#and my doctor recommended i let my period happen once before starting the new stuff

[pepperstreak]

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[nextstopwonderland]

Bryan/Claudio #22, slow dancing?

Predictably I decided to make this a future timestamp sequel to one of my verses. This time the roh/early wwe one, these things will never change for us at all.

This references a lot of stuff from that story, so I recommend reading it first.

Takes place right after the 6/22/22 dynamite when Bryan announces he won’t be at Forbidden Door but he has a secret replacement.

Just sap and fluff. A smidgen of angst & past Nigel/Bryan

If I just lay here (1400 words)

Bryan is running on adrenaline from the moment he finishes the promo, and all the way to the Milwaukee airport and back home.

(He booked himself on the red-eye, but Claudio refused to let him take a Lyft from the airport.)

He’s disappointed he won’t be facing Zack yet, but he’s also excited for what’s to come. They’re keeping it a secret as much as possible, but naturally the dirt sheets know Claudio’s contract expired and he hasn’t re-signed yet.

So there’s speculation. Just like there’s been speculation on Bryan and Claudio’s relationship for years now.

It’s an open secret within the business, they’ve just never felt the need to make some huge statement.

After Bryan came back from his retirement, they made things even more official than they had been — buying a modest house together, in Washington but also not too close to home.

It felt like a vow renewal, even though they’d never formally taken any. Bryan hadn’t been in a great place, during that period of forced retirement. He found himself playing out his own version of what happened between him and Nigel, and he was close to fucking things up for good.

It was actually Nigel who pulled his head out of his ass, told him to get whatever help he needed to sort it all out, so he didn’t throw away the most important thing in his life.

(The ‘like I did’ went unspoken.)

It had been the pep talk Bryan needed, and he stopped pushing Claudio away after that, had a lot of therapeutic conversations with Nigel, and channeled his uncharacteristic anger and frustration into meditation and holistic retreats.

He reconnected more with nature, trained as hard as he could, and got cleared by every doctor except the one who mattered. Until he finally did.

Things were perfect again after that, until Bryan decided it was time for another change, this time on his terms.

AEW felt like a breath of fresh air, as close to being in Ring of Honor again as he could get but also different, new.

Claudio had still been on contract when Bryan signed and not ready to leave yet, but they both knew it was coming. When Blackpool Combat Club began they couldn’t stop talking about it together, thinking how perfect Claudio would fit; coming up with ideas and storylines and training regimes for Wheeler.

Claudio had always been an unofficial member, from the start, because he’s an extension of Bryan. And soon he’d be here for real, albeit Bryan not joining him right away on account of his injury.

As if on cue, his shoulder begins to ache more as he carries his bag through the airport, breaking him out of his thoughts.

As does his phone buzzing in his hand.

I’m at arrivals. How are you feeling sweetheart?

Bryan’s smile is instant.

He types with one hand as he walks through the terminal.

Alright. Tired. A little sore, nothing terrible.

should’ve let me come with you. We’ll have a bath before bed xo

Bryan pockets his phone, still smiling although now feeling rather anticipatory over what a bath will undoubtably entail.

He knows Claudio wanted to come along with him, but it was best not to possibly be spotted, to keep this all as much on the downlow as possible.

Still, he can’t wait. Can’t wait for Claudio to be back in the same company as him. To travel with him once more, have their schedules line up. Be in the ring with him again. He’s so close to having everything he wants.

Bryan exits the terminal and spots Claudio immediately, leaning back against the car in one of his polo shirts that cling to him in all the right places. It’s the purple one he knows that Bryan loves, and it causes a predictable jolt of arousal to his dick.

His smile is met by a matching one as Claudio spots him, jogging forward and immediately grabbing Bryan’s bag to put on his own shoulder.

“I’m fine,” Bryan huffs around a fond laugh. Claudio will never change: always the protector, the worry wart.

“I know,” he says, wrapping Bryan up in a strong, tight hug. “I missed you.”

“Missed you, too.” He sinks into the embrace instantly, never taking for granted how good this always feels.

Claudio presses a discreet kiss to his hair before pulling back and popping the trunk and placing Bryan’s bag inside it.

The car is still running and there’s music playing as Bryan slips inside and buckles up.

Bryan recognizes what’s on; Claudio must have been feeling nostalgic.

“This The Playlist?” he asks when Claudio’s behind the wheel, even though he already knows the answer.

“Mmm. I was adding new songs, and decided to start at the beginning.”

Claudio puts the car in drive and places his hand over Bryan’s for the rest of the ride, while Bryan is transported back in time.

They talk about the show (which Claudio of course watched), Forbidden Door, how the garden is doing.

As they’re nearing home, a track comes on that makes Bryan laugh.

“This one seems a little too sappy for you.”

“Says the man who likes Ed Sheeran.”

“Fuck off, he isn’t bad,” Bryan laughs some more, Claudio joining in. They pull into the driveway as Snow Patrol still plays “Anyway, I always liked this song, I just dont think I realized you did too.”

Claudio kills the engine while looking over at Bryan, a hard to read expression on his face.

“What?”

Claudio shakes his head. “For someone so smart…”

He opens the door, so Bryan gets out too.

He rounds the car, meeting Claudio near the trunk. “Hey, what am I missing here?”

“You always used to hum it, or say ‘leave this on’ when it came on the radio.” Claudio grabs his bag out of the trunk, slinging it over one shoulder and wrapping his other arm around Bryan’s, careful of his injury. “Don’t you remember?”

They head up the walkway, Bryan jogging memories of decades past. “Yeah, now that you mention it.”

“I liked it because you liked it.” Claudio unlocks the door and they head inside, flicking on lights and toeing off shoes. Bryan’s bag gets set down in the hall and they head toward the kitchen, Claudio’s arm around Bryan’s waist now.

He bends down to talk low against Bryan’s ear. “It made me think of you. Especially…”

He trails off and they come to a stop in front of the kitchen island. Bryan turns to him, sling his own arms around Claudio’s waist. “Especially when?”

“The train from Liverpool to Kent. You fell asleep on my shoulder. I added the song to my mp3 player shortly after.”

Bryan blinks up at him. He remembers that. He’d been messed up after Unified, Nigel having to go to the hospital and missing the reunion event. He’d needed Claudio then, who always made him feel comforted, safe.

Loved.

It’d been a confusing time for him, knowing he felt deeply for Nigel but also acknowledging that Claudio felt like more than a friend. His brain and his heart can’t divide that way, and so when it happened with Nigel he was all in.

Looking at Claudio now, hearing him talk about that time, feels bittersweet.

“Play it.”

“Hmm?”

“Play the song on your phone.”

Claudio raises an eyebrow but takes his phone out of his pocket and queues it up, before setting it down beside them on the island.

“Now dance with me.”

Claudio laughs loudly until he realizes Bryan is serious, already stepping in closer and winding his arms around Claudio’s neck.

“Your shoulder—” Claudio begins, but Bryan leans up to kiss him for the first time in days.

“Just dance with me, Claudio,” Bryan whispers against his mouth.

Claudio groans, pulling Bryan closer with his arms around his waist before kissing him properly. They sway to the music, kissing slow and deep in time with it. It feels dreamlike and as cheesy as the lyrics to the song, but that’s also what makes it perfect.

They break the seal of their lips after a few minutes. Bryan drops his head to rest against Claudio’s chest while he presses kisses to his hair.

“Thank you for telling me that,” Bryan says when the song begins to fade, the two of them still swaying.

Claudio strokes his cheek. “You have to know so many songs on there are for you, about you.”

Bryan assumed there might be some, but they’d never really talked about it before.

Bryan looks up at him, eyes a little shinier than before. “Looks like you’ll have to add some more soon, with this new chapter starting.”

Claudio kisses him softly. “Oh liebling, believe me. I’ve already begun.”

End

[genderqueerpositivity]

Tomorrow makes six months and one week on T!

TW: medical stuff, periods, the usual.

Earlier this month I had my six month appointment and blood tests, where we discovered that my T levels were too high to even be properly measured. Which was a little bit shocking but also not surprising; I was having some wild mood swings at that dose, as well as some random cramping. It really felt as though the changes I had been seeing previously slowed down at that dose; the theory is that my T levels were so high that the excess testosterone ended up being converted back to estrogen. Apparently some people just absorb T gels and creams very well.

The decision was made that I'd drop back down to my original starting dose, which is now perfectly fine with me. About two weeks out from that now, I've already noticed a difference. More stable mood, no more cramps.

I haven't got much else to add to that. My eyebrows seem thicker now? And I have a couple new chest hairs, I guess.

As far as the skin situation goes: someone suggested on one of my last posts that I switch from a razor to an electric shaver, so I did. I've noticed a big improvement since doing that!

I also started using tea tree oil on some of the spots on my face, and I think it's helped a lot. Unfortunately the tea tree oil is doing nothing for the acne that has suddenly appeared all over my chest (which I think has to do with sweating at work, where the A/C hardly works). The tea tree oil also isn't helping the irriated piercing that I originally bought it for (so if anyone knows how to get rid of an irritation bump on a facial piercing, let me know because ugh).

Six months on, I'm think I'm still mostly gendered as female? Although I did get called a gentleman last week and that was neat.

Here's my most recent thing from the voice analyzer app:

Over the phone, at drive thrus, in other situations where I'm heard better than I'm seen, my normal speaking voice passes for male now. It's the best. I do still have...an upper range? That isn't shown in this graph, that recording was taken at my normal speaking voice. My voice can still go a little higher than that, and I mostly catch myself doing that when I'm in louder environments where people have a harder time hearing me (mostly at work).

Apparently my period tracking app says it's been 50 days since my last period ended (which I think isn't quite accurate??). My last period happened on the dose of T that I'm now on again, so I don't know if my period is going to return once my T levels drop. I guess that is a wait and see situation. I would like to see it stop for good...but if it ends up being a few days every few months, I can probably tolerate that.

I've been debating getting the birth control implant anyway (the one that goes in the arm, not the one that goes in the uterus) at some point before the end of the year and my deductible resets.

Speaking of going to the doctor...I have to do that, because I'm past due an appointment and I'm low on my other medications. I...failed to mention that I'm on T now at my last appointment. It's more obvious now and I definitely ought to say something this time, but I am legitimately not sure what is going to happen when I do, so I've been putting off the entire appointment. Go me. I'm also avoiding their recommendation that I schedule a pap smear because I'd rather be hit by a bus, but I'm sure they're gonna try to insist on it if I go in talking about birth control. Dammit.

[saeyoungchoismaid]

Brothers’ + Diavolo’s reaction to their s/o on their period

Genre: fluff Warnings: none A/N: I made it to where demons/angels don’t have periods

Lucifer:

he walked into your shared bedroom to see you buried under your blankets

eating candy 

and crying over whatever movie you were watching on your phone 

instantly, he’s worried, confused, and curious 

he slowly walks over to you and quietly gets your attention, not wanting to spook you 

you look up from your phone to stare up at him with watery eyes 

“What’s wrong, love?” he says softly, sitting on the bed by your legs

“I’m not feeling well,” you reply calmly, wiping the tears from your eyes

he frowns at this 

“Why? What’s wrong? Did one of the idiots do something t-”

“No, no. I’m just on my period,” you explain shortly

there’s a long pause after that 

Lucifer, for some reason, never expected this to happen

I mean, demons don’t have periods

even angels don’t have them 

guess he should’ve known better

“You’re what?” is his brilliant response 

you giggle and explain to him what’s going on, reassuring him you’ll be fine 

he doesn’t hesitate to get what you need when you need it though 

Mammon:

he doesn’t know what to do 

he doesn’t even know what a period is 

and you’re bleeding???

isn’t that serious????

humans can’t lose this much blood, right?????

but you seem completely chill 

you’re just laying on your bed in some comfy clothes, eating junk food, and watching tv

how are you so calm??

despite his worries that you’ll literally die, he trusts your judgment and doesn’t rush you to a hospital 

he constantly asks what you need though and, of course, you use this to your advantage 

you make him bring you drinks, snacks, blankets, and whatever else you could possibly want 

after making him your slave for fifteen minutes, you finally relent and tell him you just want cuddles 

he happily obliges to that one 

he all but jumps on your bed, curling up with you to watch whatever the heck you’re watching 

Levi:

he once played a game where he was a human doctor 

let’s just say he found out some things that he never thought he’d know 

so, when he finds out you’re on your period, he’s only a little shocked 

that game wasn’t just fabricating things up out of the wazoo??

humans literally bleed out of their vaginas???

now he knows just how cruel God is 

he has to do a little research before doing anything 

he looks up everything there is to know about the human period 

he learned 1. they bleed a lot from anywhere from 2-7 days 2. they can have cramps and other physical pain 3. humans get cravings during this time 4. you won’t die 

he had to search a lot to get that last one

apparently, it’s not a very popular search 

after getting all his information, he finally goes to you 

he helps you with whatever you need

anything from getting you a drink to giving you a massage 

during the time of your period, he’ll randomly blurt little ‘fun’ facts about the human period 

“Did you know that menstruating makes you hornier?” 

he got wacked for that one 

Satan:

of course this demon already knows all about it 

with the number of books he reads?

please, he probably knows more than you do 

as soon as he finds out, he just leaves without a word

you felt like crying, seeing as how you thought he was disgusted by you 

before you could get far in crying, he’s suddenly back with a bunch of stuff 

extra blankets, a heating pad, snacks, candy, medicine, warm and cool drinks, a book he recommended you to read, and a whole bunch of other stuff 

you’re in awe, to say the least 

your heart probably grew three sizes 

he cuddles you as he gently rubs your abdomen over the heating pad 

you ask him how he knows so much

because you were having ‘girl’ time with Asmo once and when you mentioned your period, he had no idea what you were talking about 

he only chuckles and explains he’s not as dense as his brothers 

he tells you about all the human books he has in his room and the library 

he knows plenty about the human body 

“How do you think I’m so good at pleasing you and making you orgasm so hard that you’re literally seeing stars?” 

you let out a squeak as you hit him, a dark blush coming to your face 

Asmo:

he, just like his other brothers (besides Satan), had no idea what you were talking about 

he wanted to have ‘girl’ time when you said you didn’t feel like it 

he was thoroughly confused 

you always feel like it

what’s changed?

