can DO with the emotional build-up that depends a reaction.

Be Grateful and Show Love To Those Who Stand By You

I have spoken to every partner today just thanking them for dealing with me while I'm like this. I'll talk to my therapist tomorrow. Guilt and paranoia are ruining me at the moment. Assuring people what I lucidly think and feel helps.

Be Open to the Idea That You May Be Wrong

Just... I can tell I'm off. I know I have warned people I am off. I may actually be off. Communicate and offer love and understanding and apologies if needed. It will pass.

It's healthy to understand that while you're compromised you may not be fully yourself. Tread with caution. Do not make impulsive decisions, ask for outside opinions when you need grounding. Allow yourself to not feel guilt when you act in ways you're not proud of.

Help Others

Gotta admit doing the shopping trip with local girlfriend and being love and care for long distance one helped get me out of my own head. I find this one is actually really useful for me and I should think about how I can do it more in the future.

It's extra energy and costs spoons when you're not doing great, but it's applying effort in a positive regard.

Forgive Yourself

If I know myself I will be reading this in a year's time. That's why this post exists after all.

Just... forgive yourself. For abandoning people. For running away. For being imperfect. For choosing to be a woman. For not fighting harder. For not being who everyone needed you to be.

Don't seek to rationalize, don't seek to minimize. Do not even seek to accept what you did.

Just forgive. We are okay. We hurt people and ourselves. We handled things poorly. We broke contracts of the heart and shatters dreams of the future.

But we're alive. We have a chance to be happy again. It's okay to be the villain in other stories. It's okay to not be a perfect victim.

Forgive yourself.

Find something to look forward to

There is always "the next event". Plan for it. Get out of the present and the past. The future is there and it is waiting for you.

It'll be okay. The danger has passed. This week will pass.

It will be okay.

[never-not-ever]

4:38pm Monday Nov 6th

My doctor just stopped by to check on me and it meant a lot. I normally only see her once in the morning. She stood in the doorway and we talked for maybe 10 minutes. It was kind of back and forth bargaining but I was able to reiterate things. I literally was just reading my notes on MyChart and got so annoyed and anxious because there were so many things taken out of context or just mixed up like I didn’t say. Like that I still couldn’t commit to safety but I said so many times I could. And then my social worker wrote that I said the 1:1s overnight were sleeping and I can easily hurt myself so it’s purposeless for me to be on a 1:1. Never said that. I said the fact that I didn’t shows I’m trying and not taking opportunities. And all the times over the weekend during the day where I could have done stuff and didn’t.

I asked if it looked like I was going to be on the 1:1 for the rest of the week and she said she didn’t know about that. Then I asked if she thought I’d be out before Thanksgiving and she laughed and said she thought we’d spend Christmas together. I don’t take offense to her laughing cause we’ve built a joking rapport. I feel so much better after talking to her just now. I feel like she is starting to believe me and isn’t as mad at me as I thought she was this morning.

I’m pretty sure she’s going to give me my bathroom privileges back tomorrow if I don’t self harm tonight. But she did say that if she does that and I self harm then I will be on bathroom supervision indefinitely.

She acknowledged that I do take responsibility for my actions and never blame other people. It was just a very validating conversation. I told her I hated her because I liked her so much but that it really sucks because she understands me and calls me out on my bullshit.

I think tomorrows meeting is going to be a good one. I’m looking forward to waking up early, changing into clean clothes, getting ready for the day, making coffee and waiting for her to come get me for the meeting.

[manicpixxiedreambitch]

My old child development class was something else. The amount of wild ass stories I have from that class.

During my first year doing child development our class had a mix of boys and girls (this was the ONLY year this happened. The following years my class was all girls, (and somehow the same group of girls) and one (1) guy) and my teacher was teaching us about menstruation and how it works and one of the guys in class had to lay on the ground because he almost passed out.

The same guy had to be escorted out on a wheelchair because he almost fainted when the teacher had us watching the mandatory birthing videos. We were all looking at him like he was crazy because he also once said he wanted six kids. We were like “Bro you plan to have six kids what did you expect you should kind of need to know this” and he essentially said “Well it’s not ME having the babies!!!”. We all lost respect for him after that.

My teacher had a placenta in a Tupperware container that she had in the closet in her classroom. She would take it out and show it to the class when talking about pregnancy. (I can’t remember if it was hers or not. I think that one was, but the previous one wasn’t hers)

During the sex ed unit (though she wasn’t really allowed to talk about how to have safe sex, just about how the reproductive system works, STDs, teen pregnancies, etc.) she on multiple occasions had us play a game of STD Bingo.

The teacher told us about a girl who got pregnant at a neighboring high school because her boyfriend said she couldn’t get pregnant if she was, and I quote, “Holding her breath” while they were doing it. Whether he meant the whole time they were doing it or just the part where they…you know, but either way wtf.

At one point my teacher sent out the baby project, and my sister and I got it at the same time. Our babies somehow were programmed with the same schedule that weekend, too. Complete coincidence.

One time my teacher was having us watch videos on diaper options (fabric or disposable) and she had us cut open diapers in containers and pour water on them to show how the gel inside the diaper works. She mentioned that a girl in another class period had taken a pad out of her bag and, after doing it to the diaper, did it to the pad. She walked by my table, tapped me on the shoulder, and informed me that the girl was my sister.

Hosted class parties for almost every holiday. Christmas, Halloween, Saint Patricks Day, End of The Year, Hundredth Day, Tuesday of 2/22/22, Thanksgiving, Valentines day, EVERYTHING. The teacher would have us come up with child friendly games and activities and food items centered around these themes and prepare them. Those days were a riot.

