#all this because my dad may not be able to help me cover therapy costs next year :||| so that extra $500 a month has to come from SOMEWHERE | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

resident-leevil-old · 3 years ago

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okay well anyways somebody asked me if i felt like talking about my raccoon city survivors au with mia and ethan again and the answer is YES.

> AU MINI FACTS <

- Ethan's mother died while giving birth.

- Ethan Winters and his father moved into Raccoon City when Ethan was a baby, around 3-4 years old.

- Ethan trans ftm because im trans and i said so.

- Mia trans mtf because im trans and i said so.

- Ethan & Mia are childhood friend to lovers in this au.

- Ethan's father worked for Umbrella, and Mia's father worked for the Connections while her mother also worked for Umbrella.

- Mia was born in Texas, but her family moved to Raccoon City after she was born. They still owned property in Texas, though.

- Mia & Carlos are related because I said so.

- so yknow the "dude its been three years" guy? that's their childhood friend and his name is Kyde because i said so.

- Albert Wesker Personally was ordered by Spencer to kill those scientists btw.

- a lot of this au is because i said so tbh

> AU SUMMARY <

Ethan Winters, Mia Oliviera, and Kyde Wells work together to survive six days of the Raccoon City Outbreak. In the process they uncover secrets and encounter many obstacles that just nearly cost them their lives.

> CHAR.BGROUND <

ETHAN W, SR - A scientist who worked for Umbrella. He lost his wife during the birth of his child E///// Winters. Struggling with the death of his wife and the harsh decline of his mental health, he began to experiment with viruses and vaccines in an attempt to bring his wife back, even using his child as a subject at certain points due to the child having strong genes from the mother. He acknowledged that he was a horrid father, but justified his actions by claiming he would bring back a better mother. He thought of Albert Wesker as a friend, and told him the truth of his research.

ETHAN W, JR - A quiet 14 year old that had a hard time making friends. Due to experiments from his father, Ethan is a culmination of infections and viruses that each impact him in different ways. As he grew up Ethan refrained from talking too much as to not interrupt his father's work, causing him to become selectively mute.

MIA OLIVIERA - Younger sister of Carlos Oliviera. Mia skipped a grade due to her intelligence and advanced knowledge on many things kids her age normally didn't. She very easily got sick as a child, though she seemed to outgrow it as she got older. She was schooled both at home and at school before the outbreak. She shared classes with Ethan Winters (Jr) and Kyde Wells.

KYDE WELLS - A friend of Ethan & Mia, known for his cowardice. Kyde has a heavy sense of self preservation, but a weighted sense of compassion as well. He only ever has risked himself for his two friends.

JAMES HARISON - Mia's father. He worked for the Connections as a scientist and a researcher. Harison and his wife often exchanged information they learned from their jobs, aiming to and succeeding at "fixing" their daughter's proneness to viral sicknesses.

MARISA OLIVIERA - Mia's mother. He worked for Umbrella as a researcher. Oliviera and her husband often exchanged information they learned from their jobs, aiming to and succeeding at "fixing" their daughter's proneness to viral sicknesses.

JAKE VERANO - An Umbrella worker who had been trapped in the underground facility for a week, listening to the sound of his coworkers being eaten alive. Unstable because of his experience, he tries to create a cure using the intel of Ethan W (SR).

> FULL AU <

[September, 25, 1998.]

Ethan Winters walked home from school when his father failed to pick him up. He walked through the streets, paying no mind to a big fight breaking out near him. On the way home, he meets up with his friend Kyde who had also been walking home. They talk and walk together for a bit, before splitting up.

When Ethan arrived home, he noticed the front door of his house had been opened slightly. Confused, but wary, he entered the house, knowing it was uncharacteristic for his father to forget the door was open.

He entered the living room, and found his father laying on the ground dead, shot twice in the head, having just been killed moments prior. Ethan moved over to his father, before Albert Wesker walked out of his father's office.

Ethan barely has much time to react to him, overwhelmed by his own panic and the death of the only adult in his life. Wesker - wanting no witnesses - shoots him three times in the chest, and leaves under the impression the child is dead for good.

Ethan Winters dies for the first time that evening.

[September, 27, 1998]

For the past two days, Mia and her parents have been barricaded in their home, unable to leave safely. Mia sat in her room for most of the time, unable to look out of the windows due to boards covering them. During those two days Mia tries to call Ethan and Kyde several times in hopes that they were safe. Neither of them answer.

Until this day, the 27th, at 2:00 am, when she calls Ethan. And he answers.

{TRANSCRIPT OF THEIR CALL:}

Ethan: h-hello?

Mia: [Ethan]! You're alive! Are you okay?

Ethan: I'm breathing. [Pause] I'm breathing. You okay?

Mia: I'm boarded up in my house, we can't leave safely. Everything is a mess. I'm so glad you're alive, [Ethan]. Are you safe? I'm guessing you're safe.

Ethan: Not sure. Not sure. Find you soon, here alone. Alone.

Mia: Alone? What happened? Where's your dad?

Ethan: [Pause.] [Loud sound in the distance.]

Mia: [Ethan]? Are you okay?

Ethan: [Dial tone.]

Mia speaks with her parents about the call, expressing worry about her friend. She spends a while trying to convince her parents that Ethan may be alive (purposefully omitting the dial tone) and need their help. Finally, they agree, and at 12 pm, they head out with all the resources they could gather.

Managing to stay out of sight, the family make it to the Winters' household. They find Ethan hiding in his bedroom, one infected laying in the hallway with a pole through its head and Ethan's father laying in the living room dead.

They rescue Ethan, and flee from the house. Mia's parents explain that they need to evacuate the city, but that they wouldn't be able to drive, so they'd have to move on foot. They returned to their house and rested for the night.

[September, 28, 1998]

The family and Ethan head out again, this time aiming to evacuate the city. After several close encounters with large groups of infected, the kids and Mia's parents are unfortunately separated. Given instructions by her parents, Mia leads Ethan through the city, having to take detours due to infected blocking pathways.

Eventually, during the night, they run into Kyde, who has lost his parents trying to escape the city. The three of them take refuge in an empty abandoned house, and rest for the walk in the morning.

Ethan sits up for a while, thinking about what happened to him, and trying to figure out how to explain it to his friends. Eventually he falls asleep, unable to figure it out. In the morning they head out again.

[September, 29-30, 1998]

During another detour taken due to large groups of infected, Ethan is kidnapped by a man in a white lab coat.

Mia & Kyde go after them, refusing to leave Ethan behind. They manage to find him after roughly half a day had passed.

Ethan had been in a hysterical state and through tears he explains to Mia and Kyde what had happened to him in his house a few days ago, confessing that he had died and revived two days later. He warns the two of them that whatever Jake, the white lab coat man, did to him, it made him dangerous and unstable.

Mia and Kyde refused again to leave him behind, and spend hours gathering information from files and research left scattered around. They manage to make Something that was able to calm him down and cleanse what they had learned had been called the "T-virus" from his body.

As soon as Ethan had woken up again, they fleed the facility, Mia & Kyde both making sure he didn't collapse on the way.

[October, 1, 1998]

They don't stop running when they're out. A broadcast goes out saying that the city will be blown up in four hours due to being unable to contain the outbreak. The three of them realize they won't be able to get out if they take anymore detours unless they find a vehicle with gas in it and a clear road to drive on.

Three hours later, out of options, nearly to the city boarder, and faced with another group of infected blocking the only straight shot out, they decide to risk a run through. However, just as they were pushing through, a helicopter flew overhead and spotted them. Calling to them, the pilot tells them to attempt making it up a building nearby if they could.

Through pure bullshittery and luck, they manage to make it up, and they board the helicopter. Just as it begins to take flight, the city starts to blow up bit by bit. In the distance, they see other helicopters flying.

> AFTER THE AU <

Mia and her parents reunite, her parents having managed to get out before the children did. Kyde goes to live with his relatives in Texas, and Ethan is offered to live with them as well.

Mia's parents move back to their texas home, and everyone who had been in the city were given therapy. Eventually the three grow up and graduate from highschool, and move on to other things, never once separating.

The three of them eventually move into a single house together in California, and some time after that Mia and Ethan get married. And for a while they live happily

And then, Mia witnesses Ethan having some sort of attack in the middle of the night one time, and realizes that he hadn't been completely cured of whatever had been infecting him in the city at all, and that it had only gone dormant for some years. While he wasn't vicious or attacking anyone, Ethan had just been really plagued and didn't even remember the fits that only seemed to happen every other night.

Out of worry and fear, Mia begins to work for the Connections, hoping there was something she could learn from them in order to help her husband finally be cured. And years after, RE7 began.

And THAT, my friends, is my Raccoon City Survivors au with the Winters, also known as Raccoon City Winters.

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bettsfic · 4 years ago

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how i got an agent, or: my writing timeline

when i started writing, i had no idea how publishing worked and i had a lot of misconceptions about it. but i just signed my first literary agent so i thought i’d share what my experience has been getting to this point, in case it helps anyone else with their own publication goals. i’m also including financial details, like submission fees and income, because “i could never afford to pursue writing as a career” is something that kept me from taking the idea seriously.

for context, i write mostly literary fiction and i’m on the academic/scholarly writing path. this process looks a lot different for other genres.

i didn’t write this in my pretty nonfiction narrative voice; it’s really just the bare-bones facts of how it went down, how long it took, how many words i wrote (both fanfiction and original fiction), and how much it all cost.

background

2002 - 2005: read a fuckton of books, wrote some fiction, wanted to be a writer but knew it would never happen, journaled every moment of my life in intimate detail

2006: started working full-time (at a chinese restaurant) while still in high school, also started taking courses for college credit; no time to write, and forgot i had ever wanted to be a writer

2007: graduated high school, started college (psych major), still worked at the restaurant, moved out of my parents’ house into an apartment with my boyfriend; my dad got diagnosed with stage 3 colon cancer

2008: continued college full-time, quit the restaurant and started part-time as a bank teller, broke up with bf and moved in with a friend at an apartment where the rent was obscenely high; had to pick up a second job altering bridal gowns

2009: continued college full-time, started dating someone else, moved in with him, had to support him, took a third job as an admin assistant

2010: continued college full-time, still had 3 jobs; my dad’s cancer became terminal

2011: my dad passed away; i graduated college with a 3.9 and $31k of debt; quit 2 of 3 jobs; got promoted at the bank; my bf cheated on me and we broke up; moved back in with my mom

2012: a very dark time; also, bought a house (because where i’m from, it’s cheaper to buy than rent)

2013: discovered fandom

2014, age 24

this is the year i started writing and posting fanfic. prior to that i was a compulsive journaler but had no drive or desire to become a writer, despite how much i had written when i was a teenager. it seemed like a very childish dream. at this point i assumed writing was just a phase like all my other hobbies i’d picked up and set down.

but fandom proved to be really healthy for me, and i made some good friends who encouraged my writing and made me want to be better at it. i was really not very good at writing. i don’t think i had any natural creative talent whatsoever, or even a particularly vivid imagination. the only thing i had going for me was the ability to put thoughts into words after a decade of obsessive journaling.

i started writing in spring, and by the end of the year my total word count was 311k. i was making a decent income at the bank, insofar as my bills were covered and i had health insurance. i still had a significant amount of credit card debt from college that i was trying to pay down, and which was eating up all my extra income.

2015, age 25

i continued writing through 2015 and went to visit @aeriallon, whom i’d met in fandom and who told me i should consider applying to MFAs. i was miserable at the bank and knew i wanted to go back to school, but i didn’t think there was a chance in hell a grad program would accept me, since my writing wasn’t very good and i hadn’t so much as taken a single english class in undergrad. she told me to just look around and do a few google searches to see what i found.

when i started searching, i assumed i would probably be more compelled toward an MEd or MSW programs and go the therapy route, which is what the plan had been in undergrad before my dad died and my life got derailed. i never wanted to be a banker, but i’d got a promotion into commercial finance that paid decently, so i took it and told myself i’d work for a year before going back to school. but then i kept getting promoted and one year became many.

i ended up being more drawn to creative writing MFA programs because they seemed to want people with weird backgrounds like mine. also the classes sounded fun and the programs were funded. i didn’t know how i would be able to afford my mortgage payment or sell my house on a fraction of the income i was making at the bank, but i figured i’d apply and see what happened.

it took 6 months to get a writing sample ready to apply to MFAs. it was the only ofic story i’d written as an adult, and in retrospect i had no idea what i was doing because at that point i didn’t read literary short fiction. but i got the sample as good as i could get it and completed my applications. i applied to 6 schools and got accepted into 1.

in 2015 i wrote 250k. i can’t find my application spreadsheet from that year, but i probably spent between $300 and $400 on application fees. early in the year, i had finally managed to pay off my credit card debt and save a little bit of money.

2016, age 26

the school i got into was within driving distance of my house, so i didn’t bother moving. i tried to quit the bank but my boss convinced me to stay on 2 days a week working from home. i agreed to it, because my grad stipend wasn’t enough to cover my bills, and i was counting on what little savings i had accrued to get me through the program. i still had no drive or interest to publish. i mostly just wanted to go back to school so i could learn how to be better at this thing i really enjoyed doing.

in the MFA, as you might imagine, i had to read a lot of stuff and write a lot of stuff, and was encouraged to begin submitting some of the short stories i wrote for workshop. i was not particularly into the idea, considering it seemed like a lot of work for little reward, and also i didn’t think my stories were very good.

i also started teaching english comp. i hated it and decided that after the MFA, i never wanted to do it again. haha. hahahahahaha

in 2016 i wrote 343k. i didn’t apply/submit in 2016 so i didn’t pay any fees, but my grad stipend was $14k for the academic year, plus the income i was making at the bank.

2017, age 27

i did a complete 180 and decided i loved teaching more than anything else in the entire world, and i was willing to do whatever it took to become a teacher. i realized that to become a teacher, i needed to publish. begrudgingly i started submitting to literary journals. i also applied to summer workshops and got into tin house, which i highly recommend if that’s something you’re interested in. at tin house i met my dream agent, who seemed really interested in my work and encouraged me to query her as soon as i had a book done.

a lot of personal drama happened that year. i was still working at the bank in addition to teaching a 2/2 and taking a full course load. in summer i had a long overdue mental breakdown.

2017 was a rough year. i wrote 149k. this is the year i started keeping a dedicated expenses spreadsheet. i spent $174 in submission fees. tin house tuition with room and board was a little over $1500 + travel. i thought it was worth it because i met the agent i thought i would later sign, but that didn’t pan out. (i made some great friends though!!) tin house was definitely an unwise financial decision; i paid for it out of what little i managed to save in 2015.

2018, age 28

early in 2018, i went from teaching comp/rhet to creative writing, which only cemented my desire to teach writing as a career. i realized i was far better at teaching writing than writing, but i knew i had to keep writing to keep teaching (shocked pikachu.jpg), so i kept submitting to journals. i got my first story accepted. i didn’t receive any payment for that publication. i quit the bank early in the year (finally! after 10 years!) and was terrified about money, in part because my student loan payments were coming out of deferment and i was still paying off my hospital bills from my breakdown.

in spring semester, i won a few departmental awards (totaling $500ish) and got a second story accepted (again, no payment). i also got accepted to another workshop which i will not name because i hated it. i graduated in may and defended my thesis in july. the thesis would later become my short story collection, zucchini.

in fall, i stayed on at my school as an adjunct, and started writing training wheels which would later become an original novel called baby.

i wrote 450k in 2018. i paid $373 in submission fees. i was also nominated for an award for one of my publications but didn’t win. the workshop i went to was like $4000 with room and board (it was a month-long workshop). i got 75% of it covered with scholarships and i paid for the rest of it out of my savings, and even though i’d intended to drive there, my mom ended up buying me a plane ticket. again, i met a lot of big-wig writers i thought for sure would help me get an agent. i told myself i was networking, and that publication was all about Who You Knew. but that turned out not to be true for me.

as an adjunct i made $3200 per course, and i taught 3 classes in fall. in winter, i got my shit together and started applying for creative writing PhDs, mostly to convince my family i was doing something with my life, with no expectation that i would get in. in winter i applied to 2 schools. with application fees and the GRE, i ended up paying well over $500.

2019, age 29

in spring semester, i taught 2 classes while i revised training wheels into baby. when i had a completed manuscript, i finally pulled the plug and used all my networking contacts to get my dream agent i’d met at tin house. i queried her, and a very popular and well-regarded author i’d met at the other workshop emailed her on my behalf to tell her good things about me. i thought for sure i had it in the bag. this author also touched base with a few other agents whom he thought would like my work.

i didn’t hear back from any of them. not even a “no thanks.” i set down querying for a while.

i got a third story picked up and published around this time, and i was paid $25 for it. they also nominated me for an award, and i don’t think i won? but i can’t find out who did win so idk.

my grandpa passed away and i decided to sell my house and move in with my grandma so she wouldn’t be alone. i got rejected from both PhD programs i applied to and decided to get a “real job” instead, and began applying for random positions that offered health insurance, because i knew i was drastically undermedicated and it was becoming a Problem.

near the end of spring semester, i moved out of my house, put it on the market, and was interviewing for a community development manager position for a nonprofit. at the same time, i found out about another university that was taking late-season applications, and i applied. five days later, i got accepted. one day after that, i got a job offer for the nonprofit. since i had no idea how long it would take for my house to sell, and being unable to afford both rent in a new city and my mortgage payment, i deferred my PhD acceptance for a year and decided to work at the nonprofit for a while. the risk was that i could only defer my admission, not my funding, so there was a chance that the following year i wouldn’t get the same funding package.

i lasted one month at the “real job” before i had another breakdown and ended up quitting.

my house sold for well under the asking price and i received only $4000 in equity once it was all said and done. that’s a lot of money to me, but considering that i’d been paying on the house for 7 years, i was expecting a lot more.

i had a year to kill until the PhD so i decided to take a break from teaching and apply to artist residencies instead. i applied to 8 residencies and got accepted into 4, but only ended up attending 3, because the 4th was outrageously priced and there was no indication of the cost when i had applied.

in winter i picked up querying agents again. i queried 10 agents every other week. i also got a ghostwriting gig writing children’s books that paid $800 a month.

in 2019 i wrote 417k. i spent $441 in submission fees (to residencies and contests, not agent queries. never pay money to query an agent!!). i ended up teaching 3 classes fall semester.

2020, age 30

i started out the year driving across the country going to residencies. the first cost $100 (no food), the second cost $250 (A LOT OF VERY GOOD FOOD), and the third paid me $500. i was at the third when the pandemic hit.

the query rejections started rolling in. i gave up in february after 60 queries. of those 60, i received 7 manuscript requests for baby, but the consensus was that it was too long and plotless (you got me there.jpg). at the second residency completed and revised zucchini and decided to begin querying with that instead. i could only find a few agents who accepted collections so i only queried 16. i got one request for the manuscript but then didn’t hear back. i gave up in april shortly after the pandemic hit.

when i figured the collection, like the novel, just wasn’t publishable, i started submitting to contests which is the more standard route for the genre. i submitted to 12 in total and was a finalist in 1. i was rejected or withdrew from the rest.

the PhD program reached out to ask if i was still interested in starting in fall, and i said i was, so they put me in the running for funding again and i was accepted. the stipend was $17k per academic year.

like most of us, i got totally derailed in spring and stopped doing basically everything. the ghostwriting gig started paying $1500 a month and i also started my creative coaching business, which slowly but surely began to supplement my income. i also received the $1200 stimulus.

when school started, i quit the ghostwriting gig. i had no intention to continue querying either book, but i saw a twitter pitch event called DVpit (diverse voices) and decided to participate. for those who don’t know, a twitter pitch event is where you tweet the pitch for your book and use the hashtag, and agents scroll through the tag and like tweets. if an agent likes your tweet, you query them.

i got one like, so i followed up with the query. the agent asked for the full MS and a couple weeks later followed up with the offer for representation. we talked on the phone, she sent me the contract, i asked for a couple changes, and then signed!

so far this year i’ve written 375k and paid $518 in submission fees. i’ll give more details when i do my end of year roundup next month. oh, and i finally paid off my student loans.

totals

word count: 2.3 million

agent queries: 77

agent MS requests: 9

agent rejections: 28

agent no responses: 44

short story submissions: 86

short story acceptances: 3

short story income: $25

total submission/application fees: $1472

my (final) query letter

honestly this query letter probably isn’t very good which is why i got such a minimal response, but it got the job done eventually.

Thank you for expressing interest in ZUCCHINI through this year's DVpit event.