he offers to paint your nails while you tell him what’s wrong 

you agree and lean back against your pillows once you sit up 

you instantly change your mind when you smell the strong scent of the nail polish 

you ask him to put it away, closing your eyes for a moment 

he pouts but does as he’s told 

he then offers to brush and braid your hair instead 

that you instantly agreed with 

as he plays with your hair, you feel your headache subside a bit 

you explain to him what’s wrong and that what you’re going through is normal

and that you’ll be right as rain in a couple of days 

he coos at you, wrapping his arms around you 

“Why didn’t you say so, love bug? What can I do?” 

after helping you to the best of his ability, he cuddles you and plays with your hair until you fall asleep

while you're asleep, he does some research 

apparently, sex can help ease period-related symptoms, such as cramps 

once you're awake, he tells you this new information 

you're surprised that he's not disgusted and actually wants to try it 

"Honey, I'm the avatar of lust. I see this as free lubrication," he replies with a smirk before getting to work 

Beel:

just like pretty much everyone else, he’s lost 

that doesn’t stop him though 

he’s swift to make you all your favorite foods and more 

while he secretly makes your surprise, he brings you some snacks and candy 

he also gives you a bottle of water and tells you to drink it all by the time he gets back

he’s quick to make all the food, it taking everything in him to not take bites 

when he brings you tray after tray of food, you assure him that you can split it with him 

he feeds you and smiles when he sees that you’re feeling better

once you confirm that you’re full, he’s quick to finish everything off for you 

after that, he cuddles you and makes sure that you’re as snug as a bug 

he’s ready to get up if you need anything, running from your bedroom to whatever place held what you wanted 

you quickly learn to keep your mouth shut 

you just so happened to mention wanting cotton candy, a human world only delicacy, and he rushed off

he found Lucifer, made him take him to the human world, and tracked down one of those big buckets of cotton candy 

when he returns, you thank him but make sure to also scold him 

“Baby, I didn’t need this. I ju-”

“But you’re hurting. I want to make you feel better,” he says softly while not looking at you 

he looks like a kid who’s getting scolded for being up past their bedtime 

and how can you stay mad at that?

you reassure him it’s fine and cuddle back into him, starting to eat the cloud-like dessert

and, of course, you shared with him

Belphie:

he woke up from a nap with you to see red on the bed

just like anyone else who sees a human bleeding this much, he starts panicking 

he wakes you up and basically shouts in your face that you’re dying and that you have to go to the hospital 

you’re very confused, to say the least 

he starts to check for a wound while yelling at someone to get the car ready or call an ambulance 

he eventually finds the source of your wound 

there’s a lot of blood in your underwear 

he thinks that’s an odd place to stab someone or whatever but he brushes it off in an instant 

he’s quick to ask how you didn’t notice the pain in your vagina of all places 

that’s when things click for you 

you’re beyond embarrassed

you shoo him out of the bed with hot cheeks, mumbling things to yourself as you take everything off the bed

he’s flabbergasted 

“What are you doing? You’re dying and you want to do laundry?” he shouts 

you roll your eyes, throwing the, basically ruined, heap of blankets and sheets to a corner of the room

“I’m not dying. Calm down,” you reassure, making your way to the bathroom to clean up 

he’s so worried that he almost follows you in 

after locking him out, he let’s everyone know that it was a false alarm while you clean up

you come out and throw your ruined underwear and pajama bottoms on top of the heap

you then sit him down and explain what’s going on 

he’s embarrassed for having such a dramatic reaction to something that’s, apparently, very normal 

you tell him not to be embarrassed because it’s not his fault that he didn’t know 

you then say that if anyone should be embarrassed, it’s you 

he cups your face and stares into your eyes, a serious look on his face 

“Don’t ever apologize for something like that. You had no control over the situation. I’m not mad or disgusted. It’s perfectly natural. So, don’t worry your pretty little head,” he reassures softly before giving you a kiss 

after that, he takes over with cleaning up 

after getting news sheets and whatnot onto the bed, he bundles you up in it and gets whatever you want to make you feel better 

Diavolo:

he, surprisingly, already knows about human periods

when he sees your shock, he chuckles for a moment before explaining 

“Of course I know about periods, dear. I had to learn a lot about humans for this program. Now, c’mere. What do you need?” 

after getting over your shock, you explain that you’re cramping and want a heating pad, if possible 

he quickly reassures you that he’ll get his hands on one and to go lay down 

when he returns to you, he has more than a heating pad with him 

he’s brought snacks, medicine, movies, blankets, and new fuzzy pajamas 

you try to tell him that you’re afraid to ruin the pajama bottoms but he reassures you that if you ‘ruin’ them, he’ll get you ten more 

after coaxing you into the comfy clothes, he rolls you up in blankets and tucks you into bed by his side 

he feeds you whatever you want to eat and gives you medicine for cramps, headaches, and whatever else is hurting  

after taking said medicine, you start to get a little drowsy 

you last about halfway through Mulan before you pass out 

he curls up next to you and decides to take a nap himself once he knows you’re okay 

he makes sure to check on you when you wake up, offering to draw up a bath for you

he then surprises you by joining you in the bath 

it’s the most relaxed and pain-free you’ve ever felt while on your period 

MASTERLIST 

More with Obey Me!

[awhkacey]

hello, I am also in a period of depression like you and anxiety too so I will tell my story and I hope you can help me. Once upon a time there was a girl who was born 4 months early, the doctors thought it was a miracle but I was missing half of 2 fingers on my hands and feet. You know the kids, when you're different you're not accepted and that's what happened. My parents raised me as a boy, and so girls didn't want to be friends with me besides my fingers, so I learned to be alone and to be accepted in a group I always say yes to everything. if I know that people are making fun of me. I don't like school because of that and I repeated 2 times too because I had trouble living in this environment. Then arrived at the age of 12 I had my first period (without knowing what it was), you know the hair grows and all that stuff, and I wanted to be so perfect like in the pubs that I shaved every day then 2 years later my skin turned black and last year when we were swimming I wore a swimsuit and we could see the black part so someone took a picture to share it with the school and it has become a rumor until now. and i stank in my armpits too like i didn't know yet that the alcohol in deodorant made me get out smells that people can't stand and that was really the time when i felt dirty and i hated my body (d I still hate him so much) So my daily life boils down to seeing people make fun of me and make me understand that I'm disgusting and that I'm a whore, I don't have any friends and my parents don't understand the situation and do not try to help me, I developed fear of people, fear of eating in front of people. I tried a psychologist but my parents preferred to stop. I don't know how the law could help me , and idk why I continue to live with that situation but I really need your help please . CAN YOU respond me as fast as possible

hey, bby<3

i’m sorry to hear what you have been through. no one should go through that. i’m always here if you wanna talk. my inbox is always open.

and ofc i’ll try to help. i was in similar circumstance when it came to school, it was a horrible environment. and it made my depression go📉📉. But then i was able to manifest being homeschooled and with everything said before and being homeschooled really helped my mental health. So if that’s something that could help you and your mental health, i definitely recommend doing it.

Hmm and with everything else i think revision would be a good option. if you want me to tell you more about revision, let me knows. Revision is revising a situation to have it play out the way you desire. But i recommend taking your time, have a breather, and when you’re ready focus on your writing out everything about your life you hate. flip the piece of paper round and write ‘the new story’ of your life. Revise everything to pan out the way you desire,write everything you wished happened instead and believe it to be true. and when you get reminded of the old story. flip your thought and read out the new script. THE OLD STORY NEVER EXISTED!

Then, self concept. Change the names you call yourself and start loving your body. And start realising your power.

Instead of calling yourself disgusting call yourself beautiful, pretty, handsome, whatever you prefer.

instead of focusing on what you hate about your body, focus on what you love about yourself.

i’ll post some affirmations on self love, depression, and anxiety for you to repeat to yourself. i hope that helps.

if there’s anything else you want help with, my inbox is open x

remember: YOU ARE THE GOD OF YOUR REALITY, you get to decide what you do and don’t go through. and never forget you are a magnificent and stunning being. doubt doubt yourself, bby<3

[neighbourskid]

2020

What a year, huh? Surely not anything anyone has expected to happen when we woke up on this day a year ago. I certainly haven’t. I’m not even sure, now, where to begin to sum up this year like I’ve done years prior. But then again... I may just as well just dive right into all the media I consumed this year, as I have done every year. I haven’t kept track as detailed as I have last year, but my year was definitely punctuated by pieces of entertainment that have come into my life.

Continuing on from 2019, my obsession with Good Omens was still going strong. Which was ideal, since I was gonna spend the first half of the year writing my Bachelor thesis on it. The intensity of the obsession may have waned a bit since, but I still love that show and book dearly and hold it close to my heart, and I don’t think that will ever stop. But while Good Omens was certainly an overall theme throughout my year, there were some other things that actually stood out.

With January came new episodes of Doctor Who, and having returned to that particular bandwagon the year prior, I was all about that. Jodie’s second season finally brought what I had longed for in her first--a darker kind of Doctor. She wasn’t quite as bubbly anymore, you could finally see some of the depths in the character that I loved so in the previous regenerations, which made me love Peter’s Doctor so incredibly much. In this season, I felt, Jodie was finally becoming the Doctor. Overall, that season catered to me personally every single episode. So many of the time periods they visited were of people I loved, and the introduction of Sacha Dhawan as the Master was absolutely....well, masterful. Sacha is brilliant in that role and I am utterly stunned by his talent. Although both John Simm and Michelle Gomez brought things to the Master that I liked, it’s Sacha’s completely unhinged take on it that made me finally like the character. He’s a madman and I love it.

The next major thing was The Good Place. I tend to have a talent of getting into shows just as they either ended their entire show, or the final season is just coming up. It’s happened quite a bit, and it was the same with this. I finally binged the show early in January and it would end its final season at the end of the month. True to form, I was completely obsessed with it for about a month, before I only occasionally thought about it again. But, thinking back now, I get this incredibly fond feeling for this show, and I remember that the finale absolutely wrecked me and I basically ugly sobbed through the entirety of it. Also very true to form, actually. I want to rewatch it again some time, but honestly preferably with someone who has never seen it before. Which, obviously, is a difficult thing to do given, well, everything.

Next up is something that surprised me a lot. In the middle of having to write my BA thesis, my procrastination thought it would be a great idea to rewatch and catch up on the entirety of Criminal Minds. And so I binged 15 seasons of that instead of writing my thesis. Which, coincidentally, had also just aired its final season not long before I started my binge in March. Rewatching this, I realised just how little I took in of the actual, like, stuff in the show when I first watched it as a teen. Although I mostly cared about the characters and their found family this time around--although I do find the cases really fascinating most of the time too--I noticed just how much I am not watching this for the fact that they are in the FBI. I was hyperaware of how often they shot at people before doing anything else, how many of the suspects died before ever being questioned or being brought in, and it made my skin crawl. I am aware how fucked up the criminal justice system is, and especially in the US, how the police functions and how incredibly glorified they are in the media. But rewatching this show, I realised how little I actually paid attention to anything when I was younger. Big yikes. Still, I remembered my love for these characters, and I really enjoyed that rewatch a whole lot. Found family will always get to me.

Once I finished writing my thesis and handed it in early in July, I then found my next momentary obsession: Community. The show had finally come to Netflix earlier in the year and a friend of mine had watched it then. I remember watching that pilot episode back then and being completely uninterested in watching it. The comedy felt like it wasn’t quite up my street, the characters were entirely unlikeable, and I especially disliked Jeff who the show was more or less centred around. I binged Criminal Minds instead, but then decided to give it another try. And, well, I watched it twice through without taking a break to watch something else in-between. Ironically, and maybe actually unsurprisingly, Jeff ended up being my favourite and I found myself relating a lot to him and his arc throughout the series. I even found myself writing some short ficlet-like things in the notes app on my phone. I made an attempt at starting a third watch, but I guess then the month was up, and my brain decided it was time for something else. My hyperfixations usually tend to die out after about a month. Which is why my complete devotion to Good Omens was a pleasant surprise. I did, however, end up watching quite a bit of Joel McHale and Ken Jeong’s The Darkest Timeline podcast throughout August. 

Early in September, while already preparing for the new term at uni, and my first semester in my Master’s studies, I then turned to New Girl. Friends of mine had seen it and recommended it, and I remember watching probably the entire first season on TV while I was in San Diego the first time around back in 2016. Or at least I think it was the entire first season. Either way, I binged that whole thing, realised through Nick Miller that the go-to character I am drawn to and tend to project on in any piece of media is usually what I like to call “the garbage man,” which Nick is a prime example of. And although I spent a month watching the show in-between starting university again and volunteering at a film festival, I didn’t spend much time afterward thinking about it and moved on to other things rather quickly. I enjoyed watching it, that much I remember, and I’m pretty sure I cried at the finale because it was done wonderfully, but seeing as another month was up, my brain was probably like “okay fine that’s enough”.

I then spent most of fall and early winter watching every single bad Christmas movie available on Netflix, which was quite fun. In that moment of festivity, I also watched a movie I found absolutely brilliant and fell in love with immediately. It’s a beautiful movie called Jingle Jangle, it has a magnificent soundtrack and is absolutely incredible. I had no idea Forest Whitaker could sing and he completely blew me away. If you haven’t seen it already, I highly recommend it. It doesn’t matter that Christmas is already over, it’s beautiful either way.

By the time December finally rolled around, I was already over the whole Christmas thing, to be honest and I turned away from festive movies or shows, and eventually ended up finally picking up a gem I had heard much about and had been meaning to watch for a while. A show which, as it were, also aired its final season earlier this year. This little show is Schitt’s Creek. I will be going on about what this show means to me probably in another post at length, but for now just let me say: if you haven’t seen it, find some place to watch it, and put this beautiful show in your eyeballs. I am on my second run through already (although I’ve seen the second half of the show a second time already while watching it with a friend on their first run through), and it brings me so much fucking joy. It’s a gift, this show. And it will likely stay with me for a very, very long time.

That’s about it for the big things. I also watched a whole lot of other stuff, including entirely new things, or just newly released seasons of things I was already watching. Here’s what I can remember off the top of my head:

Charlie’s Angels (2020). The Night Manager. The Witcher. Dolittle (2020). The Librarians (rewatch). Harley Quinn (2020). Sonic the Hedgehog (2020). The Chef Show (S1 part 3, S2 part 1). Avenue 5. Money Heist (part 4). The Good Fight (S4). Brooklyn Nine-Nine (S7). DuckTales (2017 reboot). Frankenstein live. Staged (2020). Hamilton. Sense8. Julie and the Phantoms. The Boys in the Band. One Night in Miami. Enola Holmes. Supernova. His Dark Materials (S2). Happiest Season. The Great Canadian Baking Show.