Once the teacher let us make a huge box fort and it took up the whole class room.

Some of the kids a couple grades below us had ripped the head off of one of her electronic babies, left food messes on the floor and caused ant issues, stole things, etc and my class proceeded to come up with ideas on how to make sure these assholes would stop. We ended up getting the teacher to put child safety locks on the cabinets, and let us write things on the board like “Stop disrespecting (teacher’s) classroom!”

My teacher once inadvertently insulted my family’s culture because I brought her a jar of apple butter (my family gets together every couple years to make a whole batch of homemade apple butter) and her family loved it so much she tried to make it herself…she didn’t put apple cider in it, and she used a crockpot. There were other things she did wrong with this but these were the main two things she messed up in doing. She tried her best though, lol.

We had circle time in her classroom sometimes where we would sit on the ground while she read us a picture book. Once again, we were all high schoolers. We all loved it and for three years tried to find a way to get her a big alphabet reading rug. No luck, unfortunately.

We all on multiple occasions shit talked men. The one boy in our class asked at least three girls if they needed him to go “talk” to some guys that were bothering them. At one point I said that the standard for men is so low it is a tripping hazard and everyone in class started dying laughing and one girl even ran up and high fived me.

My teacher had to write it down as a physical rule that we could not use the washable markers as lightsabers.

The teacher was so sweet and understanding that she felt like a second therapist.

At one point I came into class and excitedly told my teacher that I went to a metal concert and she looked at me with so much concern and said “Did it make you like…angry???” And was kind of shocked when I said no, that wasn’t quite the purpose all the time, but one song in particular made me bawl my eyes out (it was talking about suicide and it made me think of my friend who took their life several months before)

At one point my teacher was out a lot because she got sick on a couple occasions, had a family emergency or two, took one of her (very rare) vacation weeks to go to Italy with her family (her mom was getting sicker and she wanted to spend the time with her) and called off a couple times because her kids got sick and she had to stay home to take care of them (they were toddlers). There was this young bald guy who we all thought was pretty chill and funny at first before he started acting really bad and judged our teacher for taking so many days off even when we explained why, he cursed a lot, he said, regarding the dress code that he didn’t care, that “girls could walk around dressed like sluts/hoes for all he cared”, once sent a girl to detention for pushing up her glasses with her middle finger (I’m pretty sure she didn’t even think of it, she was just pushing up her glasses and he was pissed at her because she had already been calling out his bullshit), hardly even went over lesson plans or explained homework or assignments, and at one point asked us if any of us knew any hot moms. The teacher requested that we did not have that sub again after we told her and even went to the school board about it but the school board said that she should have made her sub notes more clear. Be more clear as to what? “Don’t curse in front of the students!” “Don’t ask if they know any hot moms!” The school board could honestly go fuck themselves on that one.

The teacher would sometimes pull up on the big projector cute little videos of her kiddos being silly or using some of the activities we would make.

These two girls were constantly bickering and roasting each other. The teacher would always remind them to be kind. She also would scold us for cursing and tell us to “respect the language that comes out of our mouths”

The teacher had us play “guess that baby” where we all each submitted a baby photo of ourselves and as a class we would try to guess who the baby was.

We almost ALWAYS were doing preschool and kindergarten activities.

Honestly that class was just too fucking awesome to listen to every single thing that went down in one post

[shouxryuuxha]

The saga

Ok, since the time frame is up I can now say what has been going on since Nov. 18th.

Trigger warnings for mentions of s***de, mention of manipulative behavior, parental death, mention of eating disorder, brief mention of different types of abuse, drug use, harassment, and stalking.

On the 18th of my now ex-roommate decided that through snapchat it would be ok to call me a bunch of things, along with calling my boyfriend slanderous names; questioning his manhood and calling him names like "rabbit" (odd but ok), "pussy" and things like that. He threatened non-payment of rent and continued his gaslighting of me through snapchat since he, as a person, only felt comfortable saying all this ugly and slanderous things over the internet and not to my face; he crumbles like a piece of paper when you confront him in person. He kept it going well into the weekend, saying things like "this is all your doing" "all you wanna do is play house with your rabbit boyfriend" and tried to manipulate by then saying "If you would just apologize, it would be water under the bridge" and other pretty fucked up shit to the point where he wouldn't stop and I had to delete my snapchat, not before I took pictures of over 20 messages from him alone.

That following Monday, Nov. 20th, during therapy, I started getting text messages from someone I didn't know wanting to me to confirm my boyfriend's father's names. I asked who was this, they responded with the same question so I used an alias, and they responded with their name (or probably a fake) saying how after 8 years of having his friend's back, I betrayed them; that's friend's don't keep secrets from friends. Only to then have the gall for me to again, confirm his dad's name. At that point, I blocked the number and after a mild panic attack thinking that this man fully gave out my phone number and possible other details, me and my boyfriend went down to the court house to file a order of protection.