ZUCCHINI is a collection that views sex through an asexual lens. It poses inquiries into constructs like gender, sexuality, and love to dissect the patriarchal/puritanical foundations from which our social perspectives often derive. Being a collection about asexuality, each story portrays a relationship that develops from forms of attraction other than physical.

In one story, a grieving widow purchases her first sex toy; in another, a woman uses sex to cope with the death of her abusive father, and later in the collection faces the long road to recovery; an administrative assistant seeks out a codependent relationship with her boss; a masochist hires a professional sadist to lead him toward self-actualization; a woman begins to recover from her sexual assault by staging a reenactment on her own terms; and lastly, two lifelong friends in a queerplatonic relationship decide to get married. Asexuality is an under-acknowledged identity within the LGBTQIA community and is often misunderstood. In seven stories, ZUCCHINI dissects the notion of attraction, explores the intersections of sexual identity and trauma recovery, and conveys the experience of intimacy without physical desire.

Three stories in the collection have been published in literary magazines. “Lien” appeared in volume 24 of Quarter After Eight and was nominated for the PEN/Robert J. Dau Short Story Prize for Emerging Writers. “An Informed Purchase” appeared in the summer 2018 issue of Midwestern Gothic and won the Jordan-Goodman Prize in Fiction. “The Ashtray” appeared in issue 16 of Rivet Journal and has been nominated for a 2020 Pushcart Prize.

Complete at 53,000 words, ZUCCHINI is a collection in conversation with Carmen Maria Machado’s HER BODY AND OTHER PARTIES, Lauren Groff’s FLORIDA, and Samantha Hunt’s THE DARK DARK.

If ZUCCHINI is of interest to you, I would be happy to send you the manuscript. Per your guidelines, I've appended the first twenty pages below, which is the entirety of the first story.

what comes next

i’m going to spend january revising the collection per my agent’s feedback. when i send it back to her, she’ll shoot it out to the first round of publishers. my understanding is that the goal is to get multiple offers on it so that it has to go to auction. if there are no offers, she’ll do another round of submissions, and so on, until we’ve exhausted our options. if that happens, we’ll reassess, but by then hopefully i’ll have another novel finished.

meanwhile, i’ll be continuing the PhD which entails teaching a 2/2, workshop, and 2 lit seminars per semester. i’m also still doing my creative coaching, writing fanfic, and working on my original projects. in summer, i’ll finally be moving to hopefully start going to school in person next fall.

the PhD is a 3 year program with an optional fourth year. i don’t see myself finishing in 3 years so i do plan to take the extra year unless something comes up. after the PhD, i’m not sure what i’ll do. a lot will probably change by then so i’m trying not to commit to one idea. i might apply to post-doc fellowships and tenure track positions, or i might leave the country and teach overseas, or i might move to LA and try to get in a writer’s room somewhere. i’ve got a lot of options.

overall thoughts/stuff i learned

first of all, you don’t have to go through all of this to publish a book. you could feasibly just write a book and query agents. the only reason it took me this long is because my PTSD brain was sabotaging me every step of the way and i didn’t start taking anything seriously until i found something i was willing to fight for (teaching). i went the MFA/literary route but other, faster routes are just as good. maybe better. probably better. actually if there’s any chance you can go a different route, you should take it.

reflecting on all of this, very little of it has anything to do with talent or being a good writer. nor does it have to do with being at the right place at the right time. i’ve only made it this far because i took very small steps over and over again, and during that walk met people who could help me -- the authors who have mentored me, the editors who accepted my stories, the agent who signed me. and as i got further along my path, i started being able to help other writers in the way i was helped.

i don’t believe i’ll ever be a great writer. the best thing i can say about my writing is that it’s competent and accessible. everything i write sets out to do something and most of the time it gets the job done. i don’t imagine i’ll ever be able to financially support myself with publishing, and i’ll certainly never be famous or well-known, but i’m good enough to keep making progress. i’ll probably continue to find opportunities that are adjacent to writing and that will keep me afloat, pending my health and provided the country doesn’t devolve into civil war.

probably the most important thing i learned in all this is that having a wide appeal isn’t the goal. you don’t write to be lauded or liked. you have to stay as true to yourself and your interests as you possibly can, so that the people who come across your path can see you and help you. you’ll need those people; no one gets anywhere alone. if you pander, if you’re too concerned with praise and success or being adored, you won’t make it very far. the rejection will eventually kill you.

with all that said, my advice to you is this: never stop writing. the ability to share our stories is the single most precious thing we have. you can’t let anything stop you from telling your stories the way you need them to be told.

#writing advice #the writing life #writing update

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thatfilthyanimal · 4 years ago

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I really don't want to vent here but I also don't want to overload my friends so I'm just going to do it and suck it up, fuck it.

I feel pretty fucking horrible in a very deep way and I don't know how to talk to people about it. This started up around the beginning of April and I thought it was in relation to April just being generally rough on me because of how my dad died, but it hasn't let up yet. If anything, I feel worse. Way worse.

I'm guessing I need to raise the dosage of my medication and I'm actually really heartbroken about that in a way I don't know how to describe. How am I supposed to feel if shit is so horrible I have to take the highest possible dosage I can safely take of a medication? How am I supposed to feel calling up a psychiatrist I just told two months ago my dosage was stable and I was feeling great, to tell her "ha ha ha I high key hate life and want to die again, please, raise my shit so I can hold up the illusion that I'm not a fucking lost cause a little longer?"

So... some of the only stuff I'm really comfortable touching on here is the whole transphobia at the doctors, thing. After spending most of 2020 living at doctors because of unknown stomach pain and just trying not to fucking die from something during a global pandemic I'm at a loss now. Nobody ever figured out my pain issues, I've just changed around what I eat and it seems better... Sort of? But mostly my existence in general hurts because coming out as trans to my newer doctors has been... uncomfortable. Now it feels like every time they "ma'am" me or pointedly call me "a woman" or "female" in a phone call (where I'm specifically asking for help regarding getting on testosterone) I want to claw myself out of my own skin and bury myself deep in the ground where nobody ever has to see me again.

Literally all the shit that I was terrified of that kept me from admitting to myself I was trans this entire time is fucking real and-- I'm weak, I'm fucking weak and scared and tired because I've never needed so much help with something so desperately in my life and the ONE PLACE I should be able to get help from I'm... terrified of, now. I just want to cancel all my future appointments and just never leave my house again because what is the fucking point. I'll never look right and I'll never be taken seriously and my weight is always an issue some-fucking-how regardless of the actual problem, so just. Fuck. Why leave. Why go anywhere. Why try to take care of myself anymore just. why.

I knew this would happen if I came out, I knew admitting I was trans would be a challenge of my ability to continue to love myself and... you know, I do, I do love myself, and coming out has proven that more than anything, but the cost of that almost feels like it outweighs the euphoria of being myself.

But now I'm in that weird middle-state of my body and voice not "matching" my gender and nobody taking said gender seriously and. What do I do. I'm so terrified of this happening at another doctor's office that it hurts to try to reach out. Literally the nearest doctors that might help me are an hour and a half out in Chicagoland, if not Chicago proper. And things feel so uncomfortable here where I am that I may literally need to drive that hour and a half just for basic health care, not just the hormone therapy and. Like. It hurts.

If I had figured this out sooner while I was in Champaign, there was an endocrinologist there and the city was super LGBTQIA+ friendly and I'm kicking myself for not doing something before I moved three hours away. Getting help could have been maybe a 15 minute drive in my own city instead of an hour and a half into the heart of Chicago, which, btw, I fucking hate driving in because everyone out there drives like a crazy asshole.

Idk. I'm tired and I'm scared and worn down and I don't know how to ask for help. I tried with one of my local friends but, well, their life is busy and its always "oh I forgot to ask my friend about that place here that would help you, sorry, there's been so much going on" but. It's been months now. They were the one that suggested I reach out to said people about whatever place it is, and I don't want to be rude but also... are you going to help me? Because it sounds like my sorry ass is stuck going to Chicago in a global pandemic to get T and I'm really upset about it.

Like, if my friend can't even see it as important than I guess I just have to do everything alone. Just like I've had to with BPD.

This is getting way longer than I meant, and it's not even the worst thing just. I'm feeling vulnerable and isolated as hell and I need more support than I have and I'm too scared to ask for it. And most of the people I know can't do jack or shit about it because there's really nothing they can do, so like. Why ask them. Why tell them. Idk.

I'm talking to a therapist too, have been for months, and she's nice but she's not great for trans issues. She's supportive but it's not her specialty. Because I have borderline I have to kind of choose my battles when it comes to therapists... There are therapists that handle BPD and therapists that handle trans issues but my insurance doesn't cover one that specializes in both at once in this town. And BPD is super misunderstood-- the wrong therapist may admit me for just passive suicidal ideation not realizing it's a common and (generally non-life-threatening) part of BPD that doesn't hold real threat. Getting a therapist for trans issues that doesn't know how to read the weight of my depression/anxiety/suicidal thoughts and call them correctly is dangerous and... that's its own problem. I have to choose my battles here and it's really hurting me.

Like I really don't know what to do. Do I get a second therapist and risk that they may not understand BPD and may be overwhelmed and scared to work with me? God. I've never had two therapists at once and the thought is... idk. It hurts.

I just want to feel okay, and I don't. And I'm more tired and scared and feeling misunderstood than I've ever been and the idea of reaching for help is terrifying me. This feels like stuff I should only be unloading on a therapist, not my friends... my friends deserve better than that. But also I'm well aware of how my friendships will go if I start to use them to vent and seek help like this.

Idk. I wish I knew how to talk about everything that's wrong right now but I... can't. It sounds horrible and mean when I say it all and I don't want people to look at me like I'm fragile and someone to pity, but that seems to be my life and how people are going to view me. I basically exist as an example of what not to be. So. Idk. I'm tired and I want help but I'm scared to ask for it.

Past friends have taught me that if I seek help and cry to them that I'm a Problem that they need to distance from and. It hurts. There may be friends that do genuinely want me to come to them and I don't know how to try; the idea scares the shit out of me. Everyone I've ever opened up to (besides my partner) has eventually grown sick of me and I can't handle losing what support I have right now.

I need to hush cause this sounds blamey and I don't mean it that way. My life is just... highkey fucked and I'm trying to hold on and struggling about it.

I don't regret finally admitting to both myself and everyone else that I'm trans, but fuck, the weight of this level of medical rejection on top of the BPD feelings interfering with my ability to reach to friends for help just... it's so much. And I feel guilty complaining about it at all.

And every time I post something public about it I'm just giving people insight on why they should avoid me, or worse, exactly what they can do/say if they want to hurt me.

#personal #bpd #trans issues and dysphoria yayyy #suicidal ideation yaaaaaaaaay #come to filthy's brain where we have #sadness!#regret!#dread!#trust issues!#fear of abandonment!!#it's great it's fun and I'm definitely not typing tags to stall hitting the post button hoooo #shit

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pointlesstrashyexistence · 4 years ago

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Every few days I think about how if Supernatural’s writers were just planning on killing of Cas and then never mentioning him again with the original ending involving the possibility of just a brief cameo of him in Heaven weirdly partying with (dead?) Kansas, I probably would’ve preferred it if Cas didn’t have a confession scene.

Ok here me out. Yes I ship DeanCas/Destiel. Yes I loved that there was at least acknowledgment of Cas’ romantic feelings towards Dean. Misha has outright said the confession was romantic and there have already been two official dubs in two different languages where the “I love you” specifically uses phrases that show romantic love. It’s not up for debate anymore if those feelings were romantic.

But if they were just going to throw that in there and get rid of Cas and never mention him again except for two scenes where he doesn’t appear and one that is just Lucifer pretending to be him to gain access to the bunker, I would’ve preferred it if Cas’ true happiness was something that I think would’ve been the ultimate acknowledgement of Cas’ transformation, which I feel would’ve been Jack calling Cas his dad and telling his dad how much he loves him. Of all three members of Team Free Will 1.0, Cas has been the most like a dad to Jack. Cas was the one who eventually helped Kelly hide, prepared a home for Jack and Kelly to live in, for Jack to be raised in safe and loved and cared for. Cas was the one prepared to go down fighting to protect Jack before Jack was even born. Cas is the one who always runs to Jack, to protect Jack, to save Jack, even if it means creating a rift between him, Sam, and Dean.

I love my Sam Winchester is Jack Kline’s Father fics, and my Dean Winchester is Jack Kline’s Father fics, and my Team Free Will 1.0 are Jack Kline’s Fathers fic on ao3 . I do. But if we’re talking about in the show, Cas is the one who is the most like a father to Jack.

Love Dean and wish that man had been given therapy and anger management and AA meetings and working to become a better, less violent person who takes accountability for what he’s done as his finale ending rather than just dying by a fucking nail through the chest, something Cordelia on Buffy The Vampire Slayer survives after like a twenty foot drop from a staircase. But Dean outright hates Jack during his widower arc and makes it known how much of a monster he thinks Jack is to the point where Jack repeatedly tries to commit suicide and then it’s just never really brought up again after Cas comes back and Dean then just goes back and forth on whether he thinks Jack is part of his family or not for the last three seasons. As much as I like the few scenes where Dean is actually bonding with Jack and calls him “their kid” and Jack referring to himself as a Winchester, Dean isn’t really Jack’s dad in the show. Do I think this probably would’ve been a different story if we got baby Jack? Yes, but that’s not what I’m talking about right now

Sam? Sam definitely tries at first. Sam gets what it’s like to feel like a monster and be viewed as one even when your not, and calls out Dean for how he acts and behaves towards Jack. But Dean just as easily calls out Sam for using Jack to try and get their mother back and trying to appear invested in Jack to get what he wants. Sam’s affection for Jack is conditional at first. He gradually grows to be more paternal to Jack but by season 14, it kind of just dwindles away. We got all this buildup of Sam and Jack’s relationship, which yes there should’ve been because here you have someone who was supposed to be the True Vessel of Lucifer, the Boy King of Hell and the Antichrist, the Son of Lucifer, and there’s not really any care given to it afterwards. That season was probably the last time the writers actually did anything interesting with Sam and tried to give him an arc in my opinion.

Cas though? Cas, who was a warrior of God that led garrisons and killed the offspring nephilim of lesser angels? Cas who grows a respect and admiration for humanity, seeing them as complex miraculous beings rather than hairless apes like the majority of the angels? Cas who defends humanity’s existence against other angels even at the cost of his life? Cas who originally thought of the Antichrist as a monster that needed to be killed to protect humanity but heard Kelly talk about how good she believed her child could be despite being the son of the devil and saw a paradise on earth when he actually communicated with Jack in the womb? Cas who separated from the only other two people he has consistently turned to for help and has provided help for in order to try and ensure Jack would be a child safe and loved even if it meant being away from the people he considered family and could die protecting Jack and Kelly? Cas who unconditionally loves and treats Jack as his child throughout the last three season? He is definitely Jack’s father.

I just think there’s something very fitting about the angel who unconditionally loved humanity despite never being able to entirely follow god’s orders raising the supposed antichrist who becomes a god that respects humanity’s free will. And I think that scene would’ve been fantastic in that Cas loves Jack as his child so much that he makes that deal with the Empty in the first place to protect Jack , but Cas loves Jack so much that Jack is the reason the deal is broken. Jack doesn’t realize Cas thinks of him as his child the same way Cas doesn’t think Jack sees him as his dad, and that recognition that they feel the same way is the most bittersweet moment in the world because their first moment where they mutually knowingly recognize each other as parent and child seems like it might be the last one they have together as they hug. Jack sobs while furiously apologizing as he sees black goo come to reach Cas who only has a few more second left to kiss the top of his child’s head and hug him close and say something like “I love you so much my son” before pushing him away while Jack watches, crying as he calls out “Dad don’t leave me” as his father get covered in black goo while smiling with tears streaming down his face before disappearing.

I’m not sure how that situation could’ve occurred. Maybe Jack and Cas are together when people start disappearing, and Jack worries about how if Chuck doesn’t consider him important enough to torment he could also be proofed away, and he wants to tell his dad how much he loves him in that way kids do when they think they might see their parents for the last time and despite being in basically an adult body Jack is still three and not really thinking about what could happen or doesn’t even think this could be Cas’ happiest moment because he always thought Cas knew Jack thought of him as his dad. I don’t know.

But that scene happens and the Empty collects Cas and then when Jack becomes god and brings everyone back, he somehow also brings Cas back from the empty. Look the writers gave absolutely no good reason for why Lucifer somehow came back from the empty in 15x19 when the Empty specifically states that Chuck has no power in her domain so why should I? But I guess if I was going to it would’ve involved Jack finding out how it got loud in the empty and bargaining with the Empty in trading demons, angels, and other nephilim in exchange for making the empty quiet again and managing to deal with what to do with all of these now revived supernatural creatures. Still frustrated that the show made God the enemy and turned Billie into a last minute villain when the Empty was right the, the Enpty was hyped up, and then it just took Cas and Billie and disappeared, and was never heard from again.

Anyways, Jack and Amara separate but they’re still functioning as a unit and are working together to fix the other universes as well as heaven and the systems of who gets sent to heaven, hell, and purgatory in a sort of season 4 of the Good Place style, and Cas takes on a major role as the celestial being with the most interaction with and understanding of humanity, especially with that time he was a homeless human under his belt to provide his own reflection on why certain people may do things that are wrong like stealing in order to provide just a basic need for themselves like stealing food to eat. It’s implied that Rowena’s involved in this too. Cas and Jack say their goodbyes to Sam and Dean. If I had it my way, the finale would end up being like the one I made up in an earlier post where Sam and Dean get their beach day but realize that their relationship isn’t healthy for either of them and separate and the viewer no longer has access to what they do with their lives afterwards because Sam and Dean now have control of their own stories and decide who gets to see it. But I guess what I made up fixes some general overarching complaints about the last three episodes. I still hate that last episode and what I feel is the assassination of 15 years of character development of Sam and Dean in order to go back to S1 with Sam as the main character and Dean as the side character interrupting his life but I just barely acknowledge it as the show’s finale.

I do love the confession scene. I really do. But if it was just going to end with Cas dying a minute after confessing his love and never being seen or acknowledged again, I would’ve much rather preferred it being that his happiest moment was being with his child in the endless feedback loop of familial love.

#Supernatural #SPN #spn #supernatural #Jack Kline #jack kline #Castiel #castiel #cas thee el #Cas Thee El #spn 15x18 #spn 15x19 #Castiel is Jack Kline’s Father #castiel is jack kline’s father #Castiel is Jack’s Father #castiel is jack’s father #cas is jack’s father #Cas is Jack’s Father

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buckyscrystalqueen · 4 years ago

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Too Smart for Your Own Good: Part 6

Pairings: (Past) Machine Gun Kelly x Reader, (Past and Future) Henry Cavill x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, PTSD, nightmare, abandonment, dick move on Henry’s part.

Word Count: 6,068

A/N: Doesn’t have a completed end yet, but just giving you more content to try to get myself out of a writing funk.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first night you were back in LA was the first night Henry really slept, but it was at a great cost. You were sound asleep in his arms, when his grip tightened painfully around your chest, but thankfully not around your stomach. You tried calling out his name softly to pull him from his nightmare, but all that managed to do was make him grab ahold of your wrist when you tried to move it to shake him awake.

“Siri, call Dad on speaker.” You said as evenly as you could, as you tried to keep the panic and pain out of your tone. When he grumbled through the speaker, you took as deep of a breath as you were physically capable of to seek his help. “Daddy, I need you to calmly, and quietly come to my room to help me. Henry’s having a nightmare and I can’t get out of his grip to help. But you have to be calm.” You finished quickly when you heard him rush out of bed. “Calm, Negan. Please, for your granddaughter’s sake.”

“OK.” He growled angrily before hanging up the phone a few moments before he pushed open your bedroom door. “What do you need?”

“Get on the bed behind him.” You strained as you shifted your body weight as much as you could to try to pin the arm that was under you to the mattress. “Then lean over him and lay across his upper arm as best as you can. Then grab both of his wrists, gently, but firmly, and hold them. Just be careful of where your elbow is and the baby.”

“Why...?”

“Because I don’t know how he’s going to react to waking him up out of this.” You hissed over Henry’s grumbling. “Just do it.” With a heavy sigh, your father climbed onto your bed and followed your instructions to a t. You glanced up at him as best as you could to see his nod, took a deep breath, and shouted your fiancé’s name. As you expected, his grip tightened the slightest bit in fear, but Negan held on to his wrists so his grip couldn’t tighten any more than that. The next move he made as was expected as to get his arms free to fight back, but with you and Negan placed the way you were, he wasn’t able to get far with that either.