I also got some reading done in-between what I had to read for my thesis in spring, and then for regular university courses in fall. Here’s some of what I can remember:

Anthony Horowitz, The House of Silk. Ramona Meisel, Sunblind. Donna Tartt, The Secret History. Good Omens novel and script book. Matt Forbeck, Leverage: The Con Job. Keith R.A. Decandido, Leverage: The Zoo Job. Greg Cox, Leverage: The Bestseller Job. Greg Cox, The Librarians and the Lost Lamp. Greg Cox, The Librarians and the Mother Goose Chase. Greg Cox, The Librarians and the Pot of Gold. Neil Gaiman, Marvel 1602. Christina Henry, The Lost Boy. Neil Gaiman, Norse Mythology. John Green, An Abundance of Katherines. Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Aurora Leigh. Maria Konnikova, The Confidence Game. 

Having mulled over all this entertainment I consumed in 2020, there are also some non-tv or book things I need to point out. As many, many other people around the globe, I have also spent a large amount of time this year on my Nintendo Switch, playing Animal Crossing: New Horizons. It is a game I have waited for since the Switch was first announced, and I fell in love with it from the moment the first trailer dropped. It has brought me great joy in this weird fucking year, and I have more or less consistently played it since it came out in March. I ended this year with the in-game New Year’s Eve celebration and I feel like that summed up this year quite neatly and appropriately.

This year also brought with it another game very close to my heart: Super Mario Sunshine. With their release of Super Mario 3D All-Stars in September, Nintendo finally brought my all-time favourite Mario game to my all-time favourite console, and I played the entire game through in the first week of owning it, in-between university courses and volunteering at the film festival. Also contained in that package was Super Mario Galaxy which I have also played through in its entirety since. All that’s left for me now is Super Mario 64, which I am excited to play through in the coming year.

And to round off my year of entertainment, there are two more things I would like to mention. First, David Tennant Does A Podcast With..., which released its second season this summer. It is one of the only, if not the only podcast I keep up to date with and listen to immediately whenever a new episode drops. I’ve loved the first season dearly, and David came back with some incredibly fantastic guests for the second season as well. I can’t wait for what the podcast will bring in the future, but I will wait patiently until it is time. I can highly recommend it for everyone who likes interesting conversations between lovely people who clearly adore each other a whole lot.

And finally, while this year brought a whole lot of bullshit with it, it also gave me something I never thought possible and did not even dare to imagine in my wildest dreams. My all-time favourite show announced that it would be rebooted with the same main cast (minus one), a new wonderful member, and involvement of the original creators, and even started filming already in summer. Leverage is coming back. I still cannot believe it. I hoped for a movie, always. That maybe one day, they might bring the gang back together, for one last job, just one more encore. But to get a whole new tv-show with Aldis, Christian, Gina and Beth returning? With the addition of Noah Wyle? I can’t wrap my head around it. I am so excited for this. I predict that I will ugly sob through the entirety of the pilot episode, if not the first season, and will have to rewatch every episode because of it, but I have no doubt that it will be brilliant and wonderful.

True to form, I have now gone on about tv shows and movies for far too long, and haven’t really said anything about this year at all. 2020 was fucking weird. And I don’t think 2021 will be much different quite yet. I wrote an entire BA thesis in 2020. I successfully finished by Bachelor’s degree and started my Master’s studies and even got some excellent first grades in as well. I was lucky enough to be able to see some friends and family throughout the year, and even celebrate my birthday with a small circle of friends. I’ve become closer with friends, shared experiences I wouldn’t trade for the world, and, I think, maybe also grown a bit as a person.

I started this year excited to finally be able to start taking testosterone in February, and to finish the first part of my studies by summer. Although I did both of these things, they didn’t happen quite how I imagined them, but I am glad that I could do these things nevertheless.

2020 was a hell year, for sure. But there were some moments in there that I wouldn’t want to lose.

I’ve tried very hard to not be optimistic about this upcoming year, and rather take a more realistic, even pessimistic approach. But I can’t help but be hopeful. Hopeful that this year will be kind to us, and if it isn’t, that at least, we’ll be kind to ourselves and each other. It won’t be easy, and not much will change, I think. But we have to approach the coming time with kindness and compassion. That’s where I’m at currently. And I think that’s all for now.

Be well, friends, and take care.

[charmingpplincardigans]

January Kitchen Sink Check In

This is mostly for me, because I’m trying to become a better person this year, for varying definitions of the term ‘better’, and I like to see my progress laid out all organized like. It helps me move forward. So I’m gonna go through my Body/Mind/Money goals for January and note how I did and what I’m going to do moving forward!

BODY

Working Out: 

My two work out goals for the end of the year are to 1) be doing yoga semi-regularly and 2) be working out four days a week reliably, including the yoga. I’m working on easing myself into these (and all) habits, because I don’t want to overwhelm myself and give up on everything, so my goal for January was to work out one day a week. And I worked out *drumroooooooll* NONE! NOT A ONCE. I don’t have an excuse for this. Part of it was stress, part of it was depression, part of it was sheer laziness. I promise myself I’m gonna work out at least once a week in February, but also shoot for the two times a week that is the February Goal. 

Food: 

I have several overall food goals for the year. One is to give up soda near completely, or at least to break my addiction to it. The others are to start planning meals and eat less meat. For January I wanted to drink only two sodas a day (20oz max). I managed that 23 days out of 31. In looking at the calendar you can reliably match the days I failed to the days that were extremely stressful or anxiety ridden. I have a very bad habit in those moments of throwing up my hands and deciding that I’m a failure anyway so nothing matters. That’s definitely a mental tick to keep an eye on over the next few months as my job no doubt just gets more and more stressful. The other goals I did okay with. I decided to plan one meatless meal a week. New recipes I made in January were: 

Black bean soup

Moroccan sweet potatoes

Spinach lasagna

Black bean & sweet potato enchiladas

Do recommend most of them. The lasagna had way too much cinnamon in it, which was kind of weird. If I make that recipe again I’m gonna quarter the amount. But I might just find a different veggie lasagna to make. 

For February I want to drop the soda to one a day (12oz max), and start to plan to make two meals a week. I’m doing okay with meat, but I could for sure do better. It helps that I have started making THE WORLD’S BEST SANDWICHES for lunch. Probably just gonna eat those forever instead of ordering out Huey Magoo’s or whatever. (The sandwich is hummus, cucumber, and feta on toasted Good Seed bread. Try it!)

Doctor Things:

Uff. I need to figure out the CPAP issues and the chest pain issues. I absolutely despised the first mask they sent me for the CPAP. It gave me panic episodes and I was ripping it off IN MY SLEEP. Insurance refused me a new mask until April, but my doctor came in like an angel with a sample version of a different type of mask to try. This one is...better. I’m still not comfortable in it and it’s not appreciably helping my sleep. People keep telling me it’s going to change my life, but that has not happened yet. On the other hand I have friends who’ve tried to make them work for YEARS and never did, so I’m wary of this whole process, but still trying. 

I had a sort of fraught meeting with my cardiologist last week. My chest pain symptoms had been getting better as of October, but with the change in my job I’ve back slid almost entirely. I had a 36 hour period of chest pain two weeks ago. I go whole nights having every heart attack symptom in slow motion, but doing nothing about it because I can’t afford for the ER to tell me I’m fine five times a month. I cried when she asked me why I didn’t go to a hospital when that happened. I feel so helpless all of the time and I’m certain I’m going to die any day now, even though my heart is technically physically fine. Can you anxiety yourself into a heart attack? I THINK YOU CAN. She did tell me to try to speak to the psychiatrist again about anxiety medication. The last time I tried the woman I saw didn’t want to prescribe me anything. She told me to work on my sleep and come back. Welp! The cardiologist said that if that happens this time she’ll write a note telling her to prescribe me something. We’ll see. I need to try to make that appt this month. 

MIND

Therapy:

My therapist thinks I’ve done really well over the last year with working on myself and said out loud that she thinks I’m better at dealing with some things and am in a good position to move forward. But I’m so stressed right now that I just feel like I’ve fallen apart again. We’re meant to start on EMDR this week, but I’m going to have to put a pause on it so I can talk about how I’m at like, the lowest point of my life, which she will be very supportive of and then probably remind me that if we could just get to the EMDR and work with the older traumas this might not feel so dire. I’m just, on the struggle bus and too tired to do anything but freak out about that. 

Writing: 

I have so may creative goals this year! Too many probably! I should put some back! My creative goals for the year are:

Complete a rough draft of AMLD (10,000 words a month)

Complete and mail out the Girls Who Date the Universe chapbook

Complete and mail out any remaining art for people who helped me with the car fund

Work on poetry and short fictions (Monster Story?)

Actually check in to @gywo every month (10 days a month goal)

My creative goals for January were to write 10,000 words on AMLD, work on the extra poems for GWDTU, and send the remaining postcards from the car fund. And uh...look. I did work on writing. I worked on the chapbook layout and editing pieces that needed to be edited/replaced, because there are several. I did also work on the outline for AMLD, but didn’t write new words on it. Not anywhere 10,000 of them at any rate. 

The owing people art thing is just...it fucks me up, man. I have learned a huge lesson between the car fund and the patreon. I get so in my head about how these people deserve beautiful things and then I tell myself I’m not capable of making things worthy of them and then I put off doing the thing because I want to put off letting them down and then it just spirals from there. ALL THE WHILE I AM FOR SURE LETTING THEM DOWN. I realize this is both unhealthy and unprofessional. It’s why one of my goals this year is to clear all of this once and for all so that I can square myself away with everyone and try not to end up here in the future. 

So, the January Goals now get rolled up into the February Goals, which leaves the new list for the month at: 

10,000 words AMLD

Complete extra poems for GWDTU

Send postcards from car fund

Complete layout for Boston chapbook for car fund

I did check in for GYWO. 

Future Plans:

Part of letting off the pressure for the now for me is always about planning for the future. Not like, the actual future, I’m not starting a 401k, let’s not go nuts. But for something that is one step forward. In my notes for my year goals this is all about moving back to Boston. I need to set a date for it. I need to save money for it. I need to keep my job until after I’ve done it. But now I think this part needs to include notes about my job itself and the ways I can either move forward with it or move away from it once and for all. 

I talked to Lisa and Kait at the beginning of the year about the moving plan, and now I just need to talk to my apartment complex to see if it would be feasible to extend the lease to December or February without paying an exorbitant amount in rent each month. If rent ends up being more than $2k/mo for the extension then I’m just going to have to have to wait until June 2022. This frustrates me, because I hate not being able to just follow through with decisions once I’ve made them, but patience is another thing I’m working on eternally. My goal for February is figure out money stuff well enough and talk to complex and set a timeline. 

Work is. Wow. It’s awful right now. I still have my job, which takes up much of my days, but because of re-org I’m also having to learn a whole new job which would also take up much of my day. I can’t not learn this job, because the person who used to do it is in another department now too, so there’s no one to get the work done if I don’t learn to do it. But I also can’t do both. I CAN’T DO BOTH. An issue popped up last week with my job that literally brought my ulcer back. I asked my boss for help with it and she sent me a message at one point saying she wanted to cry about it. So like. She knows now, right? She knows I can’t do both jobs?? BUT THERE’S NO ONE ELSE TO DO IT SO I GUESS I JUST GET TO SLOWLY KILL MYSELF. I’m just so frustrated, and angry that these decisions get made without taking the people in them into account, and of course anxious and miserable. I’m currently dreading work in a way I haven’t since I was in text perms. It’s real bad. So I have to find a way to make it work or find a way out. 

My February approach to that is to finish this Love It or Leave It book and see if I can’t divine where my true motivation lies, and also to research library school. I kind of would rather not go back to school. Not because I wouldn’t spend my entirely life in school if I could. I WOULD. But because it’s expensive and time intensive and there’s no promise my life will be better after it’s over. But every job I think I want pretty much requires that masters, so. We’ll look into it at least. 

MONEY

Eating Out:

During the pandemic, one of my money sinks became DoorDash. I never used it before, because it costs literally twice as much as just going to get the food. (Also because I kind of like eating in restaurants alone. Ah, one day again I hope!) But the more afraid I became of the outside world, the less inclined I was to go into a restaurant to pick up take out, so I’ve had it brought to me. And I need to cut that shit out! I have food at home! My goal for January was to order out only 4 times a week. I managed this for three of the weeks, but when I blew it it was definitely those weeks at the very beginning and very end of the month where I was super stressed. The goal in February is to only order out 3 times a month.

Savings:

I need to open a high yield savings account. I’ve had the starting money for the move just sitting in my bank account making me no extra money for like, four months. The latest reason I haven’t moved it over is that I’m worried I’m going to owe a lot in taxes this year because of the partial unemployment I got. Hopes are that since it was a work share the taxes were taken out ahead of time, but I do not trust the government with my money as far as I can throw them, so. I’ll do my taxes this month and finally know for sure. And then I WILL move the rest of the money into a high yield savings account. I WILL. 

Also, every time my credit union savings hits a grand, I’ll move $500 of that over into the high yield account to put toward moving expenses. 

Budget:

I keep meaning to sit down and work out my new budget for 2021. I’m bringing home a little bit less in my paycheck because I changed my health insurance, and I’m also, of course, trying to save as much as I can ahead of moving so I don’t put anything on credit cards. (I’m doing so well paying those down!) This means I need to save everything I can and not spend money on stupid frivolous stuff. I’m not buying clothing like I did in the before times, but I AM spending too much money at Target still, because the app lets me just peruse any dumb idea I have and then pick it up that day! What a disaster! So, I really need to work something out. Or at least, I need to check my bank accounts more often and keep tabs on how much is actually going out. I have a bad out-of-sight-out-of-mind habit when it comes to bank accounts. Just another piece of me to try to cure this year.

And that’s it for January. I’m now late to bed because I’ve been working on this post for an hour and a half. Working on my sleep is also a goal, but we’ll see how exercise and the cpap handle that. Til next month!