20 minutes before talking to the judge about this, my now ex-roommate proceeds to blow up my email inbox, his first wall of text email starting with the title "I'll drop your name in my s***de note" and with the big wall of text, that when printed was 2 pages long of just vile gaslighting and manipulation. I was granted the order and all I had to do was get it served. Problem is, I didn't know where he was; he was with a friend somewhere and with the safety, he continued to harass me via email for 18 straight days. My complex were given the order and even sent him a email notice that the locks were changed. He didn't care to read it and continued to beratement of me, my character, my past and everything. He said things like "You probably cheated on your exes and you're probably cheating on your [insert bf name] too." Mind you, my first relationship was for 8 years. I moved across the country for this man, just to him to never claim me as his girlfriend due to my weight, race, height---you name it, he claimed it. Manipulated and gaslit me to the point where I developed a eating disorder just to be the weight he wanted among other things to keep me under his control like breaking up with me to get me to beg and spiral, emotional abuse, mental abuse, psychological abuse, and sexual abuse. My second ex, was not only cheating and taking advantage, but he had a whole fiancée on the side that I did not know about which made me a mistress without my consent, on top of his man trying to impregnat me with his child. Luckily, there is no child because I am not dumb.

My ex-roommate threw those in my face, my lack of self esteem in my face, my weight in my face and saying things like "I should have left you stroked out on the floor; fuck me for saving you", referring to the stroke I had last year. All while using the fact that he "saved [your] life" as way to make me owe him for the rest of his life. And then on Thanksgiving, to fully dig in the knife in, he stated in another brick wall of text "Your mother would be ashamed of you" and "How selfish of you to not go and see her as she was dying." My mother passed away on April 6th, 2002. Time of death was call at 9:12 pm. Her viewing was on a Thursday, the burial was on a Friday, my 11th birthday was that Sunday. My mother passed away from Lupus 8 days from my 11th birthday. How dare a 10 year old not know when their singular parent was going to die and not suck it up to go and see her with you know, a feeding tube, a breathing tube, and a dialysis machine all attached at once. But you know, he didn't care, it was just ammunition.

For 18 days. I didn't eat. I was up at 4 AM regardless of work, I was puking bile every morning and due to stress I lost over 15 pounds. I had constant headaches, nothing brought me joy and I was in a constant state of panic. He kept on harassing me through email, sometimes sending 10 emails a day. It got so bad that I had to have my friend filter my emails and put them all away so I could go into my own email. He said I was keeping him from his medication, that me and my lies to the judge and cops are making him homeless and how he will sue me for human rights violations. Waking up to a wall of text, the longest one being 4 pages long was a nightmare. Being called a liar, a fucking bitch, a cunt, a backstabber, and other things left me questioning my own sanity. This is not the first time I've people gaslight me for days, months and some people years just to control me.

I was under a huge mountain of stress. Now add to that stress, having to go into work every day because now you are the sole breadwinner. 18 long days. Finally all came to a head on Dec. 6th. At this point, the complex knew about him, I had retained an attorney, 2 neighbors, my boyfriend, my work place and the complex all had a copy of the order and were instructed to call 911 if he steps foot on property. He had already been trespassed due to the order. It just came down to getting him served. So, around noon, my neighbor texted me saying that he was here at the complex; according to my friend he stated in a email that he was coming back that day and just going straight the gym; he was going to force me to come home to him being there and just force me to go back to normal since his friends told him to "stand his ground" and that "we're going to be a team". He basically wanted to make me help him get his life together after 18 days to beratement and mental and psychological abuse. He wanted me to go back to normal, not talk about it or bring it up in order to sweep it under the rug. He didn't want to be reminded of it so badly, that he began telling me that he did not want my boyfriend sleeping over for the foreseeable future and preferred me to stay at his place and not to have him order until he was ready to have him back.

Yes. The sad thing is, that I condensed alot of things.

But, on the 6th of December, left me with a final message before the officers got there and served him with a full no contact order, INCLUDING EMAIL. This was his final email to me before the cops showed up who fully believed he was in the right for his degusting behavior and fully believes that I lied about him being abusive since he never hit me:

Emotion abuse. Mental abuse. Sexual abuse, Psychological abuse. These are all just as bad as physical abuse and usually, these are precursors to physical abuse.

Now, you're probably wondering, why would anyone do this? Clearly I did something to get him going. What if I told you, that what set this off was half of a conversation that was intended to help him. That his own illegal steroid used paranoia put him in a spiral and caused to do this. Every friend he had all went through this even before the drugs. Whenever he didn't get his way, he would resort to this type of behavior. He blew up a ex-friend's relationship because said ex-friend didn't take him to the gym so he felt entitled to blow up that relationship and reveal things that was not his business to reveal. He cut his foster mom out of his life because of a remark. He threated to dox a girl who was a camming on the side to make extra money to start her candle business and expose her because he wanted a relationship and she didn't. 2 separate girls, one in a different state, called a 5150 because of the stuff he was saying to them and blaming them for his behavior.

So, I am talking about this now because, yesterday was his last day to formally file a contest against the order. He did not. I finally feel I can breathe again. I don't feel like there is a rope around my neck and the feeling of my house feels different.

So, I wanted to come on here and explain myself. I wanted to come on here and apologize for being gone. I feel like those who have known me and know me through writing Shiryu for so long, I feel that I needed to tell you all. I wanted to share this with you and tell those who might be going through something similar, if every fiber of your being is telling you its wrong, its wrong. You are not alone. I hear you and I see you. Physical abuse is not the only form of abuse. Don't let anyone tell you different.

My name is Brooklyn. I am an abuse victim.

[gordonthesquid]

A Squidmas question for you!!

When do you put up your Christmas trees? And when do you take them down?

Here in casa Tracy it's a bit at a time - none of us really have the spare bandwidth to make it an Event with a capital E, and IR will come first.