“Henry.” You said evenly and calmly around the knot in your throat. “Henry, you’re OK. You’re home, and you’re safe. It’s (Y/N) and Negan. You’re safe.” You kept repeating yourself for a few more moments until the fight in him completely disappeared, and was replaced with a new kind of panic.

“What did I do?” He asked, fearfully as your dad slowly sat up and let go of his wrists. “What did I do?!”

“You’re OK.” You repeated like a broken record as Negan flipped on your bedroom light for you. “You were having a nightmare and you tensed up around me. Dad just came into help...”

“Did I hurt you?” He asked quickly as he instantly let you go, sat up, and pushed himself across the bed to put as much distance between you as he could. “Did I hurt the baby?!”

“No, you didn’t.” You said as you ran your fingers through your hair and sat up against the head board. “I’m fine, and she’s fine. You weren’t near my stomach...”

“Oh Jesus Christ.” He gasped as he covered his face with his hands for a moment, only to look back at you. “I’m sorry. My love, I am so sorry.”

“It’s OK.” You repeated as you reached out and carefully touched his knee. “We’re all OK...”

“Need me anymore, Princess?” Negan asked as he got off the bed, knowing that if you were truly scared, you would say so.

“We’re OK for now.” You told him as you searched his tired eyes. “Thank you, Daddy. Sorry I woke you.”

“Any time.” He said, seriously. “I’ll leave my phone on.” You thanked him once more as he headed out of your room to smoke a cigarette or two before going back to bed, and you turned your full attention back to your fiancé.

“You didn’t hurt me, Henry.’ You repeated as you scooted closer to him and very gently picked up his hand. “Feel for yourself. Your arms were here... and here.” He nodded his head and gently traced the path on your skin, feeling for any broken bones, or tender spots you may have had. “You were no where near the baby, who is still squirming away.”

“(Y/N), I’m so sorry.”

“Baby, it’s OK, I promise.” You repeated as you reached up to touch his cheek slowly. “The only reason I called my dad was because I didn’t know how you’d react waking up suddenly like that, and I’m a bitty thing compared to you. I’m not strong enough to hold you still, but Negan is. So I called in reinforcements, but only because I’m pregnant.”

“Goddamnit.” He gasped as he started to tear up. “Darling...”

“Henry, take a deep breath for me.” You interrupted as you scooted a little bit closer. “I’m OK. We’re OK. I’m not mad, and I’m not scared, just a bit shaken. But here’s what we do know. You’re going to have nightmares. And now, knowing that, we can prepare ourselves for them better. There’s so many things we can try...”

“Like me sleeping in a whole different bed.” He interrupted as he reached out for his pillow, but you put your hand on it before he could pull it away.

“Henry, we have the biggest bed known to man kind.” You giggled. “You’re not going somewhere else. So let’s run through my ideas before we even consider that as a step, OK?” You kept your hand where it was and waited for him to nod, before getting out of bed and pulling open the curtains that lined the glass doors that lined your room. “Free white noise machine.” You told him as you held the buttons that pulled open the doors the same way it did in your living room and most of the west facing rooms in your house. “And lavender essential oils help. We can try weighted blankets, or look into a service dog. We can try journaling or we can start doing nightly meditation before bed.”

“I need to go see someone.” He said as he watched you tie up the curtains to see if you were in pain at all and trying to hide it. “Don’t I?”

“That’s an option, too.” You said with a nod as you came back to bed. “But all of those things need to be exhausted before we consider sleeping in different rooms, because we both know neither of us want that. And you can’t try to keep yourself awake to avoid this, Henry. You’ll only make it worse, you hear me?” He nodded his head and kept watching your face as you laid down on your side and scooted closer to the middle. “So let’s try this for now. We sleep in the middle, with a little space because I know that’s what will make you the most comfortable, and simply hold hands. You can get as close, or as far as you need, but I need to know you’re in bed with me, too. I need you here...”

“OK.” He sighed, hating the idea of possibly hurting you again, but hating the idea of sleeping without you even more. You gave him a reassuring smile as he got back in under the blankets and let you take his hand to hold.

“See?” You asked when he stiffly found an only partially comfortable way to lay, while you turned off the room light. “Not ideal, but it’s what you need for now. And I get that. Just listen to the waves, and focus on just my thumb. Feel it on the side of yours?” He nodded as he searched your eyes in your darkened room.

“Good. Focus on that. I know we’re both going to be up worrying about the other person for the rest of the night, so if you want to talk, I’m here. And if you don’t, I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere... well, other than the bathroom real quick.” You giggled as you pulled back to run over to your ensuite. “But that’s your daughter’s fault, not mine.” You were only gone a few moments, but when you came back, Henry had scooted even farther back from your spot, causing you to smirk. “You know, I can scoot across this bed, too, mister.”

“You should...”

“I’m not going anywhere, Henry.” You reminded him evenly as you grabbed your body pillow out from under your bed and laid back down in front of him, just far enough away that you couldn’t touch him with your toes without stretching, but so you could still reach his hands. You set up the pillow to make yourself more comfortable, and you could almost see relief on his face at the sight of the cotton blockade. “Yes, I can use this every night.” You answered to his unasked question. “Puts less of a strain on my back when I can’t rest her on your hip anyways.”

“OK.” He whispered as he daringly scooted a half inch closer to you.

“I love you, Henry.” You said softly as you laced your fingers with his and started rubbing his thumb again. “And I’m not mad or scared of you, do you hear me? We are going to get through this together.” He barely nodded in agreement as tears welled in his eyes, which he quickly closed to hide them.

“I love you, too, (Y/N).”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

While Henry went to his first appointment with a PTSD therapist, you agreed to go shopping for maternity clothes. It was one thing that you hadn’t wanted to accept, but it was undeniable- your old clothes could no longer stretch to fit your 18 week along bump, and you could only live in bathing suits, and unbuttoned, held closed by hair ties jeans and shorts for so long, anyways. So Henry made you a deal as he tried to close your jeans under your stomach that morning. He’d go to the therapy appointment he’d been indecisive about, if you caved and bought pants that fit. Which meant you both left the house with scowls on your faces, even though yours was for a different reason.

You had barely paid for two smoothies at a place you had never been to before, that was a purposeful choice on your behalf, when your purse started to vibrate under your arm like you were expecting it to. Your heart still skipped a beat as you looked at an old caller ID photo, and answered the call with a small, knowing smirk.

“Baby? You OK?”

“I’m fine…” He said quickly. “I’m sorry… I lied to you.”

“You lied to me?” You asked as you pulled out a pair of reusable straws because you hated the paper ones that a lot of places in LA used now. “How did you lie to me?”

“I was told to tell you that this doctor wanted to do a family consult the first visit. And now, he won’t see me until my family gets here. Which means you…” A small smile pulled at the corner of your lips as you grabbed the two smoothies you had ordered, and nodded at the woman who made them.

“See, now… I vaguely remember a distant conversation…”

“I know.” Henry laughed as you opened the door of your car and set the drinks in the cupholders.

“Could it have been yesterday? No, maybe last week some time…”

“You know as well as I do…”

“Where I asked you if I should be there like my research showed.” You finished over him as you turned on your car, and checked your surroundings to back out of your spot. “You should be glad I still don’t listen to you.”

“I’m sorry, my love.”

“And you should be really lucky I picked the smoothie place that was two blocks away from where your appointment is on purpose, because I knew that no matter how much you swore he never said that…”

“I’m never going to live this down…” Henry said to you and someone in the office. “Never…”

“I hope you still like strawberry, blueberry, and kiwi.” You said as you grabbed a spot next to his Charger and hung up the phone. You grabbed your belongings and headed inside right on time for the therapy appointment, like you had planned since he had made the appointment.

“You are something special.” Henry said as he stood up to kiss your cheek.

“You’ve obviously forgotten who I am, baby.” You laughed as you glanced at the door that was opening to let a patient out.

“You must be Henry.” The man that stayed in the doorway asked with a smile as he took a clip board with Henry’s paperwork from the woman at the desk. “And…”

“(Y/N).” You said as you handed Henry his smoothie so you could shake the therapist’s hand. “Fiancée.”

“Come on back.”

“This why you left before me?” Henry asked as he gently pushed you forward.

“It is.”

“Well thank you for that.”

“OK.” The doctor said as he closed the door behind you in his office. “I’m Doctor Maxwell. Let’s get started…”

——

“So how did you know?” Henry asked as you headed back to get some shopping for both of you done after dropping off his car after his appointment.

“You can’t look at me when you lie to me.” You told him as you reached across the middle console of your Range Rover to rest your hand on his thigh while he drove. “You never have been able to. You always look just to the right, at the little scar I have there…”

“Here is one of the downsides to dating a genius.” He laughed as he squeezed your hand for only a moment at a red light. “She never forgets anything and notices everything.”

“Like an elephant.” You nodded. “I don’t call you out on it, though. Nor do I hold it against you. It’s human nature to conceal things that you believe are not pertinent, or that you believe will hurt or inconvenience the other person. The only person I don’t let it slide from is Negan.”

“I don’t lie often.”

“Twenty-seven times.” You agreed with a nod. “In the four years, seven months, and twelve days we’ve been together, obviously excluding the six years, two months, and twenty-one days…”

“Of course you know that to the day.” He laughed as he pulled into a parking spot in front of the first maternity store you wanted to go to.

“Elephant.” You laughed as you bent over to grab your bag at the same moment your daughter stretched. You felt the hair tie that was holding your pants together pop, and you let out a groaned sigh. “This damn child just broke my pants!” Henry paused before getting out of the car to look over at you while trying to hold back a laugh. “Don’t…”

“Love, that is hysterical!”

“Just… give me your belt.” You hissed as you mentally thanked your father for tinting your windows as dark as he did so your panties weren’t on display for the whole world to see.

“Now aren’t you glad we’re going shopping?” He laughed as he handed you the strip of brown leather.

“You are never going to let me live this down, are you?” You laughed as you wrapped the long belt around you nearly twice, and tied it.

“I will when you let this morning go.”

“Well you just had that one coming.” You laughed as you re-grabbed your purse and got out of the car. “Your fault.” He put his hand on the small of your back and kept you to his right, closer to the shops, down to the Moms the Word store. The two woman working in the small shop both looked up at you, down at your belt situation, and back at you with small shakes of their head.

“Finally gave in and accepted you can’t fit in regular clothes anymore?”

“I didn’t have a choice.” You muttered with a glance up at Henry’s smirk.

“Well let’s get you into shorts that are actually comfortable to wear first, then we’ll go from there. We see this all the time.”

“I’ll be here, darling.” Henry said as he took your bag from you, and grabbed a seat on the circular couch center piece. “Enjoying the show.” You did your best to get everything you could possibly need in one store, but you had no choice but to drag him to a second to finish up. You stopped for lunch at a Greek food cart Ashleigh had shown you years prior, and complained about being to hot to eat outside, so he wasn’t forced to sit in the loud crowd of people gathering for lunch.

You could tell he was silently grateful when you put up the sun shade you rarely used, and you over exaggerated how nice the AC felt to make him feel just a little less awkward after spilling his heart out about what had triggered him in the past three weeks since he’d been back- which were also all things that you had asked him to do, that made you feel absolutely horrible for putting him through his own personal hell. You gave him to option to either pick stores he wanted to grab clothes from, since a lot of his old ones were just a bit to tight for his new muscles or to head home and call it a day, and in typical Henry fashion, he was in and out of three stores in under an hour with nearly a whole new wardrobe.

“I hate that you can do that.” You said as you got in the passenger side of your car to go home.

“Do what?” He asked as he tossed his bags in the trunk with all of yours, and headed around to the drivers side. “What did I do?”

“I hate that you can go into a store, try on two things, and walk out with like four bags of stuff. Men have it so easy.”

“Oh, don’t be jealous.” He laughed as he pulled out into traffic to head home. “I’m just hitting my breaking point.”

“I figured as much.” You said as you put your hand on his thigh again. “And now, I vote for a nice dip in the pool, maybe a nap…”

“A naked nap?” He asked smoothly with a glance over in your direction.

“You know I’m a big fan of naked naps. Oh, Goddamnit. Just… put it in reverse and run him the fuck over.”

“No matter how much I would love to.” Henry said as he led the honking purple Lamborghini down your street. “I can’t.”

“Pretty please?” You begged with a pout.

“Can’t do it, my love. Don’t want you having my step daughter in prison for vehicular manslaughter…”

“Just yell at Jim that he’s OK to come in.” You said as he pulled into the right lane while you hit the gate button. “Man, he better hope that Negan isn’t home.”

“I’ll take the bags upstairs for you, darling.” He told you softly when he finally pulled into your garage. “Just don’t get too…”

“Who the FUCK do you think you are?!” Negan roared as he stormed out of the house toward the stupidly expensive car. You and Henry both raced out of your car to stop him as Colson got out to confront your dad before confronting you.

“No. Daddy, stop.” You tried as you stopped just short of the two men.

“What, you can’t even bother to tell me you’re fucking back in town? I have to see you on the fucking streets?!”

“Check your fucking voicemails, Colson. I left thirty of them when I was leaving the country, another ten when I was in England, and I left another six when I got back to LA. I also left one hundred and nineteen texts in that time frame, on top of the fourteen emails I sent, and I got ahold of Ashleigh at each stage and had her pass messages on to you as well, which I know she did. So please, tell me what I was supposed to do from there to get your attention, huh? Hire a sky writer? Send up smoke signals, what?”

“Oh, don’t you dare fucking mock me right now. That’s my kid…”

“And right now she’s in my fucking body!” You snapped back.

“And you took her out of the country on vacation…”

“She took me to see my parents.” Henry tried, but you and Negan both reached out to silently tell him to stay out of it.

“It wasn’t a vacation, Colson. Far from it. But it gave us a starting point to what we needed to do to help him get better after he spent six years as a prisoner of war. So excuse me if placating your big, macho ego falls in third on my list of priorities after making sure our daughter is healthy, and making sure my fiancé, who I just got back in my life mind you, is OK. I told you, I don’t play fucking games. So now, you need to leave. You can see I’m back, and you can see I’m healthy. Baby girl is kicking away and happy as can be, but until you want to grow the fuck up, and answer the Goddamn phone when I call you regarding her, you’re not fucking welcome here. We talked about that, remember? Both of us in her life. That means you actually have to fucking do that.”

“You know what, you’re worse than fucking Emma.” Colson said as he pulled open his car door. “With your ‘I’m better than you’ bullshit. And that’s fucking saying something. I’m done. Raise the kid with your rugby loving basket case.”

“I’d think long and hard about making that choice, mate.” Henry said before you could respond as he stepped up to your side with a small shake of his head. “Because I’ve only been back a month, and I’ve accepted the fact that I’ll be raising that little girl for the rest of my life the moment I walked through that door. But that’s what being a man is all about, stepping up when a boy isn’t capable?”

“You son of a bitch!” Colson said as he lunged toward Henry, but Negan jumped between them while Henry moved you back behind him out of the way.

“Get in your fucking car!” Your dad shouted as he pushed your baby daddy back. “Get your fucking shit together, and man the fuck up before you fucking think of coming back!”

“Fuck you!” Colson shouted as he got in his car and angrily slammed the door. “And fuck you for trapping me into this!”

“Oh, I’m gunna fucking kill him.” You growled over the sound of his engine roaring to life as you lurched forward with the intention of knocking him out. Henry caught you carefully around the middle and pulled you back into his chest. “Fuck you!”

“OK, that’s enough excitement for today.” He said gently as he turned you around so you didn’t see Colson mark up your driveway when he peeled out of it. “Let’s go inside, now, before I actually chase him down and run him over with my car.”

“If you do, take the truck.” Negan grumbled as he headed back toward the front door. “Because if you don’t, I will on my way back to the club house.”

“Both of you are wrong.” You said loud enough for your dad to hear, too. “I’ll be the one running him over if any of us do.”

——

You had no idea what heaven really was until you were laying on it. You saw an ad for the Cozy Bump pillow/ pool float pop up on the edge of a website you were reading to review car seats, and you couldn’t stop yourself from buying it because your back depended on it’s existence. It had arrived just that morning a few minutes after Henry had left for his appointment, and you woke up Negan, and his favorite flavor of the week so he would blow it up for you. Which lead you to complete nirvana.

You didn’t even bother putting a bathing suit top, just bottoms as Negan chucked it into the pool to go and get his day started. And you also couldn’t wipe off the giant smile on your face as you took the stairs down from the patio off your bedroom on the second floor down to the first where your infinity pool was. You weren’t even mad at having to swim halfway across the pool to retrieve it. You just wanted to use your damn float! And as you carefully got on, putting your bump in the cut out hole, and situating your breast in their own cut out, you realized that this purchase was the absolute best thing you had ever done in your life.

That is how Henry found you when he got back, sleeping on your float, in the shade from the upper balcony, holding onto the edge with your foot so you wouldn’t burn in the sun. He softly called your name once, before heading up to the room to put his own swim suit on; deciding that watching you relax sounded much better than his previous idea of a run down the beach. He grabbed himself a beer from the pool bar’s fridge and walked down the steps, putting your foot back on the raft for you so he could hold it still instead.

“You’re alright, my love.” He soothed softly when you startled at the movement. “I’ve got you.”

“Ashleigh’s coming over for a pool date...”

“I’ll get you a top when she calls.” He interrupted with a smile. “Sleep.” You nodded your head and drifted off for a minute, but the small rise in your adrenaline from being startled kept you from falling back asleep completely.

“How was therapy?” You asked as you reached out to grab his knee to pull yourself closer.

“Stressful, as usual. But enlightening.” He sighed as he reached out with his dry hand and pushed your hair back to see your face better. “I think we should start trying to go out for meals. Maxwell suggested that could be a way to desensitize to loud sounds before the baby comes. I just...” He sighed as you opened your eyes to look at him with a small smile, knowing exactly what he was trying to say, but waiting for him to voice it the way he needed to to claim his fear. “I... I don’t want to hurt her and I don’t really know if it’s loud noises that trigger me, or big groups, or if they are even a trigger at all…”

“Are you asking me on a date, Mr. Cavill?” You cooed as you propped your head up on your other arm with an even bigger smile. He met your eyes and his fear slipped away in his smile.

“Why yes ma’am, yes I am.” You nodded your head as your smile grew even more.

“I think I can pencil you in.” He laughed as he set his beer on the side so he could sink deeper into the water with you.

“Just a pencil? I don’t even get a penned in date night?”

“Nope.” You breathed as he turned you so that he could crouch down beside your face. “Now this raft, however. This raft gets penned in.”

“Oh, cheeky!” He laughed as he splashed your back with water. You giggled as you pulled yourself closer with his shoulder so you could kiss him softly.

“I would love to go on a date with you, my love. And I’ll happily do whatever it is you need from me, no questions asked. Well... belly flops are kind of out right now, and so is sky diving...”

“God, I’ve missed your sass.” He laughed as he kissed you once more, before letting go of the raft just long enough to grab your phone. He answered the call from the gate, and told the guard to let Ashleigh in, who knew the override code for your driveway gate and the door by your garage so you didn’t have to get out of the pool. “I’ll go grab a top.”

“Hey, we need to talk about trading your car in.” You said as you pushed yourself up on your elbows while he pulled you over to the side. “Your warranty ends in a few months. We can get you into something new for this new chapter...”

“As long as I’m not getting into a mini van, that’s fine.” He said as he held you just long enough for you to grab the edge of the pool. “Maybe an SUV like yours?”

“Gives us something to figure out at dinner.” You called out as he headed over to the stairs quickly. “And now I’m liking the idea of a mini van!”

“Not happening!” He called over his shoulder as he jogged up the steps. You smiled and laid still for a few more moments, before carefully flipping yourself to the side.

“(Y/N)?!” Ashleigh called out as she stepped out of the elevator at the same time Henry tossed you a mismatched top.

“Out here!” You yelled as you tied up the straps, and put your raft on the side of the pool. “Love, can you grab the sunscreen?”

“OK, you need to fucking quit pestering Kels.” She said as she dropped her bag on a lounge chair and pulled off her cover-up. “And tell Negan to back off, too. Because Kels is making my life a living hell. Hi Henry, welcome home.”