[a-student-out-of-time]

Connections Review Part 1

Happy 2021 everyone! Well…the year’s off to a terrible start due to how bad last year was but I hope that most of 2021 will be good and not be 2020 Part 2: Electric Boogaloo. But enough of that, another arc ended, another review due. Now I am quite conscious of length here and I’ll try to make these reviews a bit easier to read, it will still be split into 3 parts as there I can cover the main themes which are; Time Travel, Harems and Maverick ‘Motherfucker Hellspawn’ Storm. My initial plan was to have a quick lightening recap of everything that doesn’t fit into these categories and then review the Time Travelling and Harems but Storm became so big he needed his own part. Oh, and it should go without saying, but I will not cover the Mistletoe Asks. They are not relevant to the arc and are basically shipping fluff. No in-depth analysis required there. And with that said and done, let’s get right into it.

Its Recap time

So, as I mentioned before we get into the 3 big themes of this arc, I’ll cover really quick, and I promise it will be really quick here, anything that doesn’t fit into those categories. So firstly, we see that Kazuichi went around the Void Warehouse and helped fix their lights. Now that all of Class 77-B are aware of Void’s existence, they can help out with any problems they might have in their living quarters, which leads to a funny scene of Kazuichi getting attacked by a crow. This could be random but given what has happened with another seemly random event (more on that later) and the fact that Monocrow exists, this could be sinister foreshadowing for things yet to come. We also see Kazuichi getting ideas to build a robot with Chihiro as that’s his way of romance. Given Chihiro’s crossdressing tendencies, I wonder when the truth comes out and how confused our shark boy would be. But yeah, Kazuichi out all of the new Class 77-B members seems to have the most focus in this arc, not that I’m complaining as he was the most ‘pointless’ survivor from DR2 so him getting actual character development and focus I’m more then welcome for! There’s also Yoruko rekindling her relationship with her mentor Minako. This went better than expected then again it happened years ago, both Yoruko and Minako had time to reflect on it and both wanted to make up, but thought the other wouldn’t accept it. We also see some parallels here with Hiroko from UDG as Kizuna is revealed to be the result of a teenage pregnancy. As I mentioned in an ask, not to bog you down with personal details but teenage pregnancy is a serious problem where I live and too many people I know fucked as teens, didn’t use protection, and boom! Babies! Good thing I have a passion for Danganronpa so I DON’T get wrapped up in that kind of stuff eh? So, I completely understand Minako’s rational here, and Kizuna’s more troublesome behaviour as one of my RL friends was also the result of a teen pregnancy, and this led to her having…issues. And yeah, Kizuna shamelessly flirts with the Anons and talks about Josuke, no not THAT Josuke, simping hard for her. Naturally we have bigger problems to content with but once the weather calms down, we need to sort out Kizuna, especially now that Yoruko and Minako have made up. And that’s the two things that happened which weren’t relevant to the main themes. Now they are out of the way, time to move onto Wibbly Wobbly Timey Wimey Stuff. Hey, Emma made a Doctor Who joke already, so it’s okay!

Back to the Visions

Despite Time Travel being one of the main themes of this blog, not a lot of research has gone into it at the moment, so in this wind down time, it’s the perfect time for Umeko to do some experiments into time travel. Last Arc dropped the reveal that Mikako has being getting dreams of the future, and as Koroko and Umeko pull up at the Kisurugi household, we see that Mikako just had a dream of the Tragedy, which understandably horrified her. Because of this Umeko and Koroko were forced to tell Mikako, Yamato and his father the truth about the future. They omitted Kasugano and him changing the timelines as its not needed but well…when one dreams of an apocalyptic future you know is coming, there’s no sense in lying about it. Umeko then explains about the time travel and basically that since the brain surgery, Mikako’s brain has become a tachyon receiver that can pick up tachyon from different timelines, not just the one you are on. But it goes beyond being able to see the future via her dreams as if Mikako focuses, and someone touches Mikako during this time, they are hit with a vision of the future that involves them. The first vision was with Koroko and she caught a glimpse into a future much more distant then the 2017 that Hajime, Yoruko, Sora and the other 2 time travellers came from, as it seems to be from the Year 2020-2022 so pretty close to our time then. Here Koroko and Kanata, who not only went through a growth spurt like Hiyoko (Poor Hibiki, she is forever going to be the short one) and has married Nagito, are giving vaccinations to a young girl named Sayuri Hinata. Sayuri herself is very familiar to some people as during the last Arc when Akane was trying to comfort Nikei, one Anon asked about a timeline where she and Ayame had a child. This was a reference to Nextgenronpa which is a Nextgen AU on Instagram created by Mikwithnoando, if you happen to have an Instagram account, I highly recommend reading it, it’s really good! The character in question is called Sayuri Otonokoji the Ultimate Sculptor and in Nextgenronpa she’s the child of Hibiki and Iroha. Koroko looking through her medical records noticed her mother’s name is Hibiki Hinata so Hibiki obviously changed her last name, makes sense as she wants to probably be as far away from Otonokoji as possible now but no mention of the father and yes Sayuri looks a lot like Iroha. This has a few possibilities.

The first theory is that Sayuri is Hibiki and Hajime’s child, but both are very busy. Hibiki would have very likely restarted her musical career around this time and we don’t know what Hajime would be doing but he would be very busy as well, and thus not a lot of time to raise Sayuri. Now Iroha would have a very sedimentary lifestyle and given she is looking after Jataro at the moment, this would probably make Iroha one of the more experienced caretakers/mothers of the cast, so maybe Sayuri was often babysat by Iroha, and if Sayuri was spending a lot of time with Iroha at a young age, she would start to view Iroha as a second mother and start copying her behaviour and mannerisms. But that doesn’t evade the fact that Sayuri PHYSICALLY looks like Iroha as well. The second theory is something happens to Hibiki or Hajime and they are unable to reproduce but want kids. With Kyoji, making kids would not be an issue, but a surrogate mother would be required and maybe Iroha volunteered to be a surrogate. However, the big issue there is that Iroha is much younger than the Goodbye Despair cast, and as Mikan later points out legally, you need to be 21 to be eligible. Sayuri looking to be 8-10 years old means Hibiki and Hajime must have banged around now-2014 and Iroha won’t turn 21 until 2017 and Sayuri looks way older than 3-5 years old. But there is one more theory and the one I believe in. Just because Mikako can see the future, doesn’t mean it’s the timeline we are currently on, and you guys remember that awful, awful period during Oncoming Storm when Iroha was crushing on Hajime and wanted to join the Cuddle Puddle despite there being a significant age gap between him and Iroha? In our timeline, Yoruko was able to slap some sense into Hajime, he was able to see he was developing a Saviour’s complex and was able to grow and develop, and it also system shocked Iroha as well as she learnt that she needed to grow up as well. But what if that didn’t happen? I think that timeline is from one when the sense slapping didn’t happen and Iroha did wind up being part of the Cuddle Puddle, and Sayuri was the result of science from Kyoji and Iroha and Hibiki wanting kids. In addition to this we also see Kotoko in her teen years and she looks brilliant all grown up and the way she talked about ‘our mothers’ and Sayuri referring to Kotoko as a big sister, makes one believe that Mikan is successful in adopting Kotoko. Overall, while Sayuri is going to be a headache to decode, that future was nice and sweet, even if it gave Mikako mild seizures.

After Mikako recovered, Yamato wanted to see the future as well, and thus we get the second vision which is from the OG Timeline in 2014, as it shows some Class 79 tomfoolery with Haruhiko ‘testing’ Yamato’s jetpack and crashing into a tree, and Teruya being concerned for his bro. I know its 2014 because Class 79 was formed then and they didn’t bond for long before Utsuro showed up with an army of Monokumas and was like ‘Knock knock, it’s the upupupu train’ and we get the Proto Killing Game. At least Yamato gets to see his future friends for the first time. And Mikako doesn’t get that much of a headache this time so it seems that the further in time she looks, the bigger the side effects. The first vision was a decade into the future so the side effects were quite big but the second one was only a couple of years so the effects were reduced.  It remains uncertain if Mikako has to trust the person in question for the vision link to be done because as much of a force of good this seer ability is, it can also be used for evil. Overall, lots of discoveries on Mikako’s abilities and some hope that not every future out there is filled with despair and there exists a timeline where the Quantum Crew do win. Now it’s a case of seeing if that’s the timeline they are on or not.

That summarizes part 1 with the recapping of minor details and the time travelling science! It’s a longer part then I wanted but with the recap at the beginning it cannot be helped. When we come back, I’ll talk about the Harems and the events surrounding them and hopefully that would be the new length I wish to aim for because this is more of my old length. Stay tuned people! - Review Anon

[justheretobreakthings]

Welcome to the Family - Chapter 8

(Previous Chapter)

Word Count: 3,089 (Total Word Count: 20,507) Read on AO3

Story Summary: Lance had been excited about his family taking in a foster kid, eager to get to meet his brand new little brother or sister, who would surely adore and idolize their super cool Big Brother Lance. What he got instead was a sullen, quiet, temperamental teenage housemate with a criminal record and a disastrous haircut.

It was a tough adjustment, going back to school for the first time in over a year. Kolivan had warned him about that after he had first been released, that it may be difficult for him to be back in a regular school setting, but there wasn’t exactly much to be done about it. There wasn’t very well any way to practice being back at school in the two weeks between his release and the start of the new school year, so the best Kolivan could do was recommend that he go to the school counselor if he had any trouble.

Which Keith was in no hurry to do. Back at the detention facility, they’d mandated he see a counselor too. Everyone had to, and as far as Keith could tell, it hadn’t done any good for any of the kids there. The counselor he’d seen had been constantly dismissive, writing off any trouble he was having with the other juveniles as him simply losing his temper, and telling Keith that he was exaggerating the problems in his past due to his ‘negative life outlook’ and needed to simply look on the positive side of things more.

Of course, that counselor also didn’t use the title of ‘doctor’, and had yelled at Keith when the latter had first asked about his credentials, so maybe he wasn’t exactly the best example of a counselor. But it left Keith on his guard.

If you assume out the gate that all counselors were underqualified and disparaging, you won’t be disappointed when it turns out to be the case. A lesson he had learned long ago and applied to caseworkers, and classmates, and homes. They weren’t all bad, but the ones that were…

It was a tough adjustment.

Still, as patronizing as that counselor’s advice had been, he tried his best to focus on the positives, listing them in his head throughout the day as he came up with them.

He had his own locker. That was nice. Privacy was always hard to come by, whether he was with a foster family or a group home or back in juvie, so every little bit was a relief.

The teachers actually seemed to give a shit about their subjects, which had not been at all the case for him last year. He was pretty sure that the tutors’ credentials had been even less valid than the counselor’s, and none of the other boys at the center had actually cared about learning anyway - or if they did, they had the sense to keep it to themselves - so the tutors were pretty quick to give up anyway. So that was a nice change.

The place as a whole seemed generally well-kept. No obvious damage like broken windows or exposed wires, and they had those modern drinking fountains with the bottle-filling stations built in. When Keith went to the bathroom after lunch, there was some graffiti in the stall, but it was just the ‘Here I sit brokenhearted’ poem in Sharpie. Pretty innocuous.

And he’d had a place to sit at lunch, which was a major step up from some past foster homes where he’d either been the only kid, or the other kids in the house wanted nothing to do with him. Of course, there had still been some weirdness there. While Hunk had seemed nice and Pidge’s sarcasm hadn’t seemed malicious and Lance did seem concerned about whether or not he ate, it was hard to say how genuine it was or how long it would last. After all, he’d messed up. He’d accidentally insulted Tania, and it had upset Lance, and he hadn’t missed how much all three of the others had stared at him throughout the meal, even if they tried to hide it.

He didn’t like being stared at. He didn’t like it when people were curious, when they tried to dig into him and his life.

Being back in a crowded school made that harder to avoid, which was one of the negatives that he tried not to focus on but couldn’t help but let intrude his mind whenever he got the inkling that there were eyes on him. Which, admittedly, happened a hell of a lot, more than was probably realistic.

The counselor had called him paranoid, but he was sometimes right, and if he was sometimes right, then it wasn’t paranoia, it was just caution. There was nothing wrong with caution. Sure, maybe the times he caught people staring in his direction, they weren’t actually looking at him, and maybe when people whispered nearby or muffled a laugh as they passed him, they weren’t discussing him. But maybe they were. And Keith never knew how to handle that.

It’s not as though there wasn’t plenty of reason for him to be stared at or gossiped about. He reeked of not belonging, and he knew it. He was very obviously the ‘new guy’, not knowing any names or where anything was and three times so far he’d had to ask for directions, a task that had no business being as anxiety-inducing as it was. He’d had Algebra 1 for fourth period, and he was pretty sure he was the only sophomore in a class otherwise full of freshman, which he knew was going to be the case in Spanish 1 tomorrow as well, and no doubt his classmates would have questions about that. And, of course, there was his scar. He supposed he couldn’t blame people for staring at that, but that didn’t mean he had to like it or stop glowering at other students when he caught them at it.

Point was, though, he made it. He made it through the day without any big problems. No one was outright antagonistic to him, nothing the teachers assigned seemed beyond his ability. Sure, there were still a hundred and seventy-nine days left in the school year to ruin that, but at least he was starting off on the right foot. Or, a neutral foot. Whatever.

His last class of the day was P.E., and he was one of the first in the class to leave the locker room at the end of class. Since it was the final period, some of the boys opted not to shower afterward, which was a relief to Keith, as it made the fact that he wasn’t doing so stand out less. You only needed to get your clothes stolen from the gym locker one time in middle school before you took steps to ensure that it never happened again, so he had no problem waiting until he got back to the McClains’ house to clean up.

He had ducked into a bathroom stall to change out of his gym uniform - he would have to ask Lance what the weird cartoon clipart of a knight on the tee shirt was all about - and fortunately it didn’t seem like anyone had paid him enough attention to notice and given him any shit about his excessive modesty, so he was able to slip out of the locker room a minute before the final bell, an extra minute that he definitely needed to find his way back to the sophomore lockers.

After he gathered his things, he headed out to the parking lot to wait next to Rachel’s car, although it was at least another twenty minutes more before he spotted her and Lance leaving the school building. He lifted a hand to wave at them from where he sat perched on the car’s hood, but slowly lowered it again as he noticed the annoyed look on Lance’s face.