We usually start pulling the boxes down after Halloween, and they'll stay there unopened for a time. We do have an artificial tree because, you know, tropiiiiiics. Sometime between the second week of November and the weekend after Thanksgiving in America, Scott will start putting the branches together.

If it's still not decorated by December 5th and the boxes are still out, (trust me I have these dates like a science), Virgil will get fed up with them lying around and get a good chunk of the aesthetic ornaments hung.

He'll leave out the sentimental ones, and we'll start to fill it in as we can.

Alan will dig through for the tree skirt. We do have a couple, and then he and I work on the christmas village.

Kayo is in charge of elf security, and she'll make sure she knows the location of Santa's helpers and ensure their safety.

Finally by Dec 23, space breath John will come planet side and put the star on top. There are a few ornaments we'll do together, like Ma and Dad's wedding ornament.

There's only been one Christmas where we almost missed having everything out by the holiday due to rescues. And I blame time zones for that one!!!

Then if I had my way we'd have it out all year and we'd redecorate for different seasons. But I've been vetoed.

[jyndor]

my grandparents being absolute shitheads is almost certainly a response to the generational trauma associated with my family fleeing Ireland during the famine (a product of british imperialism). there is so much anxiety, depression, adhd, ptsd, etc in my family. I know a little of the traumas that my paternal grandma and grandpa went through to survive as children in absolute poverty in manhattan during and after the depression. I know that trauma had an impact on my grandparents when they got rich.

and that's just on my dad's side.

I can respect that without condoning the shitheadery, the racism, the buy-in to us american whiteness in the name of money and safety and power, the shit they did to THEIR kids, the shit THEIR kids did to MY generation. Empathy and understanding sure, but I don't know how to forgive them. or their parents, or THEIR parents, who had to endure God knows what to bring their families here but also who hurt those families in so many ways.

I feel very deeply the lack of culture, the emptiness of white us american-ness; I always have. when I was a baby and my parents chose to move from new york to delaware for a job, I felt the lack of family every holiday when my friends got to just go over to all their families' homes, or when they'd talk about hanging out after school with their grandparents and cousins. I felt the lack of culture when I'd see my friends going through confirmation or having bar/bat mitzvahs, or when I'd go hang out with my friends from cultures that they were still connected to.

so I have mixed feelings about going to family thanksgiving celebrations - and I am not going this year, I don't go most years tbh - because to me, the idea that my family would want to celebrate a holiday based on colonial mythology and genocide is particularly vomitous to me.

this year my sister is very ill and so my parents aren't doing anything (we might get together this weekend, but idk). my birthday is on the 30th, so maybe we'll say it's for that instead.

I think the most insidious part of thanksgiving is that on its face, it's hard to argue with it as a concept - families coming together to be thankful for another year survived together. but what has thanksgiving always been to me? arguing about politics, long drives up to new york and later connecticut, a lot of food I can't eat and don't want to eat, pretending everything's okay when it's not. luckily my parents' generation is pretty good about all cooking together - none of that women in the kitchen while the men watch football shit (at least none that I saw growing up).

thanksgiving to me on a personal level is a veneer of thankfulness over deep pains and divisions that hasn't been resolved. it's kind of like that on a larger scale too - the very mythology at the heart of thanksgiving, the idea that the pilgrims invited the wampanoag people to some great feast at all is a fucking delusional façade over the actual story.

a façade that was commemorated in 1863 by president lincoln, that great emancipator. this of course after the trail of tears in 1830, and centuries of genocide against native americans. and then fdr, that progressive hero, made it a national holiday in 1941. months before interning japanese americans.

and people have the nerve to complain about the "turkey genocide" every year (as a vegetarian myself I reject and denounce those idiots) while still accepting the existence of a holiday built on the genocide of actual people. I like the turkey pardoning but it's also like... what the fuck kind of american bullshit is that, we pardon turkeys every year (good and cool) while millions of people are incarcerated.

truth and reconciliation necessitates recognizing historical and current harm done and working to repair that harm done. we cannot do that while celebrating thanksgiving.

land back now. reparations now. decolonization globally and domestically NOW. I'll thank my ancestors for their survival on a different day. my birthday sounds like as good a day as any tbh - what better way to thank them than to have been born and continue to live? the only better way may be to fight the very thing that made them refugees in the first place - imperialism.

[punkpoemprose]

Yule Shoot Your Eye Out- Oneshot Kristanna Modern AU

Universe: Modern AU

Rating: T (Teen +) Mentions of alcohol and firearms

Length: 935 Words

Summary: Anna and Kristoff are both relaxing in different ways after having the family over for the holidays in preparation for their engagement photos. Hi-jinks ensue. 

A/N: Advent Day 5, taking a little break from updating ongoing fics. Is this based on a true event? I’ll never tell... but depending on how well our photographer can photoshop, our engagement photos might. Shhh don’t tell my fiance.

It was the perfect day to pamper herself and Anna was fully intending to enjoy it. She and Kristoff had just pulled off their first family Thanksgiving the night before and now that the dust had settled, the relatives were gone, and all the dishes were finally done, she fully planned to take a nice bath with an overpriced holiday bath bomb and kill the remaining half of the bottle of red blend she'd opened the night before. She was dead set on pampering herself, both because she deserved it and because she wanted to look her best the next day for the photo session she and Kristoff had booked to snap some engagement photos to use on their wedding invitations. They’d been waiting forever to get them done, the photographer they’d both wanted had been booked up for months and they’d barely managed to sneak in as evidently very few people wanted to have their photos taken on a Holiday weekend. 