“Ashleigh, I told him from the get go I wasn’t planning on doing this with him.” You said as you threw your hair in a messy bun, and grabbed your sunglasses from the edge. “If he wants his kids to have a relationship, that’s fine. I can accommodate that because it is not their fault they drew the genetic short straw and Emma agrees with me on that one. But either way, I will always be disinclined to acquiesce to his demands when it comes to my child unless he is willing to follow the same demands himself.

And I am also disinclined to placate him when he drives to my house, honking his horn and causing a scene because he’s mad he didn’t answer the ample communications regarding my daughter in the first place. I won’t do it. I refuse. My child, my fiancé, and my family... fuck, even my work come before some immature man child who refuses to grow up. If he thinks my daughter will be raised in the way Casie was, he’s got another thing coming. No offense to Emma.” Ashleigh looked a little stunned as Henry simply took the sunscreen bottle from your hands and turned you around in the pool to do your back for you, having heard this same rant the night before as you were getting ready for bed.

“Well damn.” She said after a moment as you did your front and face with the SPF 50. “OK.”

“Look, like I said, I’m in charge here, because I know what his life looks like. I’ve heard all the songs, I’ve read between the lines of his lyrics. I know the life he lives and has lived. And I know what his life is going to look in ten, twenty years from now because of it. And I won’t have my child raised in that. I did not go into this pregnancy to compromise her upbringing with someone else, especially someone who isn’t ready to be the parent he claims to want to be. And I’ve told him that countless amounts of times. So no, I will not quit ‘pestering’ when he crosses a line he drew himself. And no, I will not tell Henry, who is actually ready to be a parent on the same page as I am, not to call my child his daughter and not his step daughter because he will still be around in ten or twenty years, doing right by her. And I will never, ever tell Negan to back off protecting his daughter, and granddaughter. And you can feel free to pass that all along to him. Because from what I’ve learned from Emma, he’s not going to hear it coming from me.”

“So you talk to Emma?” She asked as she grabbed a pineapple float from near the bar and got in the pool.

“I talk to Emma on a weekly basis.” You said with a nod as you grabbed your new float and got back on it with Henry’s help. “I’ve gotten her opinion on how she raised Casie, and how Colson parents her. I’ve talked to Casie about her dad, and what they do when they spend time together. And I’ve talked to both of them about how they feel having me and the baby integrate into their lives, and how we could go about doing that with, or without Colson. He said he wanted his daughters to be in each other’s lives, so I will do that for them. But I won’t subject her to his tomfoolery.”

“Who uses that word now, my love?” Henry teased as he sat in his favorite chair raft and kicked his feet up on the edges of your float so he was keeping you close to him and out of the sun.

“Shut up.” You laughed with a glance back at him.

“He’s a good person, (Y/N).” Ashleigh sighed, knowing that you were right and being fair as she hooked her feet on the edge of the pool in the sun to work on her tan. “He really is. He’s just...” She sighed and shrugged her shoulders, which made you nod.

“He never had to grow up.” You finished for her. “And his drug use stunted the mental capacity to do so. And I don’t hold that against him.”

“I kinda do.” Henry said as he slowly started rubbing your feet for you.

“And even if Henry does, he understands where I’m coming from when I say I’ll let him in her life. But the quicker Colson realizes that I am not going to cater to the bullshit, the faster he will be able to spend time with the child he wants in his life. On my terms. In my home. Away from the drug use, and the partying, and the revolving door of women. Negan has to live by the same rules here, so I know I’m not being ridiculous, and I know it’s possible. He’s not exempt unless there’s a lock down. And he knows that if I can’t lock down here, we will be locked in his bedroom, completely off limits from the rest of the club like I was when I was a child, or more likely, we will flying to England to visit Henry’s parents, or to another safe place until it’s safe to come home and be in my own home again.”

“As your cousin, and a mother, and someone who sees his lifestyle on a daily basis, and who knows yours, I get it. I’m not holding it against you. This was never a match up I saw just falling into place. But I’ll talk to him, OK? Maybe she can be the one that can help make the changes he needs, not just for his own life, but to be an even better father to Casie as well. Not that he’s a bad father to her as is.”

“Never said he was.”

“I know.” She sighed with a nod. “It’s just... man, you guys got me stuck between a rock and a hard place.”

“That I will apologize for. But only that.”

Part 7

#too smart for your own good #machine gun kelly x reader #mgk x reader #henry cavill x reader #colson baker x reader

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jisungsmochi · 5 years ago

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rich girl reader x caterer mark

(this sounds odd but idk how else to describe it HAHAHA)

your parents wanted to throw an extravagant party to celebrate your brother getting into college. yes. not a birthday party, or an engagement, but a college admission party. your family had too much money for your their own good and often wasted it on materialistic and highly expensive items. you couldn’t say you were any different. you weren’t unhappy with your living conditions and exorbitant lifestyle but you were unhappy with the way your parents often tossed you aside with their money. everytime you came home from school, visibly upset due to stress, your parents would just transfer money into your account, for ‘retail therapy’. everytime you racked up the bill at an expensive restaurants with your friends, your parents would cover the costs. it was a never ending cycle, that you wanted to stop at times.

you were sitting by the pool as the catering staff for your brother’s party had arrived to organise their set up. you watched as they all were trying to appease to your parent’s requests. you felt bad for them, that they had to change their usual ways of business in order to please your parents. you ignored most of the commotion, continuing to read the book you were trying to finish.

you were interrupted when a boy with fluffy black hair approached you, blocking the sunlight. you raised your head from your book,

‘may i help you?’ you asked, it coming out more rude than you intended.

‘ah yeah, do you live here? i can’t find the owners and i have some decorations but i’m not sure where they’re supposed to go’ he explained, running his hands through his hair, clearly tired from all the moving he has already done.

‘oh um yeah i’m their daughter, i’m sure you can just leave them here in the yard, and wait for them to come back. i’m sorry i’m not much help’ you have him a small smile before completely closing your book.

‘thankyou!’ he nodded before walking away. you watched as he and some of the other workers were unloading the items. you felt bad that they had to do such hard work on such a hot day. you ran inside, grabbing as many water bottles as you could, whilst asking your maid to cut up some fruit for the workers. she nodded at you as you headed back outside, only to be met with the boy from earlier, he was now sitting on the chair next to yours.

he looked up at you, smiling as he saw your hands full of bottles,

‘here let me help!’ he made his way towards you before placing the bottles all over the nearest table.

‘i got them for all you guys, and my maid is cutting some fruit, you all deserve a treat for your hard work’ you offered as he kindly took the water bottle you held in your hands and took a sip.

‘you’re pretty laid back compared to your parents, no offence’ he looked back at you, his comment made you chuckle.

‘i get that a lot actually’ you smiled before taking a seat next to him.

‘so this is your life? sitting by the pool and reading?’ he started, causing you to feel slightly embarrassed.

‘i mean, i guess so! i don’t really leave the house, we pretty much have everything here. my parents throw all these parties just for the sake of it, kinda takes away the whole, having fun part’ you ranted as he listened carefully, watching as your hands fidgeted with your words.

‘well i’m kinda thankful for this party, my parent’s business hasn’t been doing so well, and this party will help us out alot’ he commented as you looked back at him. his eyes sparkled in glee, you knew he was truly thankful.

‘i’m sorry to leave all of a sudden but there’s more stuff to set up.’ he slowly got up, not wanting to leave just yet.

‘oh it’s okay, can i get your number? you know, incase my family needs anything else’ you blurted, watching as he turned back to you, surprised at your words.

‘y-yeah sure’ he grabbed your phone from your hands and tapped away.

‘i’m mark, by the way’ he smirked, returning your phone. you felt a slight blush arise on your cheeks,

‘oh and i’m y/n! well uh i’ll see you later mark’ you waved before making your way back inside. he shook his head in amusement as he chuckled, he found you completely adorable. more than what meets the eye, that’s for sure.

you had only really called mark once, when you overheard your father being stressed about the desserts being served.

mark picked up almost instantly,

‘oh hey, y/n! what’s up?’ he spoke into the phone as you sat against your bedroom door, eavesdropping on the situation.

‘my dad is kinda stressed about what desserts you guys are serving, and i’m just calling so i can finally get him to relax’ you explained, hearing shuffling on his side.

‘ahh yes hold on a moment, i’m going to find the list my dad gave me! i’ll send a photo so you can show your dad’ mark quickly snapped a photo, texting it to you immediately.

‘thankyou so much! i’ll see you on saturday!’ you cheered as you hung up and went to dissolve your dad’s worries. you were thankful that mark was able to help you straight away, you couldn’t wait for saturday.

the party was in full swing, the caterers were efficiently serving the food as well as preparing for dessert. your brother was socialising with his friends, before he saw you and asked to talk.

‘hey sis’ he caught up to you, as you sat against the bar.

‘yes jeno?’ you sighed. even though you were both close, it was clear that he was your parent’s favourite. he was the classic jock, good grades, had a girlfriend, and just got into one of the best colleges, without my parent’s having to bribe them. he always made you feel inferior, unintentionally.

‘enjoying your night?’ he asked, sitting on the stool next to you.

‘could be better’ you shrugged as you took a sip from your drink.

‘yeah well how about you talk to that caterer guy? he seems to be checking you out’ jeno smirked, nudging your side as your eyes went to find mark. he was serving drinks to your aunts and uncles when he caught you looking and gave you a wave. you returned it before turning back to jeno.

‘not a chance, he’s just friendly’ you pushed aside, finishing your drink.

‘whatever you say, don’t get too wasted, otherwise mum and dad will kill you’ he wanted before heading off to talk to more of his friends.

as the night went on, you kicked yourself for not talking to mark. he was so busy, constantly walking around, you just wanted to catch him on a break. you found yourself back at the bar, ready for another drink.

‘hey, y/n’ you watched as mark shot you his adorable smile, as you sat yourself across from him.

‘your parents really know how to throw a party’ he commented, mixing a few drinks together before pouring the mixture into a glass.

‘yeah, i’m gonna predict that in another hour, the guests will all leave and it will be left to the staff to clean up’ you have him a solemn look, as he slowly nodded.

‘you look like you need a drink’ he tried to lift to mood, handing you the glass.

‘you’re not gonna like poison me? right?’ you joked.

‘of course not, just try it!!’ he rolled his eyes, waiting for your reaction.

‘not bad, not bad’ you complimented before continuing to take small sips.

mark smiled to himself, wiping down the surface of the bar table. you debated whether or not asking him this,

‘do you want to get out of here? i know you’re working and it would be unprofessional to just leave like this but i really wanted to talk to y-‘ you were cut off by his abrupt laughter.

‘y/n, i was finished over an hour ago, i just stuck around because well, i was hoping you would come and talk to me’ he shyly admitted, avoiding your gaze.

you were surprised at his response, perking yourself up before taking your hand in his and dragging him away from the bar.

you led him to this secluded part of your backyard that your parents neglected a few years back. you ended up making it your own little sanctuary where you could just read or just have time away from the craziness of your family.

mark seated himself on some cushions you placed on the grass under a small teepee structure.

‘this is kinda cute’ he mumbled, as your cheeks flushed red.

‘thanks, decorated it myself’ you smiled, sitting next to him.

there was a short silence, mark looked over at you, unsure of what to say.

‘do you ever wonder, what life would be like, if you weren’t....’ he started.

‘rich?’ you finished, he was shocked that you already knew what he was asking.

‘yes i do’ you continued. ‘i wonder what it’s like not going to a private school where my parents pay excessive funds to the school for me to be a part of clubs and teams that i really don’t enjoy being in. i wonder what it’s like, making a mess in my own room and not having to call my maid to come clean it for me when i really just want to it myself. this sounds like such a ‘rich girl problems’ type rant but sometimes it’s not always about the glitz and glamour for me’ you shrugged, looking over at mark who had that sparkle in his eyes as you spoke.

‘you’re really not like all of them. i mean, i know we’ve had like two solid conversations but it seems like you’ve missed out on a lot. i kind of want to show you my world for a day’ mark offered, as you enthusiastically nodded.

‘would you really? i would love that!’ you smiled widely as he slightly giggled at your reaction,

‘you’re really cute when you get excited’ he mumbled. your face was completely red at this point.

‘t-thanks’

‘i’ll come by tomorrow, we can get into my old ass car and just drive around, i’ll show you my school and my friends and maybe one day you can do the same with me!’ mark had a way of making you feel normal. he made you feel like, your feelings were valid. you adored him. so so much.

you nodded at his words before placing a quick peck on his cheek.

‘thankyou for understanding me’

‘anytime’ he replied as you both chatted about random things for the rest of the night.

mark lee was unlike anyone you had ever met. so empathic, so understanding, so wise yet so goofy. but he made you feel normal, and that’s what you wanted to feel all along.

would anyone like a part 2?? just curious hehe

#mark lee #mark lee imagine #nct dream imagines #mark lee fluff #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct fic #nct au #nct mark #nct dream fluff #jisungsmochiimagines #jisungsmochi masterlist

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mooncleo · 4 years ago

Text

and we recover slowly, my love, but surely

Fandom: Harry Potter

Main Pairing: Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger/Harry Potter

Description: Ron, Harry, and Hermione live together after the war. It seems like the logical choice, and the next step into comfortable domesticity seems logical as well. They learn and they love and they heal and cope and live and it’s beautiful and painful and perfect.

Words: 6,893

Edited: Literally not at all sorry guys

Author’s Note: Good morning to everyone who did not ask!!! I’m gonna double post my fic for all of my two followers, whom I love and cherish very much 🥰🥰

I honestly was not expecting this fic to end up being ot3, that kinda took me by surprise. So did my 2k turning into almost 7k, that was a little bit of fun.

I’m going to try to put in a read more, if I fail PLEASE tell me I don’t want anyone to have to scroll through everything.

Read it on Ao3 here.

…

It was the cool quiet of the evenings that kept him from even entertaining the thought of returning to London. Nights at the Dursley’s had never been this calm, always filled with Aunt Petunia or Vernon’s yelling, Dudley’s taunts, or the rumbling of an empty stomach, sent to bed without a bite of the dinner that he helped to cook.

He never went to bed hungry anymore. It was one of his triggers, they found out one night when he’d spent all day working on one of his projects and forgotten to eat- laying in the dark with his stomach beginning to knaw on itself in protest had sent him spiralling nearly into a fully blown panic attack. The Dursley’s had fucked him up, for sure.

It was not long that they’d been living together in their little cottage that Harry made a joke about cupboards and beds. It was bound to come up eventually, but he had hoped, somehow, to put the ensuing conversation off forever.

Before they had even gotten into details, Hermione’s eyes had started to water in a way that made him, quite frankly, uncomfortable. “All these years, and we never even knew? You’ve gone home to them every summer! I knew they didn’t feed you very well, but God, Harry. I didn’t think it was this bad."

He could tell that Ron felt the same way, but he’d never been particularly good at expressing it. Instead, Harry got twice the usual serving at dinner, and Ron’s grip was tight around him when they settled down to watch a movie later.

The next day at breakfast, Hermione brought it up again. She’d started by trying to convince him to file a court case against them.

"It’s a serious case of child abuse, Harry. They were horrible to you, and they shouldn’t be able to get away with it.” That argument had not gone down well, as Harry had first denied that there was any child abuse involved, however horrible they’d been, and then added on that he had no idea where they’d ended up after the war. He also didn’t really ever want to see them again, though he left that part out. He had a feeling it might not help his case.

“Well, you should at least go to therapy. It might help you process what they put you through.” She held up a finger when she saw him going to argue and said, “Listen, even if you don’t think the Dursley’s abused you, I still think you should go to therapy. Don’t pretend you haven’t stopped sleeping because of the nightmares, Harry Potter, so help me God. I know what you look like when you’re well-rested and this isn’t it. Those bags under your eyes could carry our groceries. Actually, I think we should all go. It’s not as though you’re the only one who went through a year on the run in addition to all the other fun trauma that comes with war."

Ron was a little confused about what therapy was until they explained the concept to him and he shouted out, "Mind healers! Oh! Yeah, we have those.” This, thankfully, saved them from the ordeal of finding an either muggleborn or squib therapist so that they could talk about magic without being declared properly insane.

Harry had been apprehensive about going to anyone who could claim to fix his mental issues- in part because he was half in denial about those mental issues to begin with. Yes, he had trouble sleeping most nights because of nightmares. Yes, he felt guilty about every single death that had happened during the war. Yes, the Dursley’s had treated him horribly for all of his life. But everyone had nightmares because of the war, those deaths really were his fault because they were all fighting for him, and the Dursley’s just hadn’t liked him that much on account of his parents. The hate was mutual, after all.

It only took one session with his mind healer, Gertha, for him to begin to open up to the idea that maybe he was a little bit misguided. Gertha was an 80 year old witch with gray hair just beginning to pepper her bun, and she took no shit. Her age had given her the grace of being willing to properly fight him when he started to go into a spiral, and she had a dry wit that he appreciated. Halfway through the first time they met, he’d started talking about the war and how it was his fault. Her eagle-eyed stare had stopped him in his tracks, and he’d asked, “What?"

"Boy, you are taking on far too much responsibility here. You think all those people died just for you? You think the war wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t been around? No! Voldemort was coming back, with or without you- he would have found a way. And just because you were the face of the war, that does not make you the war. A rallying point does not control those who gather around it, it simply exists as a marker, a way to say ‘we are here.’ Those people did not die just for you, you hear me? They were going to fight either way. People don’t like to lay down and give up when their loves and lives are threatened."

At the time, he hadn’t believed a word she’d said, but he liked the way she said it. It wasn’t quite scolding, more disbelieving than anything else. She also had said that Voldemort was coming back with or without him, even without knowing about the horcruxes. He liked her wit and the easy way she had handled his self-pity. She reminded him a bit of Professor McGonagall, and that in and of itself was a recommendation to him.

He went back the next week, because she had told him to and he liked her. He felt lucky that he found someone he liked right away, because both Ron and Hermione didn’t like the first Healers they talked to. Hermione had not liked the bright, peppy young witch who was apparently entirely too optimistic. "Her office was covered in little paper flowers, as though she didn’t deal with grown adults. As soon as I mentioned the war she started patronising about how she felt there surely must have been a better option than fighting, like maybe talking. First of all, did she do literally any research before I walked into the room? Honestly, what if I had been just a mite more fragile? Or Harry?"

"Hey! I resemble that remark!” A pillow found its way through the air in the direction of his face.

“Don’t interrupt me when I’m ranting. Anyway, she was absolutely insane. 'Why did they have to fight?’ Because when another wizard throws a curse at you, you aren’t gonna just fucking stand there and take it! Good God, woman. I don’t know where she was during the war, but she clearly wasn’t paying any kind of attention to Britain. How did she even get her Healer’s license? Ridiculous.” Hermione took an angry sip of her tea and she and Harry both looked to Ron.

“Yeah, mine wasn’t as bad as all that. I just didn’t really think he had the type of vibe I’m looking for. Kinda reminded me of my dad, actually. Not really what I wanted.” After sympathetic nods from the other two, Ron turned towards the TV. “What are we planning on tonight?"

"Right! I forgot completely. The Princess Bride! The librarian was raving about it when I was checking it out, so hopefully it’ll be good.” As Ron was raised in a wizarding household, Harry hadn’t really had much of a childhood by way of movies, and Hermione’s parents had been very strict, the three of them had decided to work their way through iconic muggle films that they’d missed over the years. They’d all liked The Breakfast Club the week before, though they were postponing Star Wars from two weeks ago until they could get through the fight scenes without having semi-simultaneous panic attacks.

The Princess Bride was a hit, and Hermione liked it enough that she put the VHS on her to-buy list. They wanted to build up their own collection of movies that they liked for rewatching purposes. Hermione had argued that going to the Blockbuster and renting a movie was much more cost effective that just buying all of them outright, since they were trying to get through at least a movie a week. The boys had decided not to argue, as she tended to be right about most things (and was also managing their finances).

Three weeks later, Ron had found a mind healer he liked, and Hermione was still stuck. Ron never said much about the therapy sessions he went to, while Hermione preferred to rant after hers. “God, it’s like he wasn’t even listening! There has to be at least one healer out there that I can actually talk to with a modicum of intelligence."

Ron and Harry traded glances. Harry’s look was quizzical, Ron’s was certain. It seemed that Harry would be the one to say it, then. ”'Mione, do you think that there’s a chance that maybe you’re having trouble finding a therapist because you don’t want to give any of them the chance to help?“

She was quiet for a moment. "I mean. I had considered it, but. Well. None of them- well. I suppose I may not have been entirely fair with all them. Although I stand by everything I’ve said."