“That’s where he was,” Lance said loudly once they were in earshot. “Damn it, we were looking all over for you.”

“What?” said Keith. “Why?”

“Because you weren’t at the entrance,” said Lance. “We waited for you. Rachel was starting to worry you ditched school or something. How come you didn’t meet us there?”

“I… didn’t know I was supposed to?” Keith said, raising a brow. “What entrance?”

“The music wing entrance,” Rachel said. She reached the front door and pulled it open, hitting the button on the inside to unlock the rest of the car. “We always meet there at the end of the day. Didn’t Lance tell you that?”

“No.”

“Hey, what?” Lance said as he slid into his own seat. “Why was that my job? You’re the driver, you were supposed to coordinate everything!”

“...Oh.” Rachel frowned. “Okay, fair, guess this one’s on me. Sorry, Keith.”

“S’okay,” Keith mumbled. He clambered into the passenger seat as Rachel turned the ignition, and leaned in toward the fan as the air-conditioning kicked on.

“From now on, we don’t count on Rachel for anything,” said Lance.

“Fine,” Rachel said. “Good luck getting home from school without me.”

“From now on, we count on Rachel for only one thing.”

“There we go.” Rachel nodded. “Anyway, right, from now on, just meet at the music wing, okay? The front entrance has a sign pointing to the auditorium, so if you go there, it’s just down the hall on the right, and you’re there.”

“Got it,” Keith said.

“We woulda texted you,” said Lance, “But you didn’t give us your number.”

“I don’t have a phone,” said Keith.

“What? Why not?”

Keith turned around to scowl at Lance, and the latter was quick to deflate. “Oh, sorry, was that offensive? Somehow?”

“I just don’t have one,” Keith snapped.

“Talk to Mamá about that,” said Rachel. “I just upgraded a few months ago, she’ll probably let you have my old one, and Luis is off the family plan now so we can add another number.”

“All right,” Keith said. “Um, thanks?”

“Don’t mention it. Not like I’m using it anyw- Lance, don’t you dare take your shoes off in my car!”

Lance looked up, his feet already up on the seat next to him and one shoe off, holding the laces of the other. “Oh, come on, it’s a thousand degrees outside, my feet are hot!”

“No, you are not stinking up my car with your weird foot odors. Wait ‘til we get home.”

“First of all, your car stinks anyway, and second of all, my feet are beautiful and your car should be honored to smell like them.”

“If your feet are so great you wouldn’t need to spend an hour every day rubbing all those creams and oils and stuff on them.”

“Um, it’s called self-care.”

Deciding that the sibling bickering was probably going to go on for the rest of the ride home, Keith leaned toward the dashboard and adjusted the fans to blow directly into his face, closing his eyes and letting the sound of the blowing air conditioning drown out everything else. At first he was a little worried that the fans might spread the smell of the sweat left over from gym class throughout the car, but neither Lance nor Rachel made any comment about it - the smell of Lance’s feet was the only one they seemed focused on - so he was able to relax up until they pulled up to the McClains’ house, coming to a forceful and crooked stop on the curb.

The other two tossed their backpacks onto a chair in their den and shouted greetings to their mother as they entered the house, while Keith kept quiet and kept his bag with him until he’d gotten upstairs and dropped it into his desk chair. Lance had first dibs on the bathroom, so Keith waited on his bed for his turn to grab a shower. When that turn finally came, he turned the water up to near scalding and took a few minutes to just stand and soak. It hadn’t been a bad day, nothing big had happened, but he was still exhausted. Being around so many people for eight hours straight had drained him.

It took a long while and a mental reminder that the others in the house would probably be pissed if he went and used up the hot water for him to finally pick up his bottle - a single, all-in-one shampoo-conditioner-body wash that he’d picked out from the store and that was conspicuously dull among the dozen bottles of brightly colored and sweetly scented who-knows-what that Lance had arranged on the rim of the tub for himself - and start washing up. Once finished, he towel dried thoroughly and got fully dressed again before finally stepping out of the bathroom, letting the steam waft into the hallway behind him.

By this point he was starting to get hungry, the awkward school lunch long behind him, so he started down the stairs, hoping to find something in the kitchen to sneak back up with him before dinner. The den was empty, and the muted sound of Rachel’s trumpet indicated she was practicing in the basement, so the coast seemed clear until he reached the bottom of the stairs and caught the voices of Lance and Tania in the kitchen. Keith hesitated, hand on the banister, deciding to wait it out.

“It’ll just be the morning meeting tomorrow for this week,” Lance was saying. “But starting on Monday we’re back to three morning practices a week, and I think we’ll start on the afternoon practices again in October, so you’re gonna need to tell Rachel she has to drive me.”

“Lance, we can’t base Rachel’s whole sleep schedule on your swim practices,” Tania replied. “I’ll drive you when I can, and we really need to arrange a carpool for you this year. Your friend Nadia doesn’t live too far from here, right?”

“Yeah, but her dad listens to country music in the car. It’s torture.”

“Too bad, mijo, it’s either find a carpool or skip some practices.”

“Fine. I’ll ask her. Oh, and I still need the money for the new trunks this year. My old ones are getting tight as hell.”

“Language.”

“Sorry, tight as heck. Anyway, I need a check for them.”

“All right.” Keith heard the sound of a drawer opening and papers rifling.

“And for a team jacket,” Lance added.

“Ah, ah, no,” said Tania, “I told you already, you want one of those jackets, you pay for it yourself.”

“But Mamá, it’s school spirit!”

“It’s fifty-dollar school spirit and I’m not paying for it. You want extra money, you do some extra help on the farm or you wait ‘til Christmas. For now, how much for the trunks?”

“Twenty.” There was quiet in the kitchen for a few seconds, then the sound of tearing paper. “Thanks,” said Lance.

“Don’t you lose that check, now,” said Tania. “Put it in your backpack before you forget.”

“I will.” A cabinet opened and a couple of dishes clattered against the countertop before Lance cleared his throat. “Hey, uh,” he said. “Speaking of checks, uh…”

“Mm?” Tania hummed.

“Something kinda weird happened at lunch today.”

Keith tensed, his grip tightening against the staircase’s banister.

“How do you mean?”

“With Keith. He tried to skip lunch, said he was saving for when he ‘needed’ it.”

“What does that - ?”

“Well, apparently he thought that the check you gave him for lunch was supposed to cover the whole school year. He was trying to ration it out.”

There was a pause before Tania softly muttered, “Oh querido…”

“Did he, like, act weird at all when you wrote out the check? Or did you say something that he thought meant - ”

“No, no, I think it was just - ” Her sigh was nearly drowned out by a cutlery drawer opening and closing. “Don’t worry over it, cariño, I’ll talk to him.”

“Yeah, but what are you gonna say? Do you know what that was about?”

“Never you mind, Lance, I’ll take care of it.”

“But why did he think - ?”

Finally, Keith had heard enough, and he stepped out into the dining room, ensuring that his footfall was loud enough to get their attention. It worked, as both Tania and Lance looked up at his entrance. Lance quickly looked away again, face sheepish, but Tania plastered a smile onto her face and gestured for him to come into the kitchen. “Keith, dear, good to see you!” she said brightly. “How was your first day?”

“Fine,” Keith said.

“The school seem like it could be a good fit for you? Do we need to make any changes to your classes at all?”

“They’re fine.”

“You’re okay with having Rachel drive you? Her driving didn’t scare you too badly?”

“No, it’s fine.”

“How are your classmates? Met any nice people? Make any new friends?”

“I - I just came in to get a snack…”

“Oh! Right, right.” Tania ran a flustered hand through her hair and turned back to the counter. “Well, I’m actually going to start making dinner here, so if you don’t mind waiting a little longer, there’ll be plenty to eat soon.”

“Oh,” said Keith. “Sorry, I didn’t know.”

“No, no, don’t be sorry!” Tania said. “It’s fine, it’s perfectly fine. Would you like to help with dinner, sweetie? I could use a hand peeling potatoes if you’re up for it. Have you used a potato peeler before, Keith?”

“Um, yeah. Sure, I can - I can help,” Keith said.

He shuffled toward the counter. Lance leaned in to whisper something to Tania that he didn’t catch, and she shook her head and waved him away in response. Lance pouted as he stepped away. “Well, uh, I’ll get outta your way, then,” he said.

“You sure you don’t wanna help too, mijo?” said Tania.

“I’m on dish duty tonight, Mamá, you can’t make me do double chores. I’ll strike.”

Tania picked up a dish towel and lightly swatted Lance on the shoulder with it. “If you’re not gonna work in the kitchen, you can’t stand around in the kitchen. Get.”

“All right, all right,” Lance said, turning and walking out toward the dining room. Before he left fully, he glanced over his shoulder toward Tania and said, “¿Me lo dirán luego?”

“No, Lance,” Tania snapped. Lance muttered something under his breath and left as Tania slid a bag of potatoes across the counter and handed Keith a peeler. “We should only need around eight,” she said. “I’ll start on the chicken, and you just let me know if you need anything, okay dear?”

“Okay,” Keith said with a nod. She turned her attention away, and Keith glanced hesitantly back toward the sound of Lance’s retreating footsteps before he shook his head clear, rolled his shoulders, and got to work.

[ilovemyschool]

Teaching through COVID???

Bless you if you actually make it to the end of this post, lol.

I teach high school science- specifically Chemistry and AP Chemistry.  I absolutely love teaching and I love my students.  I especially enjoy getting to talk to them about what they want to do when they graduate, where they want to go to college, what kind of jobs they want to do, and all of that fun stuff.  Finishing high school is an incredibly exciting time in life for a person, and I feel privileged to get to re-live the excitement and apprehension and hopefulness and all the other feelings that come along with having so many possibilities for your life laid out in front of you.  I don’t know any other kind of work that allows you to feel those feelings year after year like I get to through my students.  I also try to support them through the hard stuff.  I listen when they cry and tell me that they feel alone in a room full of people, I hug them (if they want a hug) when they tell me their mom moved out over the weekend, and I feed them and get them additional support when they tell me they are hungry and don’t have enough to eat.  I spend hours on tutoring, grading, and lesson planning outside of my “contract hours.”  It never bothered me because I knew I was doing something that mattered to my kids.  If you’ve never gotten to see a kid gain self-confidence in their own ability by practicing with you one-on-one- let me just tell you it’s magical.  When they know you’ll sit down and work with them again and again when it’s still tough for them, they can see that you believe they’re worth the time and effort, and they start to believe it too.  When you get a note from a student about how they never thought they’d be able to understand chemistry so well, but aced a state final exam or got a 4 or 5 on the AP exam, it feels like you’ve done more than teach them your subject- you’ve taught them to believe they can do hard things.  

I’m sick to my stomach right now, because I am so torn on whether to go back this year.  My students are set to come back in two weeks.  There are so many things going through my head and this has been whirling around for the past two weeks, so I’m writing it out.  To quit or not to quit.  That is my question.

To Quit:

*My district notified parents of the plan just two weeks ago at the same time as the teachers- teachers actually just got a quick email that said something to the effect of “oh hey- check out this stuff we’re sending to parents about next school year.”  

*Since they released their plan, I got in to see a doctor.  I have an autoimmune condition.  It’s not a big deal in general, just a pill everyday, but it does affect my risk- although in the grand scheme of immuno-issues, thankfully mine is on the low end of the COVID risk spectrum.

*The district’s plan is for all students to go back to school 5 days/week, unless they opt for the virtual option.  The hours will be shortened so that the district doesn’t have to do a deep clean at the 4 hour mark as would be required if we were in school for the usual 7 hours.  Instead, teachers will all teach 4 class periods and also have to teach an online class.  If you’ve never taught, teaching online is a whole separate thing, so even if you teach chem both online and in person, it’s likely that most of the time you’ll have to set up your lessons completely differently for the two.  It’s not a deal breaker, but it’s extra work for sure.

*Teachers are responsible for sanitizing the classrooms between classes, which means we’ll have to pee some other time, although every teacher is teaching all 4 classes, so we won’t have anyone available to cover us?  I guess they’ll figure that out?

*According to the FAQ document our principal sent out, if we are told to quarantine or isolate, we have to use our sick days.  If we go through our sick days or run out we can apply to the sick day bank.  They don’t say it in the FAQ, but once you’ve used up days, they dock your pay.  

*However, that might not actually be a problem, because in a virtual staff meeting they held on Friday, the assistant superintendent shared that the health department here is now defining “exposure” as 15 minutes or more within 6 feet of a person who has tested positive without a mask.  That means that we could be in the classroom with kids who later test positive for COVID for an hour and neither the teacher nor the parents of the other kids in that class would be notified or asked to isolate because we were all wearing masks and therefore were “not exposed.”

*Since all kids are going back at the same time, thats nearly 1800 kids (minus the ones who signed up to take all their classes virtually).  Based on early estimates, less than 20% are going to opt to go online.  There are no plans to stagger class changes, which means our hallways will be full- it will not be possible for students to social distance.

*Currently, I have a class with 33 students in one of my face-to-face classes.  That’s a fairly big class anyway, but in COVID, they’ll be packed in there.  It is not possible to keep that many kids 6 feet apart in my classroom.

*We are relying on parents to do temperature checks every day and keep their child home if their temp is 100.4 or above.  If you’ve ever taught, you know that while most parents are responsible with things like this, there are some that will send their child in no matter what because they have to work or (in some very sad situations) want the time to themselves.

*In our state’s official COVID school plans, they outlined “Required,” “Strongly Recommended,” and “Recommended” measures.  My district seems to be reading “Strongly Recommended” as “Not Required.”  This means that they are okay with us running labs, sharing equipment, and working in close proximity because they think that parents understand that if they’re sending their child to school, that they know their child will be in close proximity to others.  They say that parents know that their kids will be 2/bus seat anyway and that they’re going to have to be changing classes in a full hallway.  I’m not so sure I agree with that.  I think parents are probably very unaware of that because I think it would be reasonable for parents to think that the “Strongly Recommended” guidelines would be implemented.  I’m not a parent, but I think that I would assume that?  Unfortunately, things like 6 feet of separation, doing on-site temperature checks, and not sharing materials are in the “Strongly Recommended” category, which means the district will “do their best.”