She'd been so excited to have all her family and friends around yesterday, the sort of gathering she'd longed for since childhood, but now she felt the exhaustion the excitement had been masking. Her social battery was totally drained for being around anyone for the day, save for Kristoff, and she was recharging without him regardless. He and Sven had planned their own relaxing day and Anna hadn't asked questions about what exactly that entailed because frankly she’d been too exhausted.

She smiled when she realized the tub was full to her satisfaction, she’d spent a not insignificant time getting the water temperature just right and was fully looking forward to removing her robe and settling in before adding the bath bomb to the water and watching it fizz. She really was trying to focus on herself and the small pleasures of a relaxing day.

That was until, of course, she heard the front door open then close abruptly.

“Anna?”

She sighed, giving the tub a rueful look as she asked herself if she should reevaluate whether Kristoff’s presence was conducive to her recovering her sanity post holiday.

He sounded nervous, and Kristoff almost never sounded anxious. Flustered? Yes. Exhausted? Yes. Tense was, however, an exceedingly rare emotion for him, especially in the safety of their home. That alone was enough to make her give up on her bath and exit the bathroom in her robe. 

“Kristoff?” she called, hearing him from the direction of the kitchen before she saw him standing in front of the fridge, the freezer door open and covering his face from her view. 

“Oh, I thought you and Sven were supposed to be gone for another hour or two. I’m surprised to see you home so early. Is something wrong? Are you both okay?”

“We were… I mean we’re both, um… fine.”

Anna frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. He still sounded nervous and now she couldn’t chock it up to his not knowing where she was. 

“That doesn’t sound very suspicious at all.”

She could hear him digging in the freezer for something and rather than wait for him to find it she walked around to the other side of the door.

“What are you looking for?”

He was staring into the freezer, face beet red as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have. She could only see one side of his face clearly, and she wondered what exactly could have him so worked up.

“Frozen peas.”

She reached past him and pulled the bag off of the door shelf just to the side of his face.

When she handed it to him and he sheepishly pressed it to his eye, she understood why he was acting so cagey.

“Kristoff Bjorgman, what did you do to your face?”

He turned to face her then, knowing he’d been caught. 

“Well Sven and I thought going to the range might be fun given we haven’t been in a while and I tried out his new scope and, well…”

Anna wasn’t much for guns. She could appreciate that Sven and Kristoff had a hobby they enjoyed together and that they were responsible about it, but she hadn’t exactly poured hours of research into learning about it. That said even she could make two and two equal four in this instance.

“You got hit in the eye with the scope and tomorrow morning you’re going to have a massive bruise.”

Even with the bag of peas obscuring half his face Anna could see how apologetic he looked.

She couldn’t help herself when she groaned, “Oh Kristoff, our pictures.”

“Sven said he was going to get some concealer at the store… also an eyepatch, but I think that’s a joke?”

Anna sighed, closed the freezer door and started walking to their bedroom, dragging her feet the whole way.

So much for some rest and relaxation.

 “He won’t get the right color. I’ll get dressed, you go get the car started.”

When she heard him immediately heading for the door, she couldn’t help but smile despite their situation. She was marrying her best friend, and if she had to suffer the occasional mishap, it seemed a small price to pay.

As she walked by the bathroom, the door still wide open with a pleasantly steaming tub all but mocking her, she pointed at it and then at her eyes and back again.

“I’m coming back for you later.” 

She supposed that the photos of them with his black eye, if not engagement announcement and invitation worthy, would at least make a funny christmas card, and an even better story. 

[beautifulreflections]

Blog Post 2: Camping and S'mores

Camping and S’mores

We were headed to South Georgia for some family camping. The car was cramped, and the kids were tucked safety inside their car seats with sleeping bags packed as unwanted cushions all around them. As it turns out, a Camry is a good family car, but it is not large enough for those families who desire to go camping in the middle of the woods. Honestly, primitive camping is something I would much rather go without. Perhaps I could fast from primitive camping? That would be a fast I would greatly enjoy.

Even so, we were headed to camp in the middle of the woods that my husband’s side of the family’s owned. It was a great and beautiful expanse of acreage smack dab in center of nowhere. The truth is I’m not accustomed to glamping, but I do believe that women need a bathroom. With men it’s quite a different story, but me, bring on the community bathrooms in the middle of the state parks and well-known campgrounds. This is my cup of tea.

            We stopped by my husband’s grandmother’s house to use the bathroom before we drove into the woods where we would be staying for the next few days. I thanked God for the indoor plumbing and then headed out into the cold night with my family. The tent was simple to put together, but we had a little trouble starting the fire. The temperature had already plummeted substantially. It was supposed to be in the thirties at night all weekend. Thankfully, we purchased the 30 degree sleeping bags and had the space heater so that none of ended up sick by the end of the weekend.

            By the second night we all had our share of fun, but my oldest son especially was ready to get inside the house. “I’m ready to leave and go up to Memomma’s house but I don’t want to spoil Dad’s fun” he said. I truly do love camping. I have nostalgic memories of family camping on Jekyll Island and eating shrimp and grits for days because my dad always got a bargain on local shrimp. There were always delicious dinners, and smores. Once we even roasted them in the tent with a lighter, but Mom thought they tasted like lighter fluid, so we only had one.