"Everything you’ve said? Your main complaint about the last one was that she wore a cardigan instead of doing warming charms on herself. You may want to rethink that, love.” Ron’s tone was gentle and amused. It was a good thing, because Harry was fairly certain she’d have bitten his head off if it’d been anything but.

“Oh. Yes, well. Maybe a tad.” She coloured as she admitted it, and then added, “It was a truly hideous cardigan, though."

"And warming charms are a rather simple.” Harry mimicked the arch way that Hermione said things of people she looked down on, a voice that only those close to her ever really got to hear. She never mocked people in polite company, but both Ron and Harry knew that she could be properly vicious when she felt like putting in effort. Ron laughed, and then Hermione did too, a second later. They descended into giggles for a few moments before subsiding.

“Really, though. Your main complaints about her were her clothing, and not the soundness of her advice. Maybe try a second session with her, and see if it was a one off? If the only thing you could come up with was an ugly sweater then she must have been rather on the nose about everything else."

"Hmmm. Maybe. She did seem reasonably intelligent, actually."

The matter was concluded for the night, and they all went off to bed. After a night of rest, Hermione felt comfortable admitting that, looking back, it was rather obvious that she had been searching for faults as an excuse not to have to be vulnerable around people she didn’t know very well.

The solution to this, according to her mind healer, would be to get to know each other before starting. Hermione raved about how intelligent the woman was when she got home, and Ron and Harry once again traded glances. They didn’t say anything, but they were glad to have been able to help her find someone she actually liked. Neither was surprised that she was happy so quickly. It had been clear to them, before, that she was searching for faults.

Their lives went on. Tuesdays became therapy days, and they’d all go out for ice cream afterwards. Eventually, Harry and Hermione ended up back in the workforce. Ron decided to stay home and take care of the house. (He referred to the two of them as his sugar parents, an idea that deeply offended Hermione. Harry thought it was hilarious.)

Harry had toyed with the idea of going on to become an auror like he’d thought he wanted when he was 15. It did not take him very long to decide that he’d only really come up with the idea in the first place because he’d supposed that his life’s purpose was fighting Voldemort, and the aurors could have given him a leg up in that. With as long as it had taken him to accept that his life had meaning beyond fighting and defeating a dark lord, he wasn’t going to give that up now.

They ended up spending the entire evening brainstorming when he brought up wanting to get a job. Even if he was never going to be an auror, he was still starting to get restless with all the free time they’d accrued living off the map together.

"You could be a- a- um, fuck, what’re they called. Bus driver!! That’s a job.” Hermione, rather drunk on her fourth glass of wine, had taken to suggesting whatever came to mind.

“I don’t drive, I’m gay."

"Mmmm, you’re just as bi as the rest of us, darling. I bet we could figure it out. Actually, you know what, we should probably get a car.” She was starting to light up the way she did when she had a goal, and Ron groaned loudly.

“God, I forgot we never even learned to drive. Do we have to? I can apparate half-decently, and so can Harry. We could just practice and then not drive."

At Hermione’s put-out look, Harry interjected. "I’ll put bus driver on the list, but I don’t know that we need to drive. Where are we going? Half the shit we eat we grow ourselves."

"That’s right! It’s sus- sustains- no, oh my god, I’m drunk- sustainsabilities. Fuck, I can’t speak. Sustainabilities. Yup, it’s sustainable! We’re helping the environment.” Hermione had, at some point during their conversation, migrated sideways so that she was leaning almost entirely on Harry.

“'Mione, you have to move. You gotta- lean on Ron, I have to pee.” She snorted and nuzzled slightly further into his chest.

“Hmmm, you do that."

A few seconds later, there were snores coming from her frame, and Harry looked over at Ron, who was shaking with silent laughter. "Don’t laugh, I have to pee! Help me move her."

Harry pushed at Hermione’s shoulder, and she flopped a little bit onto the back of the couch. Ron doubled over in another round of giggles, and Harry hissed, "Ron, I swear to god- if I start laughing I’m gonna piss! You gotta- oh my god- help!"

At this point, Harry had started laughing and tried to slip out from under his girlfriend. Instead of quietly moving her without waking her, she fell and glanced her head off the arm of the couch. A brief moment of panic ensued, in which Harry and Ron both tried to check on her at once, and only succeeded in bonking their heads together.

Ron was gasping through peals of laughter as he grabbed onto Harry to avoid falling off the couch. "Oh- oh shit, oh fuck, oh my god. Is- is she- fuck- is she okay? Harry, you fucking idiot, check her head."

"She’s fine, dipshit. Fuck, that could have been so bad, shit.” Harry had sobered for the moment that it took to remember the diagnostic spell to make sure that Hermione was actually okay, and upon confirmation he sank back into the humor of the situation.

“Goddamnit, I can’t believe that happened. Good god.” He wiped his eyes and then got up to actually use the bathroom.

“Don’t get a concussion in there, Harry, the last thing we need is two of them.” Ron called after him, and he responded with a one fingered salute in the general direction of his boyfriend. He heard Ron’s collapse against the couch as he closed the bathroom door.

It was as he was staring at the green tiling on the bathroom floor that he found himself reflecting on the fact that if that had happened a few months ago, it would have gone much worse. Any injuries sustained by the three of them were largely blind territory that brought back horrible memories for the worst of the months after the war. It was remarkable that they could laugh through it, now.

When he came out to stick his still slightly damp hands under Ron’s jumper, he found Ron and Hermione curled up together, softly snoring. He smiled and climbed onto their couch next to them, levitating a blanket over the three of them as he went. It was a good night.

The next morning, he woke up first. They’d ended up tangled closer together in sleep, but he was still on the edge and managed to slip out to start breakfast and find the paracetamol for the three of them.

Breakfast was quieter than usual, with lots of gestures and grunts when someone wanted something. Wine hangovers were no joke. Later in the day, they went out to the garden together to weed, and Hermione suggested gardening as a potential profession. Harry vetoed, with the reasoning that he got to do it enough at home.

Ron bounced off that logic to suggest Quidditch, and they had the first of what would end up as their two final options. The other was working as a professor, which Harry took a full week to warm up to the idea of.

“I don’t know, becoming a professor seems like kind of a big deal. First of all, you’re shaping students’ whole lives, and second of all wouldn’t I need, like, higher education?"

"Oooh, good point, actually. I believe you would need to get a mastery in the subject that you want to teach, which you can obtain by apprenticing under an expert in the field. I think that was in Hogwarts: A History? It might have come from somewhere else, I’m not sure. As for the other thing, I’ve seen you with kids, Harry. You’re brilliant. I don’t know that you even really need to worry about that quarter."

"Mate, it might be good for you to get a mastery, actually. They usually discuss them with seventh years at Hogwarts, so I don’t really know much about them. Charlie’s was how he got started in Romania, actually."

"Huh. That makes a lot of sense, actually. I always wondered if wizards had an equivalent to college, but I was a bit busy worrying about the dark wizard trying to kill me for most of my life, so I never got the chance to look it up.” Harry had actually considered asking McGonagall about it during his consultation on his future, but they’d started talking about Defense Against the Dark Arts exams before he could mention it.

“Harry, you should write McGonagall about it. She’s always looking for new teachers, and even if you don’t end up wanting to do it, she can give you advice on how to start looking for a mastery, which you’ll pretty much need for most jobs, anyway."

With that, they’d settled the matter. He wrote to McGonagall, and she replied promptly with an invitation to her office to discuss it in person.

McGonagall had taken Dumbldore’s old office. Harry had known that she would, as Headmistress, but it still shocked him a little to see the space decorated so differently. Minerva McGonagall was a practical woman, and as such had no need for random devices scattered about the room. He walls were lined with shelves full of books of many kinds, and her fire was roaring. She and Harry sat across from each other in matching armchairs that Harry swore must have had some kind of charm on them, because they were the most comfortable chairs he’d ever sat in.

"Professor-” Harry started, and then stopped. He wasn’t quite certain how to go about this meeting, on unfamiliar territory. She wasn’t quite his teacher anymore, and he didn’t know how to approach that.

“You can call me Minerva, Harry. You are no longer my student.” The way she said it was not unkind, but he still felt lightly chastised. “I believe you wanted to discuss how to proceed in finding a career in the wizarding world?"

"Um. Yes. Well. Minerva- hmmm, yeah that tastes strange. Minerva, I’ve been thinking that it would be a good idea to get myself back out into the world, starting with a job. Ron, Hermione, and I have been fine in our cottage, but sometimes it- I just feel like it’s time. I’m getting a bit restless, I think."

Minerva looked amused at his rambling. "I know how that feels. Did you know that after Elphinstone and I got married, I took a break from teaching?"

"Really?” Harry was genuinely surprised, because he couldn’t really imagine Minerva as a house wife.

“Yes, really. I took a year off to take care of our home and try my hand at being a stay at home wife. A year was about all I could stand, honestly. I ended up going back to teaching the following September, I was lucky enough that Albus had been unable to fill my position beyond a temporary professor. I loved our house and I loved spending time with my husband, but I found it difficult to be alone all day and trying to productively fill my days. I also missed my students with no small amount of fierceness."

"I definitely know how that feels. We have plenty of things to do but it’s so easy to get distracted without the structure of school."

"Hmm. Speaking of which, how much do you know about masteries, Harry? I know that you and your peers all missed our usual talks about them, but you are also living with one Hermione Granger, who I am sure knows a fair amount about them through the pure virtue of planning three years ahead at least at all times."

Minerva said it with humor and fondness in her voice, and Harry chuckled. "You’re not wrong. I know that it’s a bit like muggle college, and that it’s essentially an apprenticeship? I am a little bit confused about what one would do if they got to their mastery and found out that they’d picked something that they actually don’t like as much as they thought they did- for muggles they would just change their major, but if you’re working with one specific person because of their expertise in the subject that you’ve chosen, what do you do?"

"That’s a good point. Most students have at least an idea of what they want to do based on what classes they liked while they were in school, but many don’t. Towards the end of seventh year, we allow students to start trying out different concentrations. Many will start to work with teachers in subjects that they like to see if they like the subject as much as they think they do. If we don’t have anyone specializing in the subject that they are thinking of, we can, more often than not, find someone who is willing to allow them to tail their work for a week or so to see if that’s something they like. We encourage students to look into at least three different masteries so that they can fully explore their options. This helps most students decide where they’ll end up, but even if you get to where you want to be and then decide that it actually isn’t for you, it’s not nearly as difficult to try something new as it would seem."

"Good lord, that it a lot of information.” Minerva tilted her head slightly in acknowledgement. “So, if I start where I am now, without any weeks of tailing anyone and a bit beyond graduation, what do I do?"

"Well, I might suggest taking remedial courses for the year that you missed, to start. It might help some with the boredom that you were talking about earlier, and you are a bright young man. I have no doubt that you will find you can complete the courses in far less time than it would take you to complete a full school year. We thought about offering students an option to complete an extra 'eighth’ year, but ultimately decided to keep Hogwarts at its usual seven years, and instead look into alternate options for them to finish. That September, most of our older students weren’t ready to return to the school anyway. War takes its tolls."

"Isn’t that just ridiculously true? We were all wrecks for months, rather a bit. In the end Hermione pushed us to start going to therapy, and that helped loads. As for the completing the courses, I think that’s a good idea- I could probably do them with Hermione and Ron, Hermione’s been trying to figure out the logistics of finishing seventh year since it occurred to her that we never did, nevermind the fact that she’s performing spells of that level since fifth year."

"I’ve been trying to remember that that is a letter I need to send out to everyone, though I keep forgetting. Even this far down the line, we’re still working through castle repairs and damages. There is always so much to do… well, that’s no excuse for slacking, regardless. I’ll have to add it to the list."

She pulled out a piece of parchment from seemingly nowhere, and began to write on it with a quill also pulled from the ether.

Harry was deservedly very impressed. "That was awesome, professor- what spell was that?"

"I am no longer your professor, Harry. That is a useful little spell Filius taught me… "

Their visit went on, with Minerva imparting far too much wisdom for Harry to ever be able to remember it all. They discussed a wide variety of topics, and McGonagall seriously considered all of the options that he had looked into, and was a particular fan of the quidditch idea. "Even if you don’t end up doing it as a career, it’s an excellent way to stay in shape. Far too many of my students simply stop playing when they decide on an office job, such a shame, and so much wasted potential as well."

That particular comment sparked a long discussion about the merits of playing quidditch recreationally, which led to them talking about the professor’s league at the school. Harry was shocked that he hadn’t known about it as a student, had never heard it mentioned, and Minerva laughed at him for it. Apparently there were many secrets of the staff and school that students didn’t know about.

When he left with several biscuits tucked away in a container for travel to bring to Ron and Hermione, he felt better. He was almost entirely decided on what to do for his apprenticeship, and he had a solid plan for his next few years. After the uncertainty of being on the run for a year combined with the certainty that he wouldn’t live past 17, it felt good to know what he was going to do, and additionally know that it had nothing to do with dark wizards. It was rare for him to be anything resembling normal.

Ron and Hermione listened animatedly to his recollection of the meeting. Hermione was especially delighted to find that they’d have a way to complete their schooling, while Ron was relieved that it was from home. "Gotta be honest, I don’t want to go back to Hogwarts. It’s lovely, and in a special way it will always be home, but I think there are a tad too many memories lurking around corners for me to be completely comfortable there ever again."

Harry nodded, though he wasn’t entirely certain he agreed. It was something he’d not considered, the memories contained within the school’s walls. Hogwarts was his home, and it likely would always be in his mind, the first place that he ever truly felt comfortable. But with how bad his PTSD had been, and still was on occasion, would he be able to live there? Walk its halls the way he had as a child? He wasn’t sure.

They started their schooling a month, later, when it became widely available. The three of them were in some of the same core classes, as they’d always been, but they were all taking different paths and therefore most of the time they spent with papers spread out around them at the dinner table that they never ate at were for actual working, not talking.

Ron was taking only what interested him, just enough courses to be able to get his degree. He tended to finish his work before the other three, and would go kiss the top of their heads as he got up to go start dinner. Hermione had taken as many courses as she could fit, as always. It was almost worse than third year, because the courses weren’t held in person. She had taken that to mean that if she could find the time for it in her personal schedule, she could fit it in.

Ron and Harry had talked her down from taking all available courses. She’d ended up with a fairly large courseload regardless, but that was to be expected.

Harry was, as ever, in the middle. He found himself with a courseload he was happy with, a few extra classes that he thought could be interesting, but not so many that he was constantly doing work. That worked out well for him, because he’d taken an herbology elective having to do with the growing of potions ingredients in the wild. It turned out that understanding the ingredients in a deeper sense than just their names was immensely helpful for potions. He’d never been doing better in a potions class without cheating, and he’d also begun to actually understand some of the notes Snape had left in the margins of the stolen book.

They got through their class work and watched movies and made tea and went for walks and before they knew it, the holiday season was upon them. Their classes all had breaks for Christmas, and they took full advantage of that time.

"What d'you think we should get Molly this year?” Harry through the question out from his position on the couch, draped across Ron and Hermione’s laps.

“That’s gotta be some sign of adulthood, having to give your parents Christmas gifts.” Ron’s fingers paused their carding through his hair as he digested the question, and then he resumed. “I bet she’d like some of that cleaner we saw the other day, the one that changes scent."

"Oooooh, good point. I was thinking maybe some new knitting patterns, actually- I found a bunch in the clearance section in the bookshop we went to the other day.” Hermione started diligently scribbling on the parchment in front of her under the “parents” section of her well-organized christmas shopping/gift ideas list. She turned to her boys to say something more, but as she opened her mouth the tinny sound o a timer going off filled the room “That;s your turn done then, Harry. Scoot."

"Awww, but I’m so comfortable, 'Mione.” Harry pleaded to Hermione’s uncaring eyes as he heaved himself upwards out of Ron’s lap. Ron scooted down the couch to take Hermione’s place as she laid down to replace Harry.

“Mhmmm. Well, it’s my turn to be comfortable.” Harry’s fingers found their way to her hair as her quill and parchment floated in the air by her head. “Alright, where was I? Okay. Ummmm, right! Under Molly, I want: "knitting needles, pattern books, and scent changing cleaning spray."

The quill started scratching across the page as Hermione explained, "The other day over tea she mentioned to me that she hadn’t a good way to organize her needles, and usually has so many projects going that half the time she doesn’t know which ones are already in use and which aren’t. I think we should get her a new set so that she can have doubles AND an organizing system. I’m sure if we look hard enough we can find a case that has an extension charm on it, or we can do one ourselves."

Ron looked down at Hermione with a smile on his face. "Brilliant. Alright, who’s next?"

Harry glanced at the parchment hanging in the air to see which space was blank. "Looks like we don’t have anything for Ginny, which should be easy enough. She was complaining about her broom the other day, but I know she likes the model too well to want a new one. I was thinking a broom servicing kit?”

The evening went on like that, and they eventually had at least a rough sketch of what they would be looking for when they went out to do Christmas shopping. They found a fair amount of the things actually on the list, and were able to get suitable substitutes where they couldn’t.

Their Christmas plans were this: they spent Christmas Eve at Hermione’s aunt’s house. She explained to them that her mother’s siblings had a rotation going, and that next year the three of them would likely be required to come to her parents’ aid with hosting. Her family was surprisingly large, and she told them that they tended not to gather for anything other than holidays. She never talked about them because there weren’t any other wizards in the family.

They found out that this was not actually true on Christmas Eve, when Ron walked in on one of the cousins changing her kid’s diaper with a spell. It was a rather awkward conversation, while Ron tried to explain that he was a wizard and she tried to obliviate him. Eventually, the truth came out: her cousins were American, and hadn’t been particularly affected by the war. They, in all honesty, had been remarking to each other all night that Harry looked oddly familiar to them, but had been unable to parse out exactly what it was.

They ended up setting up a lunch date for all of them for later that week before they apparated back to Minnesota. The cousins were very excited to find that there was another wizard in the family, and Hermione was similarly vibrating.

“I can’t believe, all this time, and I didn’t even know! I knew it would make sense that some of my relatives would be magical, but I didn’t think it would actually happen. I obviously wasn’t going to sniff around and risk them finding out just to see if they really were muggles or not. Oh my goodness, this is amazing. I wonder what schooling looks like in America? I mean, I know the basic principles, of course, but I would love specifics. It’s such a big country, and Ilvermorny is the main school that we hear of, but I’m certain they wouldn’t have travelled that far just for school, that doesn’t make sense, does it?"

”'Mione, we’re having lunch with them later this week. I’m sure they’ll be happy enough to answer your questions. We certainly don’t know the answers.“

Ron nodded as he hoisted the backpack holding their gifts in it higher on his shoulders. They were walking to the closest apparition point. According to Harry, who was using google maps, they were about 5 minutes away.

"Turn left here. For tonight we should just focus on trying to get ourselves home, I think. Did we end up finishing the wrapping for tomorrow?"

"Oh shit, I forgot, actually. We ran out of wrapping paper. We only have a few left, but still. Should we find a Tesco and stop in? It’s not too late, is it?"

"They’re open til 10.” Ron stopped walking for a moment to consult his watch on the time, which read out 9:37 p.m.

“Alright, let’s go then."

The tesco had one roll of wrapping paper with lumberjack Santa Claus’s dancing across it with axes. They were not literally dancing of course- there was a Tesco in London with a wizard section where they might have found something similar, but they hadn’t the time to go to it.

The next day, George refolded his "hot santa claus” wrapping paper into a hat and wore it all through dinner. Molly was too happy that he was smiling to scold him about it, although she did have to excuse herself at one point. When Harry came in to check on her, she was crying lightly into a handkerchief.

“Oh, don’t worry about me, dear. I’ll be alright- he just- oh, for the love of- he looks very much like his brother.” She blew her nose and took a deep breath. A weak smile graced her face as she looked up at Harry. “It’s hard, still. It’s been getting better, but- well, I didn’t think they could even survive without each other. I used to look at the two of them, always together, always finishing each other’s sentences, and think, god, they’re just like my brother’s, and oh, thank goodness they’ll never have to be apart. I just- I just wish I’d been right.” Her voice broke a little bit on the last word, and she started dabbing at her eyes again.

“I know. I remember in school, they were always together. No one thought they should ever be apart, but. I don’t know. George is doing- not well, but- he’s surviving. That’s all we can ask of him. That’s all we can ask of any of us, really. I think he’s being happy in Fred’s memory, instead of in spite of it, you know?"