*Our district’s Union President wrote a letter to the board on our behalf regarding the strongly recommended guidelines.  The superintendent was dismissive of those concerns, stating that schools in other countries saw negligible spread upon reopening, which is like comparing our shitty COVID apples to European oranges.  Shortly after his response, two other board members went on to praise the administration for putting together a “safe” plan and quickly approved it to send on to the department of education.  I wish that those board members would come and sit in our classrooms for the first few weeks of school.

*We won’t know which class(es) we’ll be teaching online until the week before (best case scenario), so we can’t prepare very much that is specific to our class until the week before school.  We won’t know our final schedule in general until next week.  To not know this with only a week and a half to go is insane.  My anxiety is in full gear.

*Financially, we could handle it if I don’t work.  

Not to Quit:

*I have one student who had me for a science class his freshman year, then requested to take my chemistry class during his sophomore year, and is signed up for AP Chem this year.  I don’t want to miss it.

*Lots of my former chem kids are signed up for my AP Chem class this year.  I’m newer to the school, but I’ve been really working on growing the AP Chem program.  We even had enough students sign up to make 2 sections of AP Chem this year, which hasn’t happened in a long time at this school.

*I don’t want to quit with only 2 weeks before school- granted, they just announced the district plans 2 weeks ago and in that time I’ve had to talk with my husband and family, consult a doctor, and look at our finances and upcoming expenses to gather the information I need to make a decision. However, with only 2 weeks left before kids are in my classroom, it would be extremely tight to hire and have someone in place for those kids.  I would hate to leave students in that spot where they might start school with a sub.

*I LOVE my classroom and my lab.  I put so much time into organizing and cleaning it out.  I decorated it really nice and made it super functional.  I would hate to have to move everything out- I doubt I’d ever have a classroom that epic again.  All my desks match, too!

*A bird in hand is worth two in the bush.  I have a job I really love at a school I like and with kids I like and it’s close to my house.  If I resign, they’ll have to hire someone else for my job, and I won’t get it back next year.  There is no guarantee that I get hired again next year at another school nearby either.  With budget cuts, who knows?

*In a new job, I could be teaching anything in the sciences- I love that I have a specifically chemistry teaching job.  Those are rare and hard to come by.

*One of the “Required” measures in the state’s plan is to wear a mask.  That’s helpful.  All students and staff will have to wear a mask unless they are medically exempt.

*I’m still youngish, especially by COVID risk standards.

*Maybe nothing bad will happen- hopefully it won’t and the year will go relatively smoothly and staff and students will stay healthy and get through unscathed.  If that ends up being how it goes, I’d regret resigning and second guess my decision.

*I would feel guilty for calling it quits when so many others don’t have the option and may be at higher risk than me due to age or underlying conditions or taking care of loved ones that are either older or immunocompromised.  I know so many teachers who have to work this year because their spouse/partner is unemployed, or they are the sole breadwinner for their family, or they are going to retire soon and need their income to stay high to maximize their social security benefits.  

*I don’t know how I’ll take it if I go from teaching full time to being a stay at home wife.  I did stay at home for a year when we moved to another state, and it was HARD on me.  I developed a bit of a depression, exasperated by some other things that were going on.  I got on medication and did some therapy and it eventually resolved, but that SUCKED.  I would really miss my students and my fellow teachers and having a clear purpose/mission for my days.  

In conclusion...

I’m not generally a hypochondriac or a “Nervous Nelly.”  Most stuff rolls off my back fairly easily.  This scares me.  I get the flu or an upper respiratory thing almost every year.  There’s no reason to think that somehow I’ll manage to miss COVID if it comes into our school.  I am beyond anxious about teaching in person with so few precautions being taken.  I’m also angry that my choices are to resign and lose the job I really want or to go in and feel anxious and angry about the lack of care and respect that teachers and students are being shown by district and building administration for the foreseeable future until COVID is over.  I have had a stress knot in my gut for the past two weeks over this stuff, and I highly doubt it’s going away if I decide to stay and teach.

Since the pandemic started I have stayed at my house with few exceptions over the summer.  I wear a mask when I go out, I usually use a pick-up option for my groceries, a drive-thru option for my pharmacy, and I just avoid gatherings.  We do occasionally see my in-laws and my parents, usually outside and observing social distancing. In my state restaurants can’t fill to more than 50% capacity and movie theaters are just plain closed, but schools are about to open at 100% capacity.  I honestly can’t imagine putting myself in an enclosed space with over 30 kids or into a hallway with close to 1800 of them.  Even more than that, I can’t imagine not sitting down at a desk next to them to help them or watch them work a problem to see what they’re thinking.  I can’t imagine not getting to hug the girl who’s mom left or sit with the boy who doesn’t feel connected with his peers so he comes up to sit with me and do his homework after school.  Even if I do teach this year, I worry that my kids won’t get what they need from me- whether that’s homework help or emotional support.

If you are so inclined, please send up a prayer for state leaders, school administrators, teachers/school staff, and students this year.  We could all definitely use some wisdom, some grace, and your good vibes.

[oh-boleyn]

te para tres

words: 3809, language: english. jane & kat (kind of mom/daughter relationship)

author’s note: I wanted to keep multichapters on my ao3 but I actually kind of like this fic, and so I thought to post it here too! anyway it is also in ao3

tags: jane & kat - centric, kat is homeless, jane is trying her best, canon abuse/non con, tw abuse, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Families of Choice, Light Angst, pregnant!jane, sickness

part one: las tazas sobre el mantel part two: un poco de miel

la lluvia derramada

They take a taxi to the doctor’s office. The cold weather is not helping them to just walk or try any other route.

“Are you going to find out the baby’s gender?”

“Probably not. I want it to be a surprise.” Jane explains. “What do you think they’ll be?”

“I don’t know. I’m not good with guesses. Have you thought about names?”

“I would like to name them after a family member. It’s a family tradition I don’t want to lose.”

“Tell me names.”

“My father’s name is John.”

“Too plain.”

“Margaery.”

“I like it.” Katherine smiles.

“Edward?”

“Yes! It sounds like a prince's name, something out of Disney.” The teenager nods. “Who is Edward?”

“My brother.” Jane states. “He is my confidant, and he is there for me every time I need him.”

“Is he a good person?”

“Yes, he is.”

(…)

At first Katherine refused to search for her family, but she knows that unless waiting until eighteen was a goal, she should contact them, at least to get her job permission signed, or any document that releases them from being their legal guardians.

What she didn’t know was that her cousin, already in her late-twenties, would want to meet her.

She introduces herself as Anne Boleyn, and it would be a lie if Katherine said that she had never heard that name. They look nothing alike. Anne is shorter than her, has pale skin, green eyes and a round face. She is kind, but tense. Katherine can’t decide if she likes her or not.

Anne is way too enthusiastic for Kat’s liking.

Their first meeting goes rather political, but not as family is supposed to be.

Still, they decide to meet again.  

(…)

Jane never thought Katherine would love hair dye so much, but now for the second time in a row they were sitting on the bathroom, applying electric pink dye to the girl’s hair. Anna recommended changing brands, mostly to not ruin her hair. Cathy also stepped in suggesting that once a month was an alright amount of time, but that doing it less frequent is better.

Still, Jane buys two boxes. If she can give Katherine a sense of stability, she will. Even if stability means dying her hair the same day every month.

(…)

“I can’t remember baking cookies, like ever.” Katherine comments, breaking an egg.

“You are missing a lot.”

Jane looks bright, like the sun. For the teenager, she looks like the standard picture of some announce. Her blond hair is up in a bun, which is not messy but not immaculate, her blue eyes are sparkling warm. She’s wearing a lose overall, with a yellow shirt. Her bump clearly there.

“Do you bake often?”

“No, not really. I used to, when I was younger.” Jane explains. “Can you measure the sugar? I need a cup.”

“Sure.” Kat moves, doing her task. “Why don’t you? If you love baking so much, you should do it more often.”

“I just don’t have the time.” She takes the flour. “Now I do, but before, living with my ex and college. It was just a lot; I never had the time to do it all.”

“Do you miss it? Your life before?”

“No, I don’t think I do.” Jane smiles. “I have better things now.”

She gives Kat a kiss on the forehead as good as she can give the height difference.

(…)

Living with Katherine is not always easy.

She would zone out from time to time, sometimes almost hurting herself. It was hard for Jane to keep up with her, because the teenager would enter periods of dissociation without previous notice. Other times, her personality would almost change, becoming furious and angry, throwing hateful words at Jane and begging to be back on the street.

But lately, every episode ended up the same, with both of them curling on the sofa watching a movie, until Kat would finally go to sleep.

Jane thought a lot about how her baby is going to be in sixteen years. Most importantly, if her baby will love her. The teenager who was now under her care rarely expressed feelings with words. Judging by how she acted around, the older was sure that they loved each other.

Wondering what could’ve happened if they didn’t meet wasn’t something she was too keen on. Katherine was the person she never knew she needed. Helping her felt so natural, almost like destiny, and Jane couldn’t love her more. The teenager had made her way into Jane’s life, becoming her daughter in all but title.

Jane hopes Katherine will let her be around, wanting nothing more than to see her grow and live the happy life she deserved.

(…)

Jane’s family were visiting, and Katherine felt nervous to the core. She knew how much the older woman loved her siblings, and if they didn’t like Kat, she might kick her out.

It was impossible to think about it, but Katherine knew better than to get too attached, even if Jane was the kindest person to her in a long time, so was Culpeper, and it didn’t mean kind was good.

“How is my little princess?” Jane’s father asks.

He looks like Jane; both share the same blue eyes. The word princess makes Katherine flinch, but she tries to cover her emotions. She toys with the pink dress Aragon gifted her from the spring edition of the magazine, while trying to ignore all the people who get into the restaurant.

“Dad, let me introduce you to Katherine. Kat, they are my father and siblings.”

“Hi, I’m Edward and he is my brother, Thomas.” One of them announces. “And my sisters, Dorothy and Elizabeth.”

Katherine is both glad and nervous none of them try to initiate physical contact, not sure if that was Jane’s recommendation or just their way to let her know she is not welcomed.

“I’m Katherine.” She replies, trying not to sound rude.

“Shall we order? I’m starving.” Jane announces, resting a hand on her stomach.

(…)

“Was her family amicable?” Anne questions.

She picked Katherine from the restaurant, trying to give Jane and her family a moment to themselves.

“Yes, they were kind.” Katherine replied, making herself smaller on the car seat. “She has a brother, Edward. He explained every family detail to me so I wouldn’t get lost when they talked about their extended family.”

Elizabeth was almost asleep on the back of the car, which led to the teenager deciding to ride in the front seat.

“That is nice.”

“They are buying her a new apartment.” Katherine blurs out. “They already did.”

“They must have money.” Anne adds, eyes fixed on the road.

“Yes. It is a three-bedroom apartment, and she asked me to move in with her. Like, living twenty-four seven with her.” Kat continues. “I haven’t said yes yet.”

“Do you want to?”

That was a real, fair question and Katherine didn’t know the answer.

A part of her wanted nothing more to have the security and protection Jane offered, late nights watching movies, waking up and having breakfast, going back to school, graduating. But she wasn’t sure she was able to do that, if she was destined to have that kind of happy life. The idea that Jane might kick her out any moment was something she couldn’t erase, but still, she decides to take a chance.

“I think so, yes.”

(…)

“Why did father do that?” Jane questions Edward.

“Do what?”

“Buy me a new place.” The woman states as if it’s obvious.

“You are having a baby. His first grandson. Of course he wants the baby to have a room.”

“And why the room for Katherine?”

“Do you not want her?” He questions.

“I do, a lot. But none of you do.” Jane speaks hurtful.

“We want whatever makes you happy. And if adopting a girl from the street is that, we are going to welcome her as one of our own.” The brother gives his sister a smile. “We are family.”

“Do you think she will want to be a part of it?”

“Your family? Sure. Not so sure about Dorothy, she is not likeable.”

They share a laugh.

(...)

“Jane stop it! It hurts!” Kat says, trying to get the older woman away from her hair.

“Don’t apply so much pressure!” Cathy indicates.

Braiding hair is harder than what she thought it would be. Parr is giving the directions, while Jane is trying to keep up.

“Sorry sweetheart, but this is hard.” Jane excuses herself. “Is there not something easier to do? Like a beginner braid or something?”

“This is the beginner’s braid Jane. It’s just a French one.” Cathy says. “Look.”

She takes Katherine’s hair on her hands, and starts braiding it quickly. In a moment she finishes half of it, doing a tight ponytail instead of finishing the braid.

“See?”

“I hate you, Parr.” Jane half jokes. “You don’t have a baby bump in your way, it’s not fair.”

“Shut up and just admit you can’t do a braid.”

Kat laughs, watching her reflection. “You make amazing braid, Cathy!”

“Thank you!” Catherine replies. “Now, let’s give your cousin a hand with the boxes. Or you will end up moving next year with half of the stuff.”

(…)

Jane and Kat move into the new apartment on a Monday, and they have their first fight on a Tuesday.

“I don’t want to, Jane!” Katherine screams, to the top of her lungs.

“Katherine Howard, we talked about this, you are going to therapy. There is nothing to discuss.” Her voice is hard, stern.

“Don’t Katherine Howard me.”

There is a slam on the door and the poster Anne bought her falls from the wall.

Jane is speechless, Katherine has never been so aggressive before. Even when she was upset, she was usually calmer, quieter. She hated it; how afraid the girl would look if she got even the littlest upset. Getting mad could be considered an improvement, even if it was not gladly received by the older.

Anne Boleyn

Hi Jane! Is everything okay? Kat just texted me if I could come and pick her up.

Jane Seymour

Yes, it’s alright, we were just discussing therapy.

“Katherine, come here please!” She screams.

The teenager comes out of her bedroom with eyes full of tears. The old phone with the cracked screen her cousin gifted in her hand. Her knuckles went white from the pressure.

“We have to talk. I’m feeling upset, I won’t deny it. I am not kicking you out nor I feel different about you, but we have to talk.”

“If I say I will go, will you just stop?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to help you. Why don’t we prepare some tea, and then we can talk?”

Katherine nods, Jane walks to her and puts Kat’s hand on her stomach.

“The baby is saying stop being so headstrong.” Jane laughs lightly, the baby kicking Kat’s hand.

The warmth on the woman’s laugh makes the younger girl relax.

Katherine Howard

I’m sorry, I over exaggerated. Don’t pick me up, but are we still on for next week?