            “I’m going to the store to get food,” my husband said that morning. So, me and my sons went and took a hot bath indoors at Memomma’s house to warm us up after the long night. By the time we got back to the campsite it was lunch time. We had just finished shooting practice (our boys have Red Rider BB guns) and my husband said, “Who’s ready for lunch.” We had pretzels and hotdogs. I noticed the bags in the back of the car. Haribo gummy bears and even a plethora of delicious s'mores ingredients. I thought about having one s'more and ten gummy bears.

“Mom, can my make my s'more,” said my youngest son. So, I did. I sat patiently by the fire laboring for a hot and delicious smore that I wanted to eat so badly because really, what is camping without smores? I mean really, is it even possible to go camping without smores? It’s unamerican I tell you. But, I made my youngest son His smore and watched the white turn to golden brown. Then I grabbed the s'more maker and assembled the graham cracker, marshmallow, and chocolate as is custom, then watched the chocolate melt off the sides.

Honestly, I wouldn’t suggest camping without s'mores, but as it turns out, you can camp without s'mores. We walked through the woods, shot BB guns, played soccer, ate snacks, made mac and cheese, and looked at stars. The s'mores and gummy bears were eaten but I ate none. That second night I had a banana and some sleepy time tea without honey. And even though I prefer camping with s'mores, as it turns out, you can go camping without them. I know, I didn’t think it was possible either.

When we got back to our house my mom made some cakes to share with us. A strawberry cake, and a strawberry cheesecake. Both are my favorite. And she never bakes like this except on Thanksgiving and Christmas. Then, when I got to school this morning there was a table of free delicious Dunkin Donuts with sugar laden Sunny D juice. I passed the table to write to you. Apparently, the world is trying to trip me up. But I have seen that my self-control has grown tenfold over these past couple of weeks. Where I wouldn’t have hesitated to eat at least one of each of these things, I abstained. So, I’d say that’s progress.

[beardedmrbean]

President Biden's rented Secret Service vehicles burst into flames in a parking lot Monday, just one day after he left his Nantucket vacation.

Biden spent Thanksgiving on the ritzy Massachusetts island with his family last week. The Secret Service rented five vehicles from Hertz to carry the president and his family, and all five of them caught fire in the parking lot, according to footage first obtained by the Nantucket Current.

Footage shows firefighters spraying down the smoldering remains of one vehicle's engine block. The five vehicles included a Chevy Suburban, Ford Explorer, Infiniti QX80, Ford Expedition, and a Jeep Gladiator.

The vehicles were parked at the Nantucket airport and the blaze reportedly spread to just 40 feet away from the facility's jet fuel tanks. It is currently unknown what caused the fire. Fox News reached out to the  White House for information, but they did not immediately respond.

NEWSOM WON'T CHALLENGE BIDEN IN 2024, SAYS HE IS ‘ALL IN’ ON PRESIDENT'S RE-ELECTION

"At approximately 5:22 am Airport shift staff observed an active fire in the rental car overflow area through the Airport's Closed Circuit Television System," the airport said in a statement to the Current. "Staff activated the Alert system and responded to the fire in Airport-3, where they were met by responding units from Nantucket Fire Department and Nantucket Police Department."

BILL BENNETT SAYS BIDEN ADMINISTRATION 'TURNED A BLIND EYE' TO FENTANYL CRISIS

"Combined fire resources responded and contained the fire. Several vehicles were damaged. The Airport is currently coordinating with rental car agencies and agency partners to ensure scene safety, There is no longer an active fire at this time: the Airport is open, and aeronautical operations are not affected," the statement continued.

Biden spent the Nantucket weekend celebrating the holiday with his family, telling reporters that they were not having any discussions about a potential presidential run in 2024.

The Bidens stayed at a waterfront compound along Nantucket Harbor. The family members on the trip included Ashley and Hunter Biden. The family has a more than 40-year tradition of spending Thanksgiving on the island.

The getaway was the first vacation for the Biden family since they went to another secluded East Coast island in August, when the President, first lady, and Hunter Biden all flew on Air Force One to Kiawah Island in South Carolina.

Outings around major holidays and in the late summer are not uncommon for U.S. presidents. Presidents George W. Bush, Barack Obama, and Donald Trump all took similar vacations throughout their time in office. Bush would often spend the time at his Texas ranch, while Obama and Trump both preferred golf resorts in New England.

[casspurrjoybell-17]

HEART'S FATE - CHAPTER 31

*Warning: Adult Content*   

Skylar West is good at many things but Martin Hunter appreciates some of his skills more than others. 

Skylar’s expertise with distraction and deflection for example, Martin could do without.

Every time the single dad tried to bring up what happened at the coast, the art teacher turns Martin’s attention to something else.

A kiss and like some Fairy-tale Prince caught in a spell, Martin forgets what it was he meant to say, a softly spoken word and the older man’s priorities shift.

At the same time, Martin can't help but feel that Skylar grows more distant day by day and by the time the weekend approaches again, it seems the younger man hardly has a moment to spare for him. 

Thursday morning, as Martin sees his four children off to school, he hugs himself as a brisk November breeze rattles the few remaining leaves still clinging to the skeletal branches of the trees. 

Winter will set in soon, locking the little mountain town in a cycle of snow and ice until the warm breath of spring breathes life into the land again. 

Thanksgiving approaches, Ambrose Thorne and Noah Hunter have offered to host it at their place, which is big enough to hold everyone and the winter holidays loom beyond. 

In the meantime, though, all Martin can think about is a phone call he hasn't yet received.

"You did say that he was rather old," Skylar points out distractedly when Martin brings the matter up for the fourteenth time. 

"Perhaps he simply forgot. You ought to give him a call and check into it."