"Oh, I know, dear, I know. It’s just difficult. I’ll get over myself, I just needed a moment. I love seeing him smile again, it’s like Fred’s back, just for a little. Fetch me a glass of water?"

Harry nodded and swiftly vacated the room. Even after all his therapy, he was still shit with emotions. He found Arthur and informed him of the situation, sending him back to his wife with the water she requested. He knew that was the right decision when he saw Molly again, tears dried, laughing at something Arthur was saying. Her arm was laced through his, a glass of wine in her hand as she leaned against him on the couch.

He took a minute to reflect that he rarely saw Molly so relaxed, and especially not since the war. He was glad that they’d healed enough at this point that they could, at the very least, enjoy Christmas. His musing were interrupted when Ron came up to him from behind and hugged him. "We’re going to play pick-up, you’re on my team. Ginny’s pissed about it, come on."

He turned into his boyfriend with a smile on his face and give him a peck. "Excellent, let’s go crush her."

Ginny, who was training to be a professional quidditch player, soundly kicked their asses. George and Bill helped too.

As punishment for losing, Ron, Harry, and Charlie went skinny dipping into the pond on the property, but ended up just getting everyone else wet until they all went swimming together, whooping and laughing.

It was a good night, and Harry woke up sandwiched between Ron and Hermione. He was content to lay there and wait for them to wake up, listening to their breathing and looking at the rise and fall of their chests. They were here, and they’d made it through- he hadn’t thought they would. In the deepest recesses of his mind, he’d done out the math and he had been so certain that they wouldn’t make it through the war all together- something would have to give. Thank god he was wrong, pseudo death or no. He wanted to be nowhere else than where he was, listening to the Weasley household wake up on a Christmas morning.

They all got up eventually, slowly stumbling their way into the kitchen as the lure of coffee and sausages called to them. Mrs. Weasley seemed happy to have all of her birds back in the nest. Percy kissed her cheek as he left for work, the only one who hadn’t been able to get the day off. The rest of them sat down to eat.

Overall, it was one of the best Christmases he’d had in a long time, one of the few that he’d truly been able to enjoy. It was reminiscent of some of his first Christmases at Hogwarts, the first ones that he’d ever known what it was like to get presents that weren’t hand-me-downs or worthless garbage.

He thought about that feeling of being new to a world of literal magic, and the fact that the most magical part of it all had been that he’d had an out, that he’d been able to get far away from the Dursleys for 9 months. He liked this feeling better. Contentedly settled into his skin, with a wide and bright future set out in front of him. He couldn’t help but think that just maybe, there was nowhere better to be.

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See Our providers.

What Can I Do To lessen Cellulite?

There is nothing that I feel can be improved at Cadogan Cosmetics. I was dealt with as well as cared for very well the location was very clean.

Cosmetic surgery outcomes as well as benefits can differ and also are various for each person. Therefore, https://luton.hi-fu.co.uk/ can not ensure specific results. Mr Alamouti is among our top boob job, fat reduction & abdominoplasty surgeons.

Nevertheless, it is essential to remember that although your external look will certainly look healthy and balanced and recovered, inside your body will certainly still take 6 to eight weeks to recover completely. The outcomes of the Principle ™ Facelift procedure will certainly leave your with a natural, fresh as well as vibrant appearance that lasts up to ten years. I really feel so excellent regarding myself and also can not think how much far better I appear to look. I would very advise having surgical treatment with Amir at Bella Vou. I really feel much more youthful and also revitalised in my look, as well as it's all thanks to Bella Vou.

Mr Super qualified in Medication in 1987 and also learnt Bariatric surgical treatment in 2001. We'll exist to assist throughout your journey, from yourfirst consultationto completion of yourcomprehensive aftercareprogramme. Facelift surgery can offer you a more vibrant and renewed appearance. Consent By ticking this box you consent to obtain marketing material by means of email, text, post and telephone calls from The Medical facility Team and Transform and any third parties directly related to your care.

Can you get frostbite from cryotherapy?

Frostbite is possible if someone has wet clothing or is overly sweaty during the session. Make sure the client is completely dry before they enter the cryotherapy chamber. If not make sure they dry off any water or excess sweat from working out with a towel.

What Can I anticipate during My Cryopen treatment?

Hi-Fu.co.uk hifu Daventry: full feature set will certainly ask you concerning the results you're wishing for and also deal with you to attain the best end result. Springfield Medical facility opened up in 1987 and is just one of Essex's leading private healthcare facilities. It is a 64 bedded device containing fifty 8 private bedrooms 4 of which are 2 bedded moms and dad as well as child areas and a high observation system with 2 beds. The operation is performed under a basic anaesthetic and also normally takes two to three hours.

What is the cost of ThermiVa?

The Non-Invasive, Non-Hormonal Option Average Cost: $2,650. Range: $1,250 to $3,900 for 3 treatments for the first year. One follow-up appointment per year: $1000-$1500 per year afterwards. ThermiVa is NOT covered by insurance or Medicare.

Tea and coffee are high in caffeine, so we suggest you to keep those to a minimum. Also, attempt to stay clear of foods that are high in sugar and salt as high as feasible. These include the advancement of a blood clot, nausea or vomiting as well as vomiting, as well as postoperative pain. As the surgical treatment entails the use of an anaesthetic representative, it is likewise feasible that you may create anaesthetic issues. At the end of the surgical procedure, the registered nurses will certainly move you to a recovery space. Below, you will slowly wake up from your anaesthetic under close guidance.

My skin is tighter and also more flexible, stretch marks are hardly noticeable, as well as I make certain I wouldn't even get approved for abdominoplasty surgery anymore.

As the ultrasound waves are focused throughout the treatment areas, you will certainly really feel small quantities of power transmitted with to accurate depths under the skin.

Dr Dhillon will evaluate the skin and assistance figure out if HIFU is the most appropriate treatment to deal with any type of concerns patients might have, factoring in the condition of the skin and the individual's unique goals.

A full HIFU face as well as neck procedure normally takesbetween minutes, while an upper body treatment on its own will certainly take about thirty minutes.

A gel is applied to the location that will be treated as well as the ultrasonic tool is overlooked the skin.

Routine touch-up treatments will certainly aid keep the skin producing new collagen and also prolong the longevity of results.

Some clients delight in an initial result immediately complying with the treatment, yet the ultimate results will take place in simply 2 to 12 weeks, as exhausted collagen is renewed as well as renewed.

There is no special prep work or recovery as well as usually on the face it usually takes one treatment to obtain a recognizable outcome on the body a program of 4 therapies generally obtains the preferred outcomes.

two therapies.

The procedure takes in between 1 - 1.5 hrs, can be performed either under local anaesthetic or sedation, and is treated as a day case. The natural aging process will certainly proceed from the factor accomplished following the procedure.

You want to redefine your face by lowering loose, drooping skin. The appearance of your face is making you look older than you feel.

Cryomatic Ii Cryo Console.

We have actually invited an option of the country's very best specialists to join us at the Cadogan Center to ensure that you can be sure that whatever the nature of your treatment, you will be seeing one of the top professionals in the country. A 'mini-lift', or 'mini-facelift', is an innovative anti-ageing procedure that uses the most recent minimally intrusive medical strategies to transform the clock back on the age of your face by about 10 years. I really felt entirely safe and guaranteed, he explained every little thing in fantastic information and I really felt really confident that I would get the appearance I wanted, and also I did I'm thrilled with the end result. Among the Bella Vou group will certainly give you a phone call the day after surgical treatment to see to it you're well, have actually had a great evening, and to address any kind of questions. Prep work for your treatment can help reduce the danger of infection and also boost recovery. Shower and also laundry hair everyday as well as quit smoking cigarettes as well as e-cigarettes to minimize the danger of healing issues. Sometimes people present earlier, in their early forties as well as the treatment can be successful in the seventies, eighties or even nineties.

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The benefit of the Principle ™ Facelift is that it is under local, not a general anaesthetic, making it much safer for individuals with existing clinical issues. Bella Vou is committed to offering fulfillment, the highest possible requirements of treatment, and a very personal touch throughout the client journey. The highly-skilled, professional personnel are enthusiastic concerning helping people achieve the results they desire, but likewise making their experience delightful, stress and anxiety, and convenient. You will have little bruising, swelling, or scarring complying with the Concept ™ Facelift. Many people can go back to their normal regular within an issue of days.

get In Touch With united States Today For Your Cryo storage Space Solutions (or Anything Else Gas Or Cryo Related).

How can a 60 year old lose belly fat?

Burn more calories than you eat or drink. Eat more veggies, fruits, whole grains, fish, beans, and low-fat or fat-free dairy; and keep meat and poultry lean. Limit empty calories, like sugars and foods with little or no nutritional value. Avoid fad diets because the results don't last.

I feel more certain, I felt there was a more youthful person waiting to venture out, it has actually made a great difference to me and also how I feel. The entire experience has actually been superb as well as I'm over the moon with my outcomes. The treatment defined on this web page might be adjusted to meet your individual needs, so it is very important to follow your medical care professional's guidance and also raise any kind of inquiries that you might have with them. Also after you've left medical facility, we're still looking after you every step of the means. Once you're ready to be discharged, you'll need to prepare a taxi, pal or relative to take you house as you will not be able to drive. You must additionally ask if they can run some light tasks such as looking for you as you won't be really feeling up to it.

Woodland Hospital has 28 solitary areas, all with en collection facilities, 10 short remain beds as well as a 2 bedded high dependency device. If you would like to talk with somebody what is included and also just how much the procedure will set you back, call our team on, or leave us a message via our online query type here. Other sorts of facelift include the mid-face lift and composite facelift and also include lifting much deeper layers of the face. A healthy diet regimen is an essential factor in assisting you to heal and recoup after a facelift. Eat great deals of healthy and balanced environment-friendly veggies, fresh fruit, and high-protein foods such as chicken, fish and also legumes.

Does Cryo hurt?

HOW WILL MY BODY REACT TO THE COLD TEMPERATURE? Cold air therapy in the whole-body chamber uses dry, oxygenated air, so you won't experience shivering, goosebumps or other reactions that you might associate with being cold. Because of this technology, unlike an ice bath or immersion, cryotherapy is not painful.

There are many various other anti-ageing solutions readily available, both surgical and also non-surgical. Ask for a telephone call from among our client advisors or publication an appointment at the Cadogan Center if you would love to review your problems in more information. You may function from home the following day, yet it will certainly rely on just how sensitive you are to the discovery of current surgical treatment, as to when you head out to fulfill individuals. The factor is that you will certainly not be jeopardising the result by going out. Our Surgical Client Expert, Ellie, addresses our patients most regularly asked inquiries. Adhering to the procedure, you will certainly recuperate in our ambulatory healing rooms for in between two to three hrs, depending on the scale of the procedure. Once our professional nursing team more than happy that your first recuperation is full and also you are secure to return home, you will be permitted to leave the Clinic come with by a good friend or participant of your family members.

Femiwand vagina tightening Up therapy Edinburgh.

The results of Mini Face Lifting surgical treatment are anticipated to be stable for 3-- 5 years, however note that as you mature your face will certainly transform throughout the years. For instance, the tissues around the cheek will remain to be influenced by the aging adjustments and also gravity. People can go back to their normal day-to-day tasks after 1 week, however prevent difficult exercise/ activity for 6 weeks including any contact sporting activities. Mini Facelift Surgery usually takes approximately 1 -2 hrs to carry out depending on the complexity of the surgery. Muscles additionally shed their size and stamina as well as with loss of bone particularly around the upper as well as lower jaws, the face handles the regular functions of aging. The skin loses collagen as well as hyaluronic acid, with sun-damage and contamination, pigmentation, fine blood vessels as well as wrinkles show up.

Is Cryoskin better than coolsculpting?

The product of these improvements is Cryoskin: a treatment system that is faster and more effective than coolsculpting. Cryoskin fat-freezing treatments are faster than coolsculpting and are more customizable. Cryoskin technicians hold an instrument that gets cold, then they move it around your targeted areas.

The skin loses flexibility and also ends up being lax, fat reductions and also comes to be displaced by gravity creating the common jowls, level cheek and reduced eye bags. Please supply a little more information so we can obtain the most effective member of our team to call you back each time to match you. The Cadogan Clinic is an award-winning boutique exclusive healthcare facility on Sloane Street in the heart of Chelsea. We offer one of the most sophisticated medical and also non surgical strategies in our fully-fitted consulting rooms, advanced operating theaters and purpose-built aesthetics as well as laser collection. The Micro-Lift treatment is made to assist alleviate very early indications of aging and also moderate loss of flexibility loss. Picking a surgeon who is an expert in their field and also concentrates on face-lifts will certainly make certain you get the very best outcomes possible.

Clifton Park Medical facility which opened in 2006, is located just outside York city centre. The healthcare facility has actually been rated 'Great' by the Care Top Quality Compensation and also has 24 beds, 2 theatres, a day situation system, a huge outpatients department with x-ray facilities and on-site physiotherapy, including a tiny fitness center location. Free auto auto parking is offered for simple accessibility to our easily positioned hospital just outside of York city centre. Our health center is registered with the Treatment Quality Payment and has superior facilities. We offer fixed price packages for our facelifts so you can feel confident there won't be any economic surprises. We suggest you to refrain from any type of exhausting activity for the very first 8 weeks. You can expect to return to work after one to two weeks, and after 3 weeks if you have likewise had a blepharoplasty.

You can contact our clinical cosmetic team anytime, day or evening if you have any worries or questions. Timberland Hospital is just one of Northamptonshire's leading exclusive hospitals situated in Kettering.

Both nurses who I handled were superb, as well as the whole team got along however specialist, and actually put my mind comfortable. That I was able to remain later than I probably required after my surgical treatment to harmonize my husbands routine was substantially valued. If you have any type of concerns or questions please phone call to talk to among our consultants or demand a recall to talk at a time that suits you.

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everythingjacksepticeye · 5 years ago

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Real Talk/My Ultimate Dream

[[TDLR; Homelessness is a huge issue, I have a dream to counter it - someday I hope to be a fuckin’ badass and dropkick anyone who tries to take advantage of such people.]]

Okay, so, this isn’t something I normally put here - I honestly added the jacksepticeye community in because it’s one of the communities I feel really close to and I want you guys to see this too.

Anyway - this Real Talk is about homelessness, and other possibly triggering matters. I just wanted to say that up front just so people don’t accidentally stumble across something they don’t expect.

Something I’ve always felt very passionate about is young people and homelessness. It’s always saddened me knowing that there are some kids out there that school is literally the only place they actually have a roof over their head and a hot meal each day. I feel like I’ve become even more aware of this as of late due to the fact that some of these schools have actually been closing due to the spread of illness.

Rent is so damn expensive these days - that’s one of the issues in this huge mess. No matter which way you look - apartments, homes, etc - everything is very expensive. Even if you do find a decently priced living space - there are always other expenses to consider - such as tuition, other school expenses, groceries, transportation, and many basic necessitates.

With that being said - let’s get to my ultimate dream. Unfortunately, this would require me being either a multi-millionaire/or billionaire so I don’t know how realistic this would be because I have nowhere near that amount of money, but I really wish I would so I could make this happen.

But anyway - I want to build apartment complexes. Not just any old apartment complexes, though. These complexes would be centered around being as affordable as possible. I would try my best to have at least one in every state - ideally right where they would be needed. It’d probably be difficult to have them in every city, but if there could be at least one per state I would be happy. These apartments would likely be a bit more on the smaller side, but still very nice and sturdy. It wouldn’t be just one room where you’d have to cram all your things in. You would have a kitchen, a living space, bathroom, a place to store things, and a bedroom. It would be your space - your home. Just like any apartment would be.

Now comes the affordable part. The rent for these apartments would be nothing over $100 USD. Period. Utilities? That’s on us and completely covered. There would be no string attached. For someone who’s been in a similar situation before, I know how utilities can add up over time - and when you have rent on top of that, it just gets even worse. Water, heat, air conditioning, electricity, trash disposal - all on us. Worried about not having internet for school? Don’t be - we have free WiFi here that you can use to your heart’s content.

Now I know what you’re possibly thinking - this idea sounds wonderful, but something like this would definitely be taken advantage of, right? I know that, unfortunately, where there’s affordability like this - there’s a high probability that it’ll likely attract the more shady crowd and become a hot spot for things like that. Nope. Definitely not. Security would be one of our top priorities. This is a safe space and would be treated as such. I was thinking that I would probably want it to be basically treated like a campus. There would be security guards working 24/7 here making sure all is well for the residents. You would still have to go through the necessary procedures before you move in just to make sure that everything remains safe, but other than that - there would be no discrimination.

Concerned about the cost of food? No problem. Each of these complexes have food courts at their center. Everyday there will be a choice of meals available to you if you feel like you can’t afford groceries for that particular month. No one deserves to go hungry and you won’t have to pay a dime for it.

Worried about your school or work being too far away from home? We’ll have your back. Transportation is always difficult - especially if you don’t have a vehicle yourself - so that’s why I want each of these complexes to have drivers. Kind of like Uber - but without the cost. Donations/tips are optional, but not mandatory. Drivers would still be paid and have a source of income, of course, but not by you. This transportation would be available to all residents 24/7.

For those who are kicked out of their home and abused due to their beliefs and lifestyle? Fuck that. Call us and we’ll send a driver to you no matter how far the drive is. We might not be able to set you up straight away with your own apartment, but no one should go through the pain, stress, and fear of being thrown out on the streets with nothing and nowhere to go. Here, you will at least be warm, have a roof over your head, and food available until we figure everything out for you.

We would be very strict with our nothing over $100 USD policy. No hidden costs or bullshit like that. We would care about each resident and treat them and their living space with respect. If you’re worried about your service/therapy animal not having access - don’t be. There will be no extra cost for pets. You can bring your dog, your cat, your favorite lizard - whatever it may be. As long as it doesn’t cause any issues or destruction - they will be welcomed. If something goes wrong - maybe your kitchen sink stops working, or maybe you notice a crack in your window, or anything like that - we’ll happily assist and help fix it for you as soon as possible.

It doesn’t matter if you live there for a week, a month, or for the next four years - we’ll be there for you no matter what. You will never have to worry about not having a place to go back to. Even if you fear that $100 USD per month is too much for you even so - we’ll figure it out. We’re not here to steal your money - we’re here to protect our young people.

It would be my hope to spread these safe apartment complexes across the U.S. and hopefully even overseas someday. Homelessness is everywhere and it would be my goal to try my absolute best to reach out wherever is needed. We have hotels everywhere, we have restaurants everywhere - why don’t we have something like this everywhere? Yes, there are shelters - and I’m not trying to discredit them because what they do is amazing - but we need something much more permanent. Something like actual homes for people to live in - a place where they can feel like its their own and not have to worry about not having a roof the next day.

It would be my hope that all of this would be funded by donations. The $100 USD rent and these donations alike would only go back to the residents and employees that work there. It would keep the utilities paid, the food courts running and the drivers, and the security and general upkeep of the apartments.

And me? Well - just seeing the smiles of relief of each person I manage to take under my wing would be enough. I don’t need anything else. I’d basically be the badass protective Dad who will dropkick anyone who tries to take advantage of this. No matter how large this would get - I would make sure that our policy of affordability will always remain true. If some bigwig comes and has a problem with that? Fuck them - I’ll be ready to fight for that until the very end. People who try to take advantage of people in these situations just for a bit more pocket change are disgusting and need to back the hell off.

As soon as you step through our doors, you will be welcomed. You will be safe. No matter fucking what.

This is my Ultimate Dream.

#world matters #homelessness #my dream #jacksepticeye #jse community #trigger warning possibly? idk I'll put it there just in case #trigger warning #homeless #students #student debt #sickness #rent

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otome--fantasy · 5 years ago

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Hey guys

I know I haven't posted anything since the weekend and I had really wanted to, but right now I'm not in a good headspace.

Wednesday night my dog got out of our yard and was hit by a car. I found her in our driveway alive, but she went downhill fast at the emergency clinic just minutes after my fiance and I had told her goodnight and promised her we would pick her up in the morning. The staff did all they could to bring her back, but they were unable to, and had no choice but to let her go.

Trigger warning for death and gruesome descriptions

I'm so broken up about it, and I feel horrible. I came out from a long shower and looked through my window after getting dressed, and saw her laying down in our driveway next to the road. She knows she's not supposed to leave the yard so I called her back expecting her to run back under the gate in a hurry but what I saw made my stomach drop.