(…)

Something good about the new apartment is how much space there is for the couch. A big pale blue sofa lays on the middle of the room, opposite to the TV. Katherine would be lying if she said she missed sleeping on the couch, her own bed being much comfortable, and her room made her feel protected. It was something she once had for granted, but having a place of her own was one of the best things that ever happened to her.

As usual of their late nights, they are searching for a movie. Streaming was good, it obviously was, but they had felt into the tradition of looking, going through channels. They found the same comedy months ago.

Watching it again comes as a silent agreement.

When the movie is half over, Katherine calls. “Jane.”

The older does not react, sleeping peacefully.

“I think you are asleep, which is good. I don’t know how to say it really, but I am so grateful and thankful and a hundred other words. You gave me a life again, the chance to be a person, to have joy. And you didn’t have to, but you did.” She squeezes the woman a little, careful to not wake her up. “You are going to be the best mom. I love you.”

Jane tries to not blow up her cover, but the slight smile shines through.

(…)

“Anne is my cousin.” Katherine begins to explain. “She is twenty-nine, and she has a little girl, Elizabeth, she is three. Anne is blunt, maybe impolite. She speaks her mind more than I would even think to, but she is also a good person. She pushes and asks me things I don’t want to think about, and it makes me angry when she does it. I also get angry when Jane asks me things I don’t want to answer, or begs me to do things I don’t want to.”

“Have you talked about this with them? Calmly, trying to understand each other.” Her therapist interrogates.

“No, not really. Jane loves to try and talk things out, but I feel nervous about it, I don’t like to talk about feelings.” She explains.

“Do you not like it or don’t know how to talk about it?”

The question plants itself on Katherine’s mind. It has been so long since the last time she had to actually worry about something that was not only her survival that she is not sure for how long she didn’t think about feelings.

Maybe it was when they stole her first backpack, or maybe the first night on the street. It might have been before leaving her house. She doesn’t remember feeling anything with Francis. Not even with Manox. Maybe her feelings have never been there until yet.

She wishes she knew how to express how much admiration she felt for the woman who showed her that not everything was lost.

(…)

“Jane! Anna called me, are you okay?” Katherine asks, running to Jane’s side.

Anne is by her side, looking worried with her car keys ready.

“Yes love, just a fake alarm. The doctor told me about this, fake contractions are a thing.” Jane explains.

“I just freaked out, okay? Cut me some slack.” Cleves complains.

“It’s alright, I had those for like two months with Elizabeth.” Boleyn puts a hand on Kat’s shoulder. “In case you want, I can drive you to the hospital.”

“No, thank you, Anne.” Jane smiles.

Their relationship was polite, they were not friends, but cared deeply for Katherine and were willing to do anything for the sake of their girl.

“Can you take us home?” Katherine asks.

Anne nods.

Katherine takes a moment to consider what she just said. Home. Jane, the baby, the new apartment. It was home, safe, secure. She felt loved there, at ease.

She wished she could just hold onto it and never let it go.

(…)

Jane feels her stomach constrict into itself.

A contraction, another Braxton-hicks. Except that it feels more painful, and a sense of unease settles in her stomach. She is only seven and a half months, the baby shouldn’t be coming, so she keeps with her chores.

Katherine picks up something that is wrong far too late into the night, her mind deviant and without having the chance to focus onto anything, even if she tried every exercise on her list. But once she does, she thinks it might be too late. Jane is having contractions almost every hour, and refusing to go into the hospital.

“Love, I swear I’m alright, there are still six weeks to go.”

“Don’t do this, let me take you to the hospital, as a precaution.” Katherine pleaded. “We might be in serious trouble if you keep refusing, if there’s nothing wrong we will come back and sleep and maybe watch a movie! But please, can we go?”

The older one takes the teenagers anxiety as something more worrisome that what is happening to her. She doesn’t want to make Kat feel insecure. Knowing her almost-daughter is in constant fear of abandonment, she decides to obey, just for her peace of mind.

(…)

Things are clearly not okay.

Her blood pressure is too high, and she has started to dilate. The doctors are quick to give her two shots, one to try and relax her muscles, in an attempt to cease the contractions, and another one with steroids, trying to help the lung development of the baby. Before Jane realizes, there are at least three beeping machines hanging around her.

(…)

“Love, have you talked with my family?” Jane asked.

Her contractions were more and more frequent, almost switching to active labour.

Jane wants to cry, feeling as if she failed her child. The doctors didn’t want to give her much information except for the stable vital signs of the baby. That was not enough to calm her down. She tried to be calmer, to don’t let her stress affect the birth, but she was beyond scared to be successful.

“I did, your parents didn’t text me back yet. Edward says he is coming, he is picking Dorothy. Elizabeth will be here tomorrow, and Thomas sends his best wishes but he can’t come.” Katherine explains. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore?” Jane tries to laugh, but a contraction hit. “I won’t lie, this is painful. Have you called Anne?”

“Yes, she was free to pick me up when I texted her. I don’t want to leave you alone, though.”

“That’s really thoughtful, Katherine.”

“Jane?” The doctor questions. “Can I check how it is progressing?”

She nods. Katherine holds her hand tightly. He checks the machines, and quickly calls a nurse. The teenager squeezes her hand, and she does the same maybe a little harder than intended.

“We have to do an emergency c-section. The baby’s heart rate is growing faster and your blood pressure is not getting any lower.” He announces. “Do you have someone to be with you?”

“Me.” Katherine quickly says.

“Are you over eighteen?”

“Yes.”

The way she lies feels almost natural, and Jane wonders for a second if she ever had to do that before. Her mind can’t focus on it for too long.

“Kat, you don’t have to come.”

“But I want to, really.” She gets closer and whispers to her ear. “Please, you have helped me so much. I have seen the worst things, I think. Please.”

“No, Kat, you are too young.” Jane says, firm. “Is there anywhere near but not in the room she can stay?”

“She can wait in the neonatal unit.”

(…)

They leave her in a corridor with a bright white light that is driving her crazy. Nobody tells her any news, and Jane’s family are supposed to arrive in a couple of minutes but there is still no trace of them. She feels helpless, unable to do anything and clueless enough to be insecure.

But then a nurse shows up with a baby.

“The mom is alright, but taking a nap.” She explained. “She wanted you to be the second to see him. She said you knew his name.”

The chat they had just months before still on her head.

“Edward. His name is Edward.”

(…)

“He is really tiny. And red. Are all babies that red?” Katherine asks her cousin.

“The ones that I know, yes. Elizabeth was quite big, but still red.” Anne smiles, remembering. “She had to be in a lamp and receive plenty of solar light because the doctors said she was yellow, though.”

“I don’t think he looks yellow, at all.”

There is a silence, not uncomfortable, but not at ease.

“How are you feeling about Edward?”

“What do you mean?” The younger questions.

“I know how close you got with Jane. When George was born, I was so upset, I almost cried for days. It took me a while, but now I love him a lot, even when he gets on my nerves.” Anne took Katherine ‘s hand in hers. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m not sure.”

She didn’t have enough time to think about it, to process that now Jane was a mother. A real mother with her biological son. The space Katherine took was now belonging to Edward.

“I am anxious, a tad frightened and excluded, I won’t lie about it.” A feeling of being exposed started creeping up. “But Jane has been nothing but kind. I can’t feel bad about him when she loves him so much. I love him too, I know I don’t know him, but if he is a little like her, he is going to be a good guy, and God knows we need those.”

Anne smiled, and the teenager embraced her in a hug.

“I’m happy you think like that, Kitty.” She squeezes the girl. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Annie.”

(…)

“Jane, can we talk?”

Katherine is trembling, her voice not above a whisper.

To admit how much she adored the older woman was nerve wracking. She almost couldn’t remember how it was to have a mother, since hers died when she was so young. Mothers were probably like Jane. She felt protected, cared for, near her.

“Honey, I’m feeling tired. My legs are killing me. Is it really important?”

She wanted to say yes. To explain how important it was for her, how her life changed for the better since meeting Jane. How much it meant the fact that she felt seen.

“No, not really.”

(…)

Jane feels worse. The ibuprofen is no longer working and her fever is burning up. Not even the idea of going to see Edward can bring her out of bed. Her headache is just getting worse each time, and she feels as if she was going to throw up at any given moment.

Katherine was by her side, trying to help, bringing water and soup, ready for when her mother, or not mother, decides to order her to call for an ambulance.

And she waits.

But Jane never asks, instead Katherine calls when she seems to no longer recognize her voice.

(…)

The teenager is sitting outside the emergency room, in a hall without anybody near her.

Her mind is not there, though, and she feels as if she can almost watch herself as a third person would. Not sure of how much time has passed, she tries to focus on counting numbers, but it doesn’t work. The presence of a doctor doesn’t help either, not even when he tells her the dreadful news. It’s not until she calls Edward, the older, that she realizes what she is saying.

Internal organs shutting out.

Say your goodbyes.

Jane is not waking up.

[seasonofthegeek]

Here comes a personal post because this week has been a doozy and I want to get some words out. Also please don’t reblog this post. This is just for me to get some thoughts down and there’s no reason to spread it. Thanks. :)

Back in May, I began having passive suicidal thoughts and knew I needed to get some help. I didn’t want to actively hurt myself, but I thought it might be better for everyone in my life if something happened to me and I died. After a visit to the doctor, I started an antidepressant that worked for me and I got back to a mental level I was more comfortable with. A few months later, something happened to someone I love dearly and it showed me that I was just teetering on the edge, even with the meds, so I sought out a therapist to have someone outside of my life to talk to.

It’s been a great experience and my therapist is easy to talk to but also good at keeping me accountable in the tasks I’ve set for myself, while also reminding me that it’s okay to fail. She listens and offers advice when it’s warranted and some sessions I’ve just walked in and word vomited for an hour and that’s been fine. A few sessions ago, she suggested I start seeing a psychiatrist to get to the root of some of my issues. She was wondering if I had bipolar disorder (my brother was diagnosed with it ) and put the ball in my court to contact someone if it was something I wanted to explore further.

I was an anxious mess but called one of the psychiatrists my therapist recommended and set up an appointment. That appointment finally came up this past Tuesday and after battling an angry child not wanting to go to school, no time for breakfast, construction traffic, and school traffic, I finally made it to my appointment twenty minutes late (I called on the way, of course). 

I was a wreck and almost didn’t get out of my car when I pulled into the parking lot, but I forced myself out into the cold and then into an unknown office. After a few minutes, I was taken back to meet my psychiatrist and he was one of those people who can immediately put others at ease. He recognized the My Hero characters on my hoodie and told me his daughter loved the show. He smiled and made small talk.

And then he read aloud the notes my therapist had sent him with my consent.

I’m going to be honest, it was ROUGH hearing everything I’ve been dealing with read by someone I just met in the span of a few minutes. He went through it simply, not commenting, just relaying information. I took a big breath when he finished and told him it was hard to hear it all at once. And he smiled and suggested we just start from the beginning.

And that’s how the rest of the appointment was. He was pleasant and kept things simple and asked questions that led me down different paths of conversation. He told me that I would be diagnosing myself with his help and that I had all the power.

It was refreshing.

My therapist is great and she has helped me with a lot of issues, but she can mainly just offer advice on how to deal with things.

My psychiatrist led me to understand why I deal with the issues I have and where they stem from. It was something I’d never given much thought to honestly. I’ve had bad things happen to me, I think everyone has in different degrees, but I didn’t think any of them really shaped the person I am. I was wrong.

After discussing things, we both decided that I’m not bipolar because it didn’t fit for me. I do have depression and anxiety though and they were manifesting in ways that can mimic some of the symptoms of bipolar disorder. I have a feeling I’m always going to remember how he explained my level of anxiety too.

Dr. S: If I said to you, Kayla, do you think most people deal with this level of anxiety in their day to day lives? Would you say “no” or would you say “duh”?

Me, thinking my high level of anxiety is completely ordinary, laughed: I’d say duh.

Dr. S with his nice smile: Ah, see, that’s not the case.

Me: ...oh. Ohhhhhhh.

It was a bit of a revelation to find out this brain stuff I deal with constantly isn’t the norm for everyone else. I didn’t realize most people don’t think when they tell their family goodbye in the morning that it might be the last time they see them because something horrible is going to happen or that their house is going to catch on fire when they go on vacation. I didn’t know most other people didn’t check for their keys three to four times before locking their cars in the fear of locking themselves out. It didn’t occur to me that a lot of people don’t think their friends hate them just because they haven’t spoken in a few hours/days/weeks. 

It was almost a relief to find out and at the same time there was morbid fascination in realizing how off my thinking is because of the anxiety. 

He helped me trace it all the way back to being a child and what caused it and how the depression came into play because the anxiety was fear and fear made me feel helpless and that made me angry. I used to have angry outbursts and temper tantrums out of the blue up to adulthood. I learned to monitor myself better and get things out before they blew up as I got older, but with Dr. S’s help, I could go back and see where it had started and that I’ve carried it my whole life. 

I’ll probably always carry it, but now I know and now I can start working on it.

So that’s what happened with me and my brain stuff which is more than enough for one week, but my son’s brain stuff came into play on Friday.

My son is, goodness, he’s just amazing. He’s my world. He’s funny and goofy and creative and a butthead and moody and loving and better than I could’ve ever imagined. For the past couple of years, it’s become more and more obvious that he wasn’t quite like other kids his age. He was developing slower and didn’t start really speaking until he started doing speech therapy.  Even after a little over a year, a lot of his speech still comes from mimicking. 

He started school this year and I wasn’t sure how it was going to go. I was called back in on the first day after he’d been there for two hours. He’d had a meltdown in the cafeteria because it was too loud and his speech therapist (who thankfully was the same person he’d been working with the previous year as a private student) picked him up from his class and took him to her room as a safe space for him to calm down. He adores her and was able to soothe himself as soon as he was in that familiar setting. I went to a meeting on the first day of school to find that my son was not going to be able to make it through the whole school day, but the school wanted to work with him so he’d still be able to attend. We cut his days down to two and a half hours and went from there.

A month or so after that, a meeting was set up with the district psychologist who wanted permission to observe him and see what further help might be needed. She suggested letting an occupational therapist and physical therapist observe and test him too and I consented to all it. He was having issues connecting to the other kids in his class and he couldn’t seem to follow the schedule. The teacher worked with him the best she could, giving him a visual task calendar he could follow and use to point to and other similar things, but she also has seventeen other students. I knew more help was needed.