Martin watches as Skylar packs more art supplies into a large duffel bag. 

"You're probably right," the older man says and sighs disconsolately, he doesn't imagine calling a doctor's office is on anyone's list of favorite things to do. "What are you packing for, anyway?"

"There's an art show this weekend down in Sacramento," he says. "Thought I'd go."

"Oh..." Martin rubs the back of his neck and glances around the cozy studio apartment which, a few weeks earlier, was nothing but a barren garage. 

"That sounds fun."

Skylar glances up at him. 

"I'd have invited you, but the children might find it rather boring."

"The children needn't be invited by default," Martin points out.

Skylar lifts a brow at him. 

"Would you leave them, though?"

Martin breaks eye contact and look away. 

"I know I'm a little overprotective. I don't want to hover but..." 

Rising, Skylar crosses the room and rests his hand on Martin’s shoulder. 

"I know. You've good reason to be protective. And I didn't mean it that way. It's only a short trip, far more business than pleasure. If it was the latter, I'd have you with me, for sure."

Martin nods, still not quite able to meet the younger man’s eyes and excuses himself as Skylar resumes packing.

                                                     ******

Martin decides to put off the call to Dr Howard, until the afternoon, when he had finished his work for the day but before the children get home and in the intervening time, he did his best to concentrate.

He nearly jumps out of his seat when his cell-phone rings around noon, narrowly avoiding a disastrous accident as he knock over his coffee cup and brown liquid spills across his desk like a tiny encroaching tide. 

Lifting his laptop to safety, he answer the call with a breathless. 

Hello?" 

He sags with relief as he hears his agent's voice on the other end of the line. 

"Hey, Martin. How are you?" she asks.

"Trish. Hi... um... good. It's good. I mean, I'm good," he says and cringes. 

His social skills are far from top tier, especially when unprepared. 

"What's up?"

"Good news," she says. 

"Sales of your last book are steady and your editor says you've got the next one in the bag. The publisher wants at least two more in this series, with a pretty good advance for your genre, if you can guarantee delivery in six months."

‘Two books in six months?’

He rubs his jaw. 

That used to be nothing, I could have done it in his sleep. 

Now, just the thought gives him heartburn.

"Two books?" he repeats. "Could you talk them down to one?"

"I tried, Martin," Trish says, suddenly sounding a lot more honest and a lot more tired. 

"You're not up and coming anymore, you've got a solid following and a reliable audience for your books but they wouldn't budge. It's a cutthroat business. For every established author, there are hundreds willing to work ten times as hard for a tenth of the pay. You know how it is."

He rolls his eyes. 

He does but it doesn't make it any better. 

In his head, he does a series of rapid calculations.

Things are different now. 

With Skylar's help, his family at his back and the weight of guilt and pain finally beginning to lift from his heart, Martin is in a place where he can say 'yes' to this without fearing it will kill me.

"Okay," he says, hearing the smile in his voice. 

"Tell them I'll do it."

"I'll send the contract over," she says, sounding relieved. 

"Read it carefully. There are some new stipulations I couldn't worm us out of but overall, I think it's fair... considering."

"Considering what?" he asks, made wary once more by her tone.

"Just... how long it took you to finish the last one," she says apologetically. 

"I've been on your editor's ass and I know she's been on yours and the publisher's been on mine. I'm sorry, Martin but this is a big deal, okay? It'll make or break you. Understand?"

Martin Hunter swallows. 

"Yeah. I understand, Trish. Thanks."

"Hey," she says, her tone warming. 

"You're my friend, Marty. I only want what's best for you, all right?"

"Yeah, me too," he says, his throat tightening at the nickname only his family use for him and ends the call.

                                                       ******

By 3:00 p.m., he’s sweating. 

Martin is both dying to know and afraid that knowing will end him but with an hour before the kids get home, he calls Dr. Braden Howard on the direct line the Doctor had given him. 

He answers after five rings, long enough to make Martin wonder if he'd been staring at his number and contemplating whether or not to pick up. 

"Dr. Braden Howard speaking," he says, as if he's answering on a two-piece receiver from eighty years ago and not the latest model iPhone Martin knows he has.

"Dr. Howard... it's Martin Hunter," I say. "Umm... I haven't gotten the results yet, and I was wondering..."

"Haven't gotten the results yet," he exclaims, so vehemently that I imagine him in black and white, clapping his hand to his forehead, like a scientist in a Mel Brooks parody. 

"I was sure I sent them along to you! Must have slipped my mind."

"Do you have them?" Martin asks.

"Have them? Of course I have them," the single dad hears papers rustling, followed by what sounds like glass breaking and Dr. Howard swearing under his breath.

Martin waits and at last, the Doctor is back on the line.

"Sorry about that, kid," he says, sounding slightly out of breath. "The truth is... Well, the truth is..."

"Doctor Howard, please," Martin says, breaking in. 

"Please, just tell me. I need to know. I mean... you understand, this is my life. My... everything."

The single dad shuts up as emotion tightens around his throat like a vice.

For a long moment, there's silence. 

Then, Dr. Howard sighs.

"Alright. You know what? Fuck it. I got good news and bad news, kid," he says. 

"Congratulations, or maybe consolations, I don't fucking know at this point. Either way, you're a father. 99% sure. Now, I know you're one of a set but your fellow triplets are fraternal, not identical, right? Even if one of them had fucked your wife, the results wouldn't be the same. Unless you got an evil twin somewhere, you're Nico and Rio's biological father, for sure.."