My poor baby attempted to drag herself closer to the gate and couldn't use her back legs. I ran to her and saw she had wounds everywhere. At first I thought the neighbors dog (who wasn't exactly friendly towards other dogs and was known to wander up and down the streets) had gotten to her and tore her up like she did with one of my other dogs, but when I picked her up all I could do was scream her name and call for my parents and fiance as I carried her back into the house because her entire hind end was limp like a ragdoll, her mouth looked like it was bleeding, and her breathing was raspy.

At first everyone had thought some one had attacked her (several people have both attempted to lure her out of our yard and expressed how they didn't appreciate her barking and growling at them through our fence). I sat down on the couch with her in my arms and cried harder when I felt the rest of her go limp, because oh my god I thought I was too late and she was going to die in my arms.

I remember it all so vividly and it all just keeps playing over and over again in my head. I can be doing anything, but all I'll see is the moment I picked her up and my screaming.

I just hugged her as close to me as I could, and rocked back and fourth, and cried and screamed for my fiance. I know I was hysterical and I'm grateful he was able to quickly talk some sense into me and we rushed her to the nearest emergency clinic.

The staff was nice, and they took her in quickly, but the entire time we waited for word on how she was doing I felt so nauseous and shaky. I was glad when they pulled us into a room because there was other people in the waiting room and it was hard to hold back from crying. Honestly it felt like it was hard to breath the entire wait, but they said they had put her on oxygen and that they wanted to take x-rays and blood tests, and of course they wouldn't do it till they were sure we had enough money to cover the expenses for it, and to board her, and to keep her stable over the night - and that long back and fourth I feel contributed to the outcome honestly.

When we finally had gotten the x-ray's back and her blood work it showed that her blood was normal and her blood pressure was good, but the problem was just how many broken bones she had. One of her legs was broken in two places, her other one was dislocated and her pelvis was also broken. Then on top of that we couldn't clearly see what damage was done to her organs. They said her gums might be pale either because she was in shock or because she was bleeding internally.

I hate the way the doctor handled everything, and maybe it was just the fact that I was in such a stressful situation, but she just felt like she either didn't care, or wasn't sure how to handle the situation.

It felt like she just didn't know what to tell us, and that alone told me how this all might end. She told us that, surgically, there was nothing they could do for her there. My baby would have to go to a specialist to repair her broken bones, and all they could do was bandage her up some, and keep her comfortable and stable for her night stay.

After waiting in the room for a while, I was starting to get my hopes up because they came in and said that she was currently stable, and that we could go home and they would call to update us if anything changed.

They let us go to the back room to tell her good night, and we promised her that we would be back in the morning to pick her up and get her better.

We went to the main waiting room and signed off on the paper work that would allow then to perform CPR should anything happen, and then while we waiting for her paperwork and a copy of her x-rays they pulled us back into the room and informed us that she was going into cardiac arrest and they were starting CPR.

It felt like it all happened so fast. The doctor came in several times to tell us that they were still trying to resuscitate her, that she was having problems breathing on her own, and nothing had changed. And on the doctors final visit she informed us that they had tried to resuscitate her longer than protocol recommended, but they had to let her go.

End trigger warning

And just like that my baby was gone.

The doctor practically fled the room when I broke down. I was hyperventilating, I was lightheaded, nauseous. My fiance was so strong through all this, because she was his baby too, and did his best to calm me down and comfort me till I was coherent enough to communicate with the doctors and techs again.

One of the other things that hurt was the trip home with her stuff (I had called my parents and our friend who was renting one of our rooms to come say goodbye because they loved her too). My fiance sent me home with my mom while he and our friend waited for the staff to finish prepping her for them to bring back home so we could bury her.

I knew we didn't have the money to fix all her broken bones. The doctor had only given us a estimate for the cost of fixing one fracture, so that was all the money we had asked for on our credit card, but she had three and a dislocated hip.

Back in the room when things were starting to look up before it all came crashing down, I had come to terms with the fact that our baby would probably have to get her most damaged leg amputated so we could aford to pay for the hip replacement. She would have had to live the rest of her life with only three legs, but I knew she could do it and I and the rest of my family would be there to help her through every step of the way - helping her go to the bathroom, helping her relearn how to walk, and helping her with whatever therapy she would need to make her muscles strong enough to support her with only three legs. But she didn't make it, and we didn't have that chance or that option.

On the ride home, my mom said outloud what I had been thinking since the second I was told she was going into cardiac arrest:

She waited for me and her dad to come say goodbye before she let go.

She had been so strong to fight for her life for three hours till she could see us one more time.

It hurts

Mentally

Emotionally.

And I can feel it affecting me physically.

I'm so tired.

I feel so drained.

When I walk around the house, I keep turning around and expecting her to be right there behind me or at my side. She was my baby, my little shadow who followed me every where, my love, my heart, and right now, it feels like she was my soul too. Heck, just moment ago me and my fiance went to go snack on some cereal and he dropped a few pieces and, without even thinking, I said, "Give it to Honey."

All he could do was look at me sadly when I realized what I had said and I just went back to our room to cry.

I keep thinking I'll look outside the window and see her playing with her sister Penny, but the house is so quiet and Penny isn't running around and playing.

I may not post for a little bit, I will still keep writing because it does help take my mind off things, but even then it's hard to find the motivation to even pick up my phone other than to look through my gallery.

I apologize for keeping you all waiting, hopefully I will get something as good as the last few chapters out soon.

Thank you all for understanding.

#oof i just realized the pajamas i am wearing in one of the pictures of her as a small pup (and from the day I brought her home)#are also the same pajamas i wore to rush her to the emergency clinic on her last day of life #i feel kinda bad about the fact that while 9/11 will be a day of remembering the twin towers for everyone else #for me 9/11 will be the anniversary of my baby's death #sorry again you guys #feeling like a disappointment

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ladysaraholt · 6 years ago

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Request for Aid

Hello, mutuals, followers, and my various RP families. Sara’s mun here.

The past several weeks have been incredibly emotional, so if you guys aren’t interested, I’ll add in a break for those who would prefer to scroll past. For those that stay, even a reblog to help share this would be incredibly appreciated...

A few weeks ago, my mother called me to inform me that my grandfather had a heart attack, and that he was staying at the hospital because of built-up fluid in his lungs. Over the course of 48 hours, the doctors ran a myriad selection of tests, which led them to discover that he has End Stage Metastatic cancer in his lungs. After finding it there, they ran more tests to see if it was elsewhere. It was confirmed positive in his lymph nodes, adrenal glands, and bones, with a test pending to confirm whether it was also in his brain. They gave him approximately 6 months to live.

A few days later, my mother called me again, anxious and in tears because he was being so combative with the doctors that his heart rhythm was highly erratic, and exacerbating the fluid that kept building up in his lungs. At this point in time, they were also still waiting on the brain tests for confirmation of cancer presence. Everyone was sitting on pins and needles, hoping he would cooperate long enough to get his first round of chemo-therapy (which the doctors told them would ONLY be for quality of life improvement, not for added longevity).

Three days later, another phone call from my mom in hysterics saying that he had gone home the night before only to take a turn for the worst and get rushed back to the hospital. The particulars were not given to me (though the cancer had been confirmed to also be in parts of his brain), but it was bad enough that she put my dad on a plane from where they live in GA to MI where his parents live.

He ended up staying with my grandparents for six days. By the time he went back home, grandpa was stable and cooperative enough to go back home (for the second time). His first round of chemo was scheduled soon, and everyone was looking optimistic that he would remain with us through his time left in relative comfort.

For four long days, I heard nothing from my parents. I hoped no news was good news, and even managed to keep busy enough at work for the days to go by relatively quickly. Then on Thursday, I received a tearful call from my mom. My grandpa was back in the hospital - his cancer had now spread to his liver. The doctors had - by this point - tentatively shortened his time left to the end of January, and (according to my mom) that was being generous.

After a lot of back and forth conversation, I determined that I wanted to try to have my nuclear family (myself, my husband, and our 8-year-old son) travel to Michigan for Thanksgiving this year to ensure my son would get to spend one more holiday with his great grandfather (which we had done once a year up until this year [we went to Easter family get-together with that side of the family every year until this year - we weren’t able to make it this year]). I agreed to do everything in my power to ensure I’d be able to take time off work to make this trip happen for us, and for my parents, and for my grandparents.

But the fun of that day wasn’t quite over - about an hour after my initial phone call with my mom, she called me back to inform me that the doctors were now giving my grandfather approximately two weeks, give or take a little, to live. The acceleration of his cancer, it seems, had been incredibly aggressive, and they did not expect it to slow down at all. With that in mind, they now planned on stopping all treatment once my grandfather was stable, sending him home, and getting him set up with hospice care to make him as comfortable as possible.

On Sunday, my mom called me to let me know that they got him home and set up, with everything in place. He seemed to be comfortable and stable, for now. The one thing the doctors have reveled at in all of this is that my grandfather’s pain levels have been minimal throughout this ordeal. That alone still gives us hope that he will remain stubborn enough for us all to see one another at Thanksgiving in Michigan.

And this brings us to yesterday. Somehow along all of this, my mother had not been made clear that my intentions were to go to Michigan. Once she heard that was my hopeful plan, she went to see about plane tickets. Thanks to her long-standing good reputation with Delta, she managed to get a quote for the tickets for the three of us: $1100. My mother’s initial offer (knowing that money has been tight for us) was to cover two of the three plane tickets so that we would only need to pay for one. In order to lift some stress from my mother’s shoulders (despite not having a plan in place for it), I offered for us to pay half of the total instead of just for one ticket. While this helped my mother relax, the two hours I spent frantically trying to figure out where to come up with $550 dollars was quickly wearing my nerves away (all while I was at work, too).

On my lunch break, I had to run to Target to pick up a few cleaning supplies for work when my mom called me again. She was getting the plane tickets booked in my ear, while my husband was trying to find a way out of fronting $550 we don’t have in the other ear. I was incredibly hesitant, and vocalized it, only for my mom to stop me. She then informed me that my grandmother - who was infinitely grateful that we were trying to plan to come visit for Thanksgiving - had told my mom to buy the tickets and that the cost was covered. It was more than my heart could take. I broke down in tears, in the middle of the day in a damned Target, trying to think of something to do to pay my grandmother back. She’s been through more than everyone, and yet she was sweeping in to the rescue anyway.

That being said. I am opening emergency commissions for sketchy headshots, jewelry concept art, and handmade scarves. My goal would, ideally, be to make the full $1100 to pay back my grandmother. Regardless of whether my grandfather makes it to Turkey day or not, we will be making the trip to Michigan, and that’s not something I get to do very often (a con to my job, which typically blacks out the months of November and December from any and all holiday travel because it’s the busiest time of the year for us).

If any of the below interests you, please send me a message and we’ll get the particulars figured out. Here’s what I have to offer:

$5-$20 : Jewelry Concept Sketch (traditional artwork)

For those who might have an idea for a canon item their character may or may not carry with them, I can help give your trinket dimension. The more details / complexity, the more this would cost. Can add digital color for an additional $3. Seen below are a mix of requested designs for tumblr and concept art drawn by me at work.

$15-$45 : Character Bust Headshots

While I usually need a faceclaim or inspiration in order to create these, if you have a general idea (or give me creative license based on the info you give me), I can likely create it with little trouble. Line art only takes the least amount of time. Shading is midline. If you want color, I need screenshots / references, and it would be the most expensive. Armor is not something I’m strong at, but I would absolutely try to include some if it is wanted.

$25-$55 : Handmade Scarves

I have a self-taught talent for creating scarves of various sizes and styles. The ruffly scarves are good spring / autumn scarves - lightweight and fashionable - but still provide a light amount of heat retention; they can come in pretty much any color of the rainbow (availability would have to be confirmed, but I do have a bunch here at home already). The thick fluffy scarves (middle image and bottom left image) are a combination of 2-4 yarns interwoven together to create a very warm winter scarf that can either be traditional or infinity-style and provide heavy heat retention; they too can come in myriad colors (subject to availability), but it should be noted that multiple colors are more expensive. I also will put a disclaimer here that I will only provide a scarf to those who confirm they are not sensitive to wool products, as all of these are wool-based.

All payments will be taken via PayPal (which we will discuss via dms), so please be respectful of this.

Thank you for taking the time to read through everything. It means a great deal to me. Any and all small donations are incredibly appreciated (I’ll be trying to put something together for those as well). If you cannot purchase or donate, please help me out by reblogging this to share it. I’ll be reposting a shorter Commission post later this week for proper reblogging, after work is done for the week.

I love and appreciate you all for your time, and hope there is something I can offer to each of you.

(( to my various RP families: @blackbay-wra @holtandthornetradingco @householt @the-wyrmrest-sanctuary ))

#ooc #Sara #emotional stuff #commissions #any help is appreciated

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eatingsunflowerseedswhole · 6 years ago

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Happy belated national thrift store day [August 17]! This summer I have been consistently thrifting & have been amazed at what I have found for literally a dollar. ONE DOLLAR. I challenged myself to not shop at the mall (specifically Forever 21, my weakness) & I thought I wouldn’t find much options at thrift stores. But GIRL (or BOY) I have been proved wrong! I can attest that you CAN dress current & trendy just from the thrift store (for clothes at least, I have yet to expand to shoes haha).

In honorarium of my current favorite hobby, I’ve decided to share five outfits with clothing that I’ve bought from Goodwill & explain the total amount of each outfit accounting the cost per wear. As an added bonus I made each outfit dress code appropriate!

MONDAY

modern casual hippie

This outfit is the most laid-back out of all five. Having easy pieces to throw on is essential for school because there will be days when you really don’t want to try. The top & jeans (Goodwill) are perfect just for that because their relaxed shape makes them comfy & easy to throw on. I cut off the ends of the jeans for an effortless distressed look. Due to the top being a brand name, RVCA, it adds more thought to the outfit & prevents it from looking like a regular pajama shirt.

The sandals (Goodwill) are pushing it because of the extra effort to tie the ribbon – but they are neutral & match with just about anything!

I accessorized with sunglasses (Forever 21) as always. Protect your only eyes people! And I kept my jeans high-waisted with an old belt from Target or Marshalls I think. Finally, I am using a genuine leather backpack (Marshalls) for all of the outfits.

Should me the money!

top: $1

jeans: $1

sandals: $10 / 2 days = $5

belt: $10 / >6+ years = <$1

sunglasses: $8 / >8 days = < $1

backpack: $60 / 4 days = $15

TOTAL COST [accounting cost per wear] = $24

How I calculated it?

Since I used the backpack in 4 outfits (4 days) & the days in 2 outfits, I’ll divide the total cost by the number of days I used the item to get the COST PER WEAR. The sunglasses I’ve owned for months & have definitely worn them more for more than the original cost, same with the belt. As for the thrifted items I am going to assume that these are the first time I’m wearing them to “school.”

TUESDAY

cute & conservative tube top

The tube top (Goodwill) that I’m wearing is the focal point of this outfit (hint hint from the title!). I was able to incorporate this cropped tube top (Goodwill) into a school appropriate outfit because – well first of all, it’s a longer crop top which I ALWAYS appreciate! This is a factor you should consider when buying crop tops. If it’s a bit longer & not too short, it will be easier to bring into a dress code environment.

Secondly, I covered my bare shoulders with a handy-dandy cardigan (Goodwill) that matches with pretty much everything just like my sandals (Goodwill). Finally, I hid my midriff with these white high-waisted mom jeans (Goodwill). Wearing a pair of white color jeans elevates an outfit to look much dressier than just a regular pair of blue jeans. Owning white jeans is an instant fix that will make you look impressively stylish!

Show me the money!

top: $4

cardigan: $1 / 2 days = $0.50

jeans: $1

belt: $10 / >4 years = <$1

sandals: $10 / 2 days = $5

backpack: $60 / 4 days = $15

TOTAL COST [accounting cost per wear] = $26.50

WEDNESDAY

bougie on a budget

This outfit is the epitome of looking bougie on a budget! The top (Goodwill) by Stussy was in great condition when I found it at Goodwill. I appreciate the fact that it is oversized so it’s extra breathable & comfy. To make sure it did not drown my figure, I made a knot right at the front middle of the top & cuffed the sleeves for shape. The khaki skirt (Goodwill) by Marc Jacobs – YES, Marc Jacobs was at Goodwill – was a neutral base for the simple outfit. I love that the skirt has two working front pockets, a buckle, & button up details. This outfit shows that’s completely possible to find brand names in prime condition at the thrift store!

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Finally, I topped off the brand names with my new kicks, Fila Disruptor II‘s. Obviously, I did not cop these at the thrift store (that would have been amazing haha) & thus paid full price for them. But I think investing in a quality pair of sneakers is worthwhile because it will last a whole school year into the next. I own a pair of Adidas Stan Smith’s for 2+ years now & it still serves me well.

Show me the money!

top: $1

skirt: $1

sneakers: $70 / 2 days = $35

backpack: $60 / 4 days = $15

TOTAL COST [accounting cost per wear] = $52

THURSDAY

casually girly

To make a dress more casual you can wear it as a top (if it’s lightweight & easy to layer/tuck in)! My spaghetti strap top is actually a dress (Goodwill) that I tucked under my denim skirt (Goodwill).

I like buying long denim skirts from the thrift store because I can cut the length to my preference! I made sure this skirt’s length was dress code appropriate & I also made the back longer with a high-low silhouette. Also wearing a denim skirt apposed to a flowy material keeps the outfit casual yet girly.

I pulled out my handy-dandy match-all cardigan (Goodwill) to cover my apparently tempting shoulders & I resued my Fila Disruptor II sneakers. By the way, ignore my dress peeking out from the skirt. Anyways, I love pairing skirts & dresses with sneakers to make the outfit even more laid-back & casual.

Show me the money!

dress: $1

cardigan: $1 / 2 days = $0.50

skirt: $5.50

sneakers: $70 / 2 days = $35

backpack: $60 / 4 days = $15

TOTAL COST [accounting cost per wear] = $57

FRIDAY

more statement pants

It’s the final outfit! I kept the casual trend going but with a business/professional twist. The main item of this outfit is clearly the blue-green plaid trousers (Goodwill). These have been my favorite thrift find of this month! They fit high-waisted which is always flattering & helpful when wearing crop tops. Patterned or colored pants in general (like the white jeans from Tuesday’s outfit) always bring life to an outfit & make it seem much more thought out.

I kept the rest of the outfit simple with a white little boy’s shirt (Walmart), an accidental buy from my dad haha, my trusted Adidas Stan Smith’s, sunglasses (Forever 21), mini backpack (TJ Max), & a choker & watch (Target).

My dad bought a pack of what he thought were men’s white t-shirts from Walmart because they were on sale. So he gave me the rest & I actually like that the fitted silhouette highlights my figure. I, of course, tied the front (even though there’s barely any material lol) for added detail.

The mini backpack I would normally not use on a regular school day. But in college, I could get away with using this on a test day when I really only need pencils & my keys.

Show me the money!

top: $5 / 3+ years = <$1

pants: $8

kicks: $65 / 2+ years = <$1

necklace: $5 / 5+ days = <$1

watch: $10 / 10+ days = <$1

mini backpack: $20 / 20+ days = <$1

TOTAL COST [accounting cost per wear] = $13

That’s the completed lookbook! If you want to see a moving version, check out my Youtube video!

Otherwise, I hope you grabbed some inspiration to shop at your local thrift store or support a nonprofit organization like Goodwill. Whether it’s donating or buying items, the support you show Goodwill goes back into the community. I write as if I’m sponsored but I just really support the goals Goodwill has. But thrifting in general is a big help to your wallet, for your mental game (inexpensive retail therapy & adventure because you never know what you’ll find!), & environmental friendly. It’s mind blowing how much clothes are in the world. We are oversaturated & really need to be more aware of our imprint. With thrifting, you’re recycling clothing that could have ended up in a landfill.

I am definitely going to keep thrift shopping while I have time so let me know if you would like to see more thrifting posts! Any items I may not want anymore will be listed at my Vinted & Poshmark store.

Once again thank you for reading & I hope you have a wonderful day!

Yes, you can find a complete, trendy outfit from the thrift store & still look current! Happy belated national thrift store day ! This summer I have been consistently thrifting & have been amazed at what I have found for literally a dollar.

#back to school outfits #bougie on a budget #bts #completely thrifted outfit #thrift #thrift store fashion #thrift store haul #thrifted back to school outfits #thrifted outfits #thrifting #thrifting queen

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iwantasecretgarden · 6 years ago

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Dear Misty,

@mercedeslackeyblog - please print this for her in the hospital! I want her to know we all love her and are rooting for her.

You have been one of the icons in my life for as long as I’ve been reading. Seriously. I picked up “Arrows of the Queen” when I was twelve and fell dizzyingly in love. So in love, in fact, that my father bought me the set of them leatherbound. It was one of the last things he ever bought me. They sit on my shelf with me wherever I move to (and I have moved a lot). They are the epitome of my childhood.

How do I even begin to explain what you have meant to me? I wrote you a fan letter in my teens, but I don’t think it ever reached you. Websites were less...polished then. I tried to find a copy to see what I had said, but I don’t have it anymore, so I’ll write this from scratch.

First off, for someone growing up in the 90s, sexuality was a difficult topic. My father was Catholic about it. My mother was liberal about acceptance, but not very liberal about giving us the tools to recognize it. I didn’t really accept the fact I was bi until I was 26 (last year). It was an embarrassing realization, because I had always been conditioned to already think women were interesting and cool and beautiful. But I honestly and truly believe one of the reasons I grew up being so tolerant of sexuality wasn’t my mother’s liberal attitude, but because of the fantasy I read, which didn’t use sexuality as a dramatic plot device. Your books, especially, in depicting queer relationships, poly relationships, and interracial relationships in such an ordinary light, in such a non-complaining, non special, non interesting way (as it should be!) that to me it became ordinary. I didn’t understand the big fuss when people started coming out in eighth and ninth grade. Well of course Brett could like boys. Silverfox did, and he’s one of my favorite characters, a fictional hero who I use to help combat my own anxiety and work through impossible situations. I didn’t understand why liking girls was so shocking. Keren was the impossibly cooler most perfect big sister/coach figure. I was into horse back riding until 16 (when, unfortunately, my horse died). Keren has a lot of the surly riding instructor in her, and it was a far more interesting aspect of her personality than her relationship with Sheri. Keren had even assured Sheri she would have been welcome as their third. As a kid, it hadn’t even occurred to me to make an argument against it. I - Talia’s age - agreed with her. When life gives you child brides and weird cult compounds, it’s better to find love where you can. Genuine love. Regardless of anything else.

Secondly, it was a book I needed when I didn’t know I would need it. A lot of fiction - especially geared at children - skates lightly over topics of depression, anxiety, and loss. Don’t get me wrong, I love Harry Potter with my soul. But even at the age I read it I felt the shallowness of their reactions when Sirius died. I felt my own reaction even crying while reading the book to be stronger. It would infuriate me that the next book they sort of conveniently forgot it had only been a few weeks/months. That Harry was “sad but manageable.” For context, my dad contracted Lou Gehrig’s disease at 44. They told him he had likely already had the disease 10 years. He lost everything; his temper, his dignity, bits of his mind at a time. Any filter between his brain and his mouth. His fine motor control, like holding a spoon. His major motor control, like being able to stand up. He was in a powerchair within the year. As the oldest daughter, it was expected that I would help turn him, change his catheter, and answer his shrill screams in the night. I was fourteen years old.

Dad and I were inseparable. Father-daughter relationship compounded by the fact he had, in essence with a flexible work schedule, been a stay at home dad. He had been my primary caregiver, my confidante, my chef, my advisor, my everything. And now I was his punching bag as he lost a bit of himself at a time. “My friend, who’s a psychiatrist,” Mom always said it this way, to make sure we knew she wasn’t so weak as to need therapy. A challenge to dare us to say we did. “He says that he’s hardest on you, because he’s most assured of your love. That he can abuse you and scream at you and curse at you because he knows you’ll go back the next day. A moth to a flame.” And me staring blankly at her: “Of course I will.” Because even if it was my worst fear - it was, always had been - even if it hurt worse than I could have ever imagined - his death would have broken me, but only in half. His suffering crushed the pieces of me into dust and left me a gaping black thing sucking in the world - “I love him too much to miss a moment of this.” Even if every minute - every possible second - was me reminding myself I had to breathe and feeling my lungs on fire, my head was on the edge of a migraine, it was impossible to interact, but I had to. I had to smile. To go to high school. To turn in assignments on time regardless of the cost between going to bed at 2 and hearing him scream at 3.

Your books, though, weren’t fake. I held onto them with the assurance of that one quote: life is the scream into the void; art is the answer you are not alone. I held onto the depression and grief and trauma of your characters and felt sane. If I hadn’t, I might have thought I was losing my mind. I was, of course. And I had been conditioned Catholically to think of mental health as a weakness, a secret shame. I had been told by my mother psychologists and medication were wonderful advancements for those people; sick people. Sick in their mind, she would say smugly. Her adamant assurance was: “We have to go on like usual. We can’t let people know we’re struggling.” And so we did. Social events. Big smiles. Sleepovers (somewhere else, my friends explained, your dad bums us out). People didn’t find out he was dying until prom of my senior year. I was on the receiving end of a lot of horror from teachers (why didn’t you tell us? Ask for an extension?) I had to be normal I wanted to tell them, but I didn’t even know how to begin to explain.

Once a pediatrician told my mom I was deeply angry and tired; I was losing my father. I was fifteen. I needed to see a counselor. My mom went ballistic in a public waiting room. She aggressively turned to me and asked if this was true? There was no chance, of course, for me to disagree. I didn’t even want to. My loyalty to my family was (is) so strong that seeing anyone upset her so badly had put my back against the wall and made me bare my teeth. I reflect a lot on it now; how poorly that doctor handled it, the way she would have bungled it much worse if it had been physical abuse. You never confront the person in front of the child. Never don’t have a safety plan in place.

“She said you were so young,” my mother snarled on the way home. “When we both know you haven’t been young in years. I watched you. Watched you go from fifteen to twenty in months instead of years. Don’t you think?”

I could only nod, and when I covered my mouth, fingertips touched wet skin. I hadn’t been young in years.

Darkwind was someone I identified heavily with. Someone who changed his name, cut his hair, let his grief consume him. Someone who shied away from Silverfox’s help. Someone who was glad when his father still got some. The day of my dad’s funeral, I cut off my hair. I was 19. The nightmare had lasted five years. I had stayed home to go to a local college so I could keep living at home, keep shielding my younger sisters, keep driving them to school and viola practice and karate. I had to give up my extracurriculars early on (and lie, of course, on my applications). It was actually a disaster at the hair cutting place (not important, but the lady called the police thinking I had stolen her cell phone which had fallen behind some tools). I went home. My mother took one look at my hair and told me it made my face look fat. “It’s for Dad,” I said steadily. In my mind, I was howling like Darkwind. I wondered if I could break my name into grief and sorrow, but it was too hard to think of the name I might have been, since the person I had been was as dead as dad was.

On days where my two younger sisters were scared and confused (the youngest was 13 when he died), I read them The Fairy Godmother and One Good Knight. They liked that one especially well. I went on to absorb almost all of your works (I think it’s impossible though, to be honest. There are just so many that either you’re a witch or I keep reading the same ones again and thinking I’ve never read them. For instance, I have a Bard Song on my nightstand right now from a bargain bin. Never read it before. Recently read Four and Twenty Blackbirds). Of course, my favorite series was Valdemar. I know all those characters the best, having reread most of them over again several times. I liked Elemental Masters, 700 Kingdoms (some). I was sad that the Beauty & the Beast stories in both weren’t my favorites (The Fire Rose, Beauty and the Werewolf, since it’s my favorite Disney film (but as your stories follow the traditional fairytale a little closer, and that tale is a bit gross, I understand). I think my favorites were The Firebird, Phoenix and Ashes, Reserved from the Cat, The Wizard of London).

Honestly, I may be a tiny minority, but I ADORE Joust. I was sad there weren’t more of them. I spent much of the time I read them inventing my own dragon egg, my own falling through time and space. My own female girl rider takes on the Team without being just a sidekick who talked to animals. It is hard to recommend or talk about it without people laughing, and I appreciate it IS an incredibly hard-core nerd fantasy genre (ancient Egypt, jousting, dragons). It feels a lot like Anne McCaffery crossed with a Naomi Novik story (since Temeraire and Napoleonic Wars are equally hard-core nerd stories. I was lucky to stumble on that line recently - I feel like there’s not enough of the true blue 80s/90s fantasy voice anymore. Sometimes it feels all too dark and plot driven, lacking the characters and slice of life that your works have nestled in my heart, places like the Palace Compound that I know as well as I knew my middle and high schools. A place as real to me as they are, including my own room. My own Companion. My own Heraldic Whites when I turned 18 and took the leatherbound books from my father in an eyestinging rush of love.

Even now when I was looking up a list of your work, I’m amazed and appalled to see I haven’t caught any of your works since 2009 or so. HOW MANY ARE THERE 100? 200? I thought there were 70 something, but no, you’ve far outstripped yourself. I usually pick up the books in secondhand shops. I’ll go straight for “L” and then just tip all of them into my arms if I haven’t read them. It’s one of my favorite rainyday activities. I noticed you even have a book out this year! CRAP! It should not be POSSIBLE you can write faster than I can read! I’m 27 and I still read a lot of the books that came out when I was born or in diapers. Sometimes I wonder which books you’ve written are your favorites. If there are books you’ve written you skim through like “hmmm I don’t even remember this” and read it with the same laughing intensity as the rest of us, resting your thumb on “oh yes, this was when I was...”

Anyway. I know this letter is long. You’ve been a saint for even getting this far. So let me say this. When I think of the BEST writers of fantasy in the 20th and 21st centuries, your name is among the greats. I’ll say something like: Anne McCaffery’s Dragonriders of Pern; Orson Scott Card’s Ender’s Game; Robert Jordan’s Wheel of Time; Mercedes Lackey’s Valdemar...and EVERYTHING ELSE. A lot more people know the names of George R.R. Martin, of J.K. Rowling, of Neil Gaiman. But none of them have put out the solid, unending stream of work that literally POPULATES what most people consider “fantasy.” Your ideas, your work, your world-building influence television, influence Dungeons & Dragons, other works. You are a Giant in your field, and even if you don’t feel it, you have laid the groundwork for an entire generation to lay themselves reverently on the altar of your sacrifice, your reflection of relationships, and taught young girls like me what it was to embrace themselves, in all shapes - black tar and bi pride.

I know you probably tire of hearing this, but I want to be an author. And I’m a good writer. I don’t say it boastfully. I say it as something I’ve always heard, from teachers and friends and magazines. But mom said being an author was like being an actor - a pipe dream, a thing to do “on the side” and “as a hobby.” And it is a hobby of mine, for now. I did the Responsible Thing and became a lawyer. It was quite horrible. But I did it. For Dad, you know. Legacy and all that.

But don’t you DARE die before I’m published. I’m not talking about the hospital right now. I’m talking about choking on a banana; slipping on the sidewalk; getting mobbed by adoring fans. It is literally my bucketlist to publish a book, to meet you, to dedicate the book to a woman who I’ve never met, who I’ve never known, but who had influenced and impacted my life SO profoundly I consider her characters as pieces of myself. Her worlds as places of safety when I’m sad. The helping hand she held out to a twelve year old girl, and fifteen years later the one I’m still gripping tightly.

YOU are one of the best women in my life, and one of the best role models I’ve ever known. Even if we’ve never met, knowing that you could be a deeply nerdy human who loves horses and magic and reading every day and still be “successful” when the world outside told me I dressed wrong and looked wrong and felt wrong. That I needed to pick up a magazine, or watch sitcoms, or generally stop making them feel pitying and uncomfortable because of the things I liked. You made me proud to be a feminist, an ally, a writer, a dreamer, a reader, and maybe only lately of my sexuality, but still growing and going forward.

So, here’s lots of love and adoration and gratitude flooding your way from:

One herald (whose companion was someone she knew in real life reincarnated too early, obviously grove born, with mindspeech, with magic, of course and lifebonded with a Kestra'chern. Predictably, I fought the lifebonding every step of the way, and consider him a great nuisance).

One dragon rider in the jousting wars (with a dragon named Altaira (high flying) who is such a deep dark color she seems black but ripples cobalt and violet).

One grateful apprentice to the Fairy Godmother, who herself was saved from one of a great many plots by the impetus of her father’s illness/death.

And of course, from one persnickety lawyer in DC, drowning in student loan debt and of course too many books, one cat too pretty to be a boy named Gandalf, and his Greyhounds (yes, two, who are very lowkey and I think you would like. They’re like large sleeping cats more than dogs, but very friendly with horses). Of course I named the cat Gandalf simply for the introduction of “Gandalf, the Greyhounds.” Originally I wanted to name a dog “Gandalf...the Greyhound” but because of who I am I went to the shelter and asked for the dog least likely to get adopted and sort of came out with a bonded pair and then it seemed they needed twin names so they’re named Fred & George after Harry Potter.

But rambling aside, I adore you. I adore your books. I adore the world you’ve given freely for us to play in. Get well soon, and lots, lots, and lots of love. I’ll be playing in my worlds today especially a lot, thinking of you.

All the best,

Kaylee

#mercedeslackeyblog

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decordwertge1976 · 4 years ago

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can a parent be added to my health insurance

BEST ANSWER: Try this site where you can compare quotes from different companies :insurancefinder.xyz

can a parent be added to my health insurance

can a parent be added to my health insurance plan since I have high-risk for certain health conditions. My mom’s boyfriend’s health coverage is too low for the cost of my mom and family. Can you help me with that? I am looking for affordable health insurance for my brother living in a hospital stay. How much did it cost since he was discharged/released from hospital and he just recently registered to pay for his parents health insurance. What type of insurance should I get? This can be a great question if you need something affordable and cost effective. One of the things that a spouse on a parents or co pays for. There are more factors that go into determining how much you can contribute to your savings, but I recommend that people get at least enough health insurance to provide the family with their standard of living. The good news is that I recommend people who are on long-term medical care as well. Some of the things when thinking about which kind of insurance should you consider. can a parent be added to my health insurance in the future? If the parent cannot be added to my car insurance when my car is on the way out of state, I’d need to be added to their car insurance. Is the car too high of a risk for my insurer to issue me an admission ticket for driving without sufficient proof of insurance? It seems like a common occurrence, and a relatively common rule as well. In my experience, parents (ages 65 - 79) are not too concerned with their parent’s age, but are willing to take the opportunity to add a parent as the driver of their own car. I have a new car and am wondering if there is a way to add a family member to my car insurance? As for that’s a very common question, the answer is yes. The answer depends on the circumstances (i.e. parent’s age), the reason for adding the driver to my policy (i.e. coverage needs) and other factors. For example,. can a parent be added to my health insurance that my dad recently chose was sick and so they had me insurance company because i wanted to be able to keep my coverage and I think my dad decided to go for it because that it made good medical plan for me and he was in his mid 30s and that he has to pay his medical expenses for almost 15 months. My mom was very concerned about my mom being in my hospital for that illness because when my dad got hospital, there was no emergency care and it was hard going on in him. Since he had a heart transplant at the hospital, i was in charge of keeping bill straight as i was told that they wanted to save as much as possible so my daughter could be able to go back to school and to use the money to pay off her student loans. In our court system, health insurance is often tied to a medical debt and so we have to insure to stay in hospital a patient who has a large medical insurance policy. We can pay for the medical bills and the hospital bills.

Limitations of an Employers’ group health insurance

Limitations of an Employers’ group health insurance plan, under section 7, provide for the flexibility to choose among multiple types of medical benefits. In an Employers’ CIGNA plan, the maximum amounts paid out to the health plan and employees will be fully treated through any one insurer. If an employer, not having a health insurance plan, pays a premium tax, that penalty is reduced by the amount of the premium collected. In an Employers’ health insurance plan, the maximum amount that they pay for medical service for any employee is set by the employer (and is not paid for by the worker); any employee’s total medical benefits will end after the individual reaches age 50. Most employers have a set amount of money that they must pay toward the purchase of a plan. There should be only a set amount of money available to make up for health insurance payments, and the amount of an employee’s remaining medical costs must not be less than 20 percent of the total medical care he or she receives. However,.

Benefits of a group health insurance for your parents

Benefits of a group health insurance for your parents:If you have dependents, see about getting to make sure your spouse does not get lump sum or restricted cash benefits. To ensure, you should talk to your employer or your insurance provider about your options. In the past, if you went to the grocery store with a bunch of expired coupons to purchase, you may not have gotten any cash benefit. If your co-parent had a serious medical accident, it would often cost an insurer hundreds of thousands of dollars, and the person would become the insured of their co-parent. In such a case, the co-parent’s insurance company might raise their premium to more than double what an insured person’s co-pays were. And if the co-pays the co-pays, they might not be responsible to pay as much. In such scenarios, the co-pays would vary, and the co-insurance company would make the premium lower. A has a co-career,.

Characteristics of a Good Health Insurance for your Parents

Characteristics of a Good Health Insurance for your Parents - You, your Parents, and your Careful Parents - It’s often surprising how much less healthy you and your friends are when you are young. If your parents have health issues, your Parents may not think it is a major issue. When this happens, the parents may believe you have a higher risk than they realize, as you would be. We are a company dedicated to providing you great rates for all our families. We know you may be stressed about your weight and health insurance status, and we do it only during our busiest days (we work every day to give our clients the best health insurance rates). This means we can help our staff and clients look at the statistics related to our members that look to see the most common health insurance risk factors. Finding affordable car insurance in Georgia can be difficult. Rates can vary significantly from one company to the.

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#1. The premium of a family floater health insurance plan is subject to the age of the eldest member of your family.

#1. The premium of a family floater health insurance plan is subject to the age of the eldest member of your family. The minimum age is 50 in US. To qualify for a special policy, you must live in the same household. You may have health insurance company, but in most US, you cannot depend on them to get you treatment for health problems. If you want to obtain medical treatment for a health insurance policy, you don’t have to choose their policy. You can still work with the health insurance company to get the treatment you need. I’ll be the first person in line for your medical care. I’m so happy that I was able to save their money on my insurance. Thank you. I’ll do something crazy with a and have to have the insurance. Thanks for sharing. I was the first person to be hit by an uninsured vehicle in 2014. I was able to get the medical treatment and I was hurt the very next day. I lost my health insurance. She filed a lawsuit against my former owner at insurance company. They sued for.

Single parents: what should you understand about health insurance?

Single parents: what should you understand about health insurance? It can be confusing — what is life insurance and what is whole life? There’s a lot to learn about insurance and how it works. We started our guide with this question after reading this article, and with your help, we’ll walk you through how whole life insurance works and the various insurance products that are available to most families. Whether you’ve just picked your first new job, re thinking about starting a family for the first time, or want to protect your children with your best wishes, whole life insurance is a lifesaver for most families. Your family is unique — you want to make sure you have a policy that will always offer the right level of insurance for your child or your whole life policy. That’s because, yes, whole life insurance is a long-term policy that can be purchased for much, much more than you would with term life insurance. Whole life insurance is typically meant to last a.

Don’t Include Your Parents in Your Family Health Insurance Policy! Why?

Don’t Include Your Parents in Your Family Health Insurance Policy! Why? Most people who purchase health insurance are either enrolled members of a college or a nonprofit with an option for coverage from an employer, a college, or a nonprofit. There are very few reasons why people should not purchase health insurance from an employer. Many people will choose to purchase insurance through their employer rather than the healthcare they’ve worked so hard to attain. At the end of the day, the health insurance companies do not want or need qualified workers or members of the public who work for them to get covered for free and will give coverage to those workers. It will be expensive. There are an estimated 2.1 million uninsured consumers under the age of 18 across the United States. Nearly 2.1 million households are uninsured. You may not know it, but there are 4.3 million eligible Americans who are uninsured, and there are hundreds of thousands of uninsured Americans living without health care coverage every day. You should be able to purchase health insurance from an employer regardless of where you’re.

What is Actually an Employer’s Group Health Insurance?

What is Actually an Employer’s Group Health Insurance? An employer’s group health insurance policy covers you for medical services related to your health, such as doctor visits, emergency surgery, radiation therapy and, sometimes, treatment for cancer, neurological problems or stroke. You may have the option of covering yourself or your employer’s group health insurance, but there are many advantages and disadvantages to choosing your group health insurance plan. These disadvantages include some companies won’t let you buy your group health insurance plan directly to them, so if you choose to shop a group plan directly you’ll need to apply for the group plan through your employer’s group health insurance, then that’s when you will receive benefits at the employer’s facility, rather than a group insurance benefit. If you are planning on shopping for individual coverage for yourself or your plan‘s dependents after a job loss, it’s important to understand the advantages and disadvantages of individual health insurance plans before you consider buying one. Although group.

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