Martin covers his mouth to contain the sob that chokes him and then take a breath. 

"Okay, so what's the bad news?" he asks.

Doctor Howard sighs.

"That ex-wife of yours is something else, you know that? She paid me a visit. Threatened me. Told me to destroy the results or change my report. Fortunately, I'd sent everything off to the lab already, once it's out of my hands, it's official record. Nothing I can tamper with."

"Are you okay?" Martin asks him, anxiety triggering a slideshow of horrors to play through his mind.

Dr. Howard chuckles. 

"I'm eighty-seven years old, kid," he says, "And entirely human, despite my associations. She scared me, yeah. But what's she gonna threaten me with? Death?" he cackles. 

"I'm perfectly fine. It's you I'm concerned about. That bitch wasn't at all pleased when I sent her on her way, though. Best keep an eye on those sweet boys of yours. I got a bad feeling, if you know what I mean."

"Thank you, Doctor Howard," Martin says, resting his face in his palm and breathing a sigh. 

"I will. I'm sorry you were dragged into this."

"No worries, kid. I'll make sure the results are stored safely and get you a copy in the mail. Should be there in a day or two. Take care."

The doctor ends the call and Martin Hunter lets the phone fall from his hand and clatter to the floor as he drops to his knees.

The single dad doesn't know what to feel or what he’s feeling but what starts as quiet catches in his breath soon grows into deep, uncontrollable sobs as his mess of emotions overcome him like a sleeper wave, knocking him down and pulling him under hard.

And that's how Skylar West finds him, sometime later, curled in a ball on the kitchen floor. 

[biaaylesworth]

Never the Same

Amid a New Girl rewatching, I obviously fell in love with Cece and Schmidt again. The lack of fanfics made me write this humble start of something 🫶🏻

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Surrendering… I felt it every time he touched me. His hands, his lips, his warmth surrounding me, making love to me with devoted passion, bringing in me a weird synergy of safety and adoration that makes me feel disgusted and addicted at the same time. I unapologetically come back seeking more, and he delivers better every time. I literally bit my shoulders and cummed so hard I lost my senses just to come back with the timbre of his cocky voice, babbling over what? boobies?

Disgusting, yeah, this is it. I’m out! That would be the last time.

Who was I kidding? I couldn’t let go. I was feeling him all over me. My pussy was throbbing, and I was literally soaked wet, just by remembering our rendezvous, which at that point was nothing more than two perfectly long nights. God! That men have stamina. Who would’ve thought that that idiotic serial douche beg, out of all men in my life - I mean I had so many sexual encounters - would be the best laid I ever had in my whole life? Nothing makes sense!

All I wanted was a fling, rebound sex, and make Caio pay for being a beautiful-cheating- mushroomy mess.

Fine, I confess since thanksgiving I developed a massive crush on Schmidt, that mix of sweetness and rage underneath that over-dramatic way and OCD. No man had ever yelled at me like that. My heart was brought to life right at that moment. 

But if I’m being completely honest, my view of him began to change when we both were completely bare of our social masks, exhausted from that freaking long weekend, of me being a complete jerk, we confessed to each other we hate sleeping alone. The sweetness and tenderness got me by surprise. It made me feel safe enough to open up and let that soft side of me out. So deeply did I burred that side of myself that I could no longer reach out to it.

 Schmidt did it, though.

Albeit, I was only used to dating unidimensional men. Schmidt was anything but. I only realised how important this was after him. He was sweet, enraged, the cleanest and the dirtiest, so overdramatic and funny, so intelligent, and he has a naivety-ish way to love. He would do anything for the people he cared about. So many layers with him. The way he looked at me as if I was the best thing that ever happened to him. No prize or a trophy though, pride. As though I had value, he was interested in getting to know me, finding out where my heart lay, making me laugh, and making me happy.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. This whole situation wasn’t meant to become this consuming sick passion. I thought I would be disappointed, laugh at his unseasonable forwardness and never have to look at him again.

But the more we got involved, the more my body got devoted exclusively to his most deviant fantasies. He pushed all my buttons, figuratively and literally. He possessed me completely. Every encounter was different and greater. We started spending hours talking about everything and nothing. Our cool facade was gone when were together under his sheets, shielding us from the loneliness we felt for so many years. It was our sanctuary, our safe harbour.

[noahb216]

GOOD AFTERNOON

Give peace to anxious hearts, please God, and comfort to those who suffer.. Help the searcher find an answer and the confounded to know the truth.. Bring healing into the mind and body, set the spirit free.. Touch the shoulder of the late night servant so she or he will know they are not alone.. Lift up the children to laugh in safety while the elders watch from a place of quiet care.. Please God, cover our Earth with your blessings, let your light shine in every corner.. Hold your family close so that we may hear you breathing..

Let us know that you are here and that we need never fear..

Touch those who are grieving, touch the sick and shut-in, touch those who are going through the storm of life challenges, touch and heal the land, touch our minds and hearts in throughout this election season with so much confusion and doubts, touch the hearts and minds of those in leadership soften the hearts of kings oh God. We trust you and surrender all these things to you and our other concerns and issues in Jesus Mighty Name ....Amen.🙏 🍂

For the LORD will comfort Zion, He will comfort all her waste places;He will make her wilderness like Eden, And her desert like the garden of the LORD; Joy and gladness will be found in it, Thanksgiving and the voice of melody.

— Isaiah 51:3 KJV

M.Haislah

Jeremiah 29:11 🕊

HAVE A WONDERFUL WEEKEND 😊