So for the past couple of months, he’s been going to his general education class and his speech therapy while also being observed by a psychologist on some days. He did a couple of sessions of testing with an occupational therapist and a physical therapist (who cleared him with a laugh that he is definitely strong and super fast). It was all coming down to the meeting we had on Friday.

Seven women sat around the table and showed me how each of them wanted to help my son. I’m tearing up just thinking back on it, to be honest. The psychologist broke everything down for me and made sure I could see every step of the process they’d all gone through while watching my son. At the beginning of the year, he’d started with paperwork stating that he was receiving help with speech and language but that was being moved to a secondary position because he was now being categorized as mild to moderate on the autism spectrum.

I’d had a feeling about autism. I’d wondered about it from time to time. He fit some of the indicators. Like with finding out about myself, it was a bit of a relief. There’s something about knowing that is just so helpful because then you can ask, “Okay, what are the next steps we need to take?” 

They suggested moving him into the special education class. It’s half the size of the class he is currently in, he’s already familiar with the teacher, his speech therapist works in that class a lot, and he knows two of the students from his group speech sessions. 

LIfe is kinda funny how it works out sometimes. My mom has worked with special ed kids most of my life. I went into her classroom all through high school and got to know the students in there. We’ve discussed the past year or so that my son might need that kind of help, even if it is only for a little while. So when this group of teachers and therapists and the psychologist recommended moving him, I felt comfortable agreeing. I know from the other side of things that it is not something done lightly or suggested easily. 

The psychologist even said it might be something he only needs for a year or two and if they can get him coming to school for longer periods of time, they want to get him back into the general class he was in for short periods. I know they’re looking out for him. They’ve already done so much to accommodate him and I can see they truly care for his development. I feel really lucky that he is going to the school he’s at.

I’m relieved and I’m worried. He’ll start his new class on Monday and I know it’s going to be a tough transition, but I hope it’s for the best. He’s such a smart kid and he’s got a great imagination and I know he’s got a lot going on in that lil noggin. I just want to do the best I can for him.

So I’m watching out for him and I’m trying to take care of me for me and for him (and for my husband and my best friend and my parents). It’s been a lot to learn in the span of a few days but I feel hopeful for the future. <3

[haxballfan-blog]

When You're Sad, Your Skin Is Sad

Correlation doesn't prove causation, but I can't help but notice that both times I’ve lived in my teenage bedroom I’ve felt especially sad. In high school, it was an angry sadness that sought attention. But when I came back to my parents house in March to ride out COVID, the sadness became deep and dull—about everything and nothing. I go to bed dreading the next day like it holds a big test I haven’t studied for. In the morning, I alternately jolt awake while it’s still dark, or tether myself to my comforter well into the workday. I’ve been very privileged in the ways I’ve experienced the past few months, but also very anxious. And actually, the CDC estimates that 40-percent of adults exhibit symptoms of anxiety or depressive disorders as of this past July. (In 2019, that number was 11-percent.) So, yes, I’m crying a lot more than usual; maybe you are too. I’m also breaking out more than usual—and you?

“Yes, stress causes you to break out,” says Dr. Amy Wechsler, who, as one of only a handful of doctors in the US board-certified in both dermatology and psychiatry, is uniquely qualified to answer questions about this kind of stuff—she even wrote the book on it. Dr. Wechsler cites a well-known study done on a college campus during exam week, where researchers found a strong correlation between stress and the severity of acne. “But exam period is like two weeks long, and when the exams go away the breakouts go away. Imagine if you had exam period for five months, you know? That’s like what we’re going through right now.”

According to Dr. Wechsler, the root of stress acne lies in a molecule called cortisol. Cortisol is a hormone that’s pumped out by the body to fight illness, control blood sugar levels, regulate metabolism, and influence memory formation. In general it’s anti-inflammatory, but when you’re stressed, your body responds by producing more cortisol than it would normally as part of the fight-or-flight response meant to keep you alert when you need to be. If that stress is prolonged, and you don’t have the proper coping mechanisms to deal with it, cortisol starts to act very inflammatory.

“Inflammation is the root cause of acne, and eczema, and psoriasis,” says Dr. Wechsler, who also adds that high levels of cortisol over a long period of time will break down collagen, the molecule in your skin that keeps it looking plump. “That’s why when people are really stressed out for a while, they look like they aged overnight.” For a good, obvious example of this phenomenon, take a look at a photo of President Obama in his first year as president compared to his last. Cortisol also weakens your skin’s natural barrier, so you’ll start to experience more transepidermal water loss. Several months of anxiety may leave you with a totally different skin type: even if your skin is normally oily, it will start to dry out and get more sensitive. Dr. Wechsler notes that when your barrier is compromised, your skin is more likely to react to something that normally wouldn’t cause a problem. “That’s when people say things like, ‘I’ve been using the same product forever, they haven’t changed their ingredients, but now I can’t tolerate it.’”

The tricky part about cortisol is that once levels are high, it can be difficult to bring them down on your own. At minimum, you need to make sure you’re getting an adequate amount of sleep each night, which can be difficult when you’re feeling anxious. “Cortisol is at its lowest for everybody during sleep, and healing molecules like beta-endorphins, growth hormones, and oxytocin,” a mood enhancer, “are always at their highest,” says Dr. Wechsler, who compares the molecules’ relationship to a see-saw. If you’re not getting much sleep, you’re not giving the anti-inflammatories a chance to catch up to the cortisol.

During the daytime, you can sort of hack your body chemicals by engaging in activities that directly trigger a release of those happy molecules. Completing your skincare routine floods your brain with dopamine, otherwise known as the “feel-good neurotransmitter.” So would cooking a complicated dinner, or organizing your bedroom, or finishing a book. A workout can help balance too-low endorphins, a fact I always felt was fallacy until I experienced my first runner’s high a few months ago. Not into exercise? Pop on a John Mulaney stand up special—any will do!—for a rush of endorphins you don’t have to sweat for. And to raise your oxytocin levels, turn down the lights and grab your vibrator. Sex drive can lower when you’re depressed, but each time you orgasm your body releases cortisol-lowering, calm-inducing oxytocin.

Of course, these things won’t stop you from feeling anxious, but they might help you feel a little bit better on the day-to-day, and you also may see a difference in your skin. “When people are very anxious, they feel this loss of control over what’s going on in their lives, and normal routines fall by the wayside because they feel unimportant,” Dr. Wechsler explains. “A skincare routine gives you back a little control,” she adds, conceding that, at the very least, 10 minutes of caring for yourself will feel better than reading the news, or scrolling through Instagram.

The absolute easiest, low-effort way to help balance cortisol? For a sad person at least, it’s crying. Scientists aren’t quite sure how or why, but studies show that a good crying session decreases cortisol levels. It was once widely believed that tears were a way to expel excess stress hormones, but now, most researchers think that the benefits of crying have to do with social signaling: just getting out the message that you’re in distress seems to help alleviate some of that distress. And, if you’re crying to somebody, they’re likely to give you a hug, rub your back, or stroke your hair—all triggers for oxytocin.

But while crying is good for the skin internally, it can leave your face feeling… not so great. Which is the reason I called Dr. Wechsler in the first place—I wear my recent crying obviously, and am left frantically icing my face before morning meetings and check-ins with family. Beyond how I look, my post-crying face hurts. My eyes get incredibly puffy, and I often find myself stuck between a rock and a hard place when I cry at night. It happens, without fail, after I do my skincare routine, and I wasn’t sure whether the salty tears left on my skin were further contributing to breakouts. To make my outsides match my insides after a solid catharsis, I wanted to figure out a post-crying best practice—a sad girl beauty routine, if you will.

What I’d learn is that your eyes work overtime to produce tears, which draws an abundance of blood to the surface of your eyelids. If you cry at night, that blood doesn’t have anywhere to go—it pools in your face when you’re lying flat. “If you’re crying during the day and you’re standing up and walking around, gravity will take the swelling from your eyelids, bring it down your face, and flush it out,” adds Dr. Wechsler. For those particularly concerned about morning puffiness, you can stay upright until the swelling subsides, or try Dr. Weschler’s favorite method. “Put a teaspoon in a glass of ice water, let it get really cold, and then take the back of the teaspoon and put it on your eyelid with a little bit of pressure. Both the cold and the pressure really help those blood vessels calm back down,” says Dr. Wechsler, who learned the tip from one of her model patients. Doing that right away will probably help prevent morning puffiness, but if you aren’t feeling up to it, just go to sleep and try to keep your head elevated with an extra pillow. You can always try the spoon trick (and some vertical action) in the morning.

As for the tears themselves, Dr. Wechsler recommends rinsing them off to abate dryness. If you’ve cried within a half hour of doing your skincare routine, you can rinse with a gentle cleanser (or water, if you think another wash will be too drying) and re-apply your skincare products. Otherwise, just rinse and moisturize again.

Remember how I mentioned cortisol is difficult to lower on your own? If you’re experiencing symptoms of anxiety and depression, you might also consider seeking out the help of a trained therapist. While it’s easy to ruminate on how we look on the outside, it’s important to emphasize that this skin issue is indicative of a larger, internal problem. Aside from the auxiliary benefit of helping balance your skin, talking to someone can help alleviate the feelings of loneliness, grief, and uncertainty you might be feeling right now. Therapy for Black Girls, the National Queer & Trans Therapists of Color Network, and Open Path Collective all offer remote therapy options at accessible price points. You might also check out Psychology Today’s list of therapists, which is quite comprehensive—you can filter results by things like specialty, sexuality, and race. If you’re a Black woman, you can also apply for a grant from The Loveland Foundation to subsidize your sessions.

Knowing that my skin is feeling as vulnerable as I am right now, I’ve been taking it easy with my skincare. And the benefit is twofold: nixing breakout treatments lets my skin actually heal, and using fewer products means I’m more likely to actually do my routine (even when I don’t feel like it). I’ve noticed new pimples subsiding after fortifying my compromised skin barrier with products rich in ceramides, natural moisturizing factors, and lipids. I’ve also been chasing opportunities to feel good as often as I can, masked and tiptoeing around the border of my own shrunken comfort zone. Still the breakouts, and the tears, come in waves. But then again, they always have.

[sserpente]

A/N: Requests from two anons and @theliesmithsdaughter. Fluff coming your way!

Words: 2347 Warnings: fluff, alcohol, a bit of angst

Loki was going to love this. It would take you hours on end, so you knew, but by the end of the day, or much rather, Christmas morning, it would be worth it.

You had befriended the God of Mischief a few weeks back upon his arrival on Earth together with his brother Thor to help the Avengers fight Thanos. If only you could put your finger on what it was that intrigued you so much about him—despite his terrible actions in New York a few weeks back or perhaps… because of them.

You quickly became the only person Loki could talk to normally without being insulted or stared at dismissively and after some time… he had begun to open up and you started spending time together despite his own warnings.

“It is unwise to trust me, my dear.” He had said one night. If anything, Loki didn’t seem to trust himself. So you decided to do something nice for him. You had thought long about what to get him for Christmas. You wanted it to be something meaningful, something that would make him happy and feel… loved. Besides, Loki adored your knitted hats and gloves—it was a silly little hobby of yours, really. Years ago, when you had joined the Avengers, a therapist had recommended starting something like it to calm your nerves and you had to admit, it worked wonders. Now, you owned countless handmade scarves, socks and even pullovers.

So you decided to knit Loki an emerald green scarf with golden accents. You had searched the Internet for hours to find the right wool for it but now, you could finally get started. You only had to make sure Loki didn’t catch you to spoil the surprise. That was going to be the challenge.

Yawning, you eyed the digital clock in the kitchen, waiting for your coffee to fill the mug. It was eleven pm already, Christmas was knocking on the door and you were nowhere near done knitting Loki’s scarf. Never before had you attempted such a complicated pattern and the golden threads you intended to weave into the fabric didn’t exactly make your task easier. But you would manage… somehow.

Over the last two weeks, you had found one excuse after another to tend to your Christmas gift. During the day, you were busy planning strategies with the Avengers to fight Thanos and his lackeys, thus, you had to do it in the evening—which was when you usually spent time with Loki. You had neglected him lately; and you felt terrible for coming up with excuses. But it would pay off.

“You told me about this Christmas movie I ‘absolutely have to watch’… what was it, Grinch?” His smooth voice suddenly sounded right behind you. You flinched. There you were, hoping he had gone to bed already tonight.

“How the Grinch stole Christmas?” You corrected innocently. Loki nodded.

“I was thinking maybe we could watch it tonight. Stark has stocked up on those buttered popcorn you love so much.”

“O-oh, you see, I would love to… but I… I got a headache. Really bad one… I’m on my period!” You exclaimed quickly. The God of Mischief, however, only frowned.

“You said you were on your period last week.” Shit.

“Did I? I… oh, I should… probably see a doctor. I think I-I’ll head to bed and call it a night.”

Loki’s frown deepened. If he had been suspicious before, he was certain you were hiding something from him now.

“Well, if that is the case, you should perhaps reconsider drinking coffee at this hour.” He replied coolly. With that, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the kitchen. Shit, shit, shit!

Loki clenched his fists, his jaw clenched as he snorted. How could he have assumed it would be any different this time? No one whom he had let close to him and opened up to, considered a friend to trust had ever truly stayed with him after he had revealed who and what he really was. They all were repelled by his mischief, his character, his entire being. Even Thor, his own brother… he briefly closed his eyes, resisting the urge to destroy the furniture he passed on his way back to his room.

But you… he had thought you different, no, he had hoped that for once, he had found someone who would not lie to his face and try to understand him, someone who would spend time with him regardless of his past. Loki scoffed once more. He had been so wrong and he wondered, desperately, what he had done wrong to make you pull away from him. Why you did not want to be around him anymore… he growled when the antagonising, stinging pain returned to his chest, the pain he had so successfully buried deep within him—right until he had met you, a mere mortal who had accomplished what only the Alfather himself had managed to so many years ago: you had broken his heart.

Loki swallowed thickly. No matter. He would get over the pain. He would bury it once more. He would draw away and cut any form of communication. But if anything, so he had hoped, you would be brave enough to tell him you did not want to be around him anymore instead of feeding him all of those ridiculous lies he saw through within mere moments.

“Why’re you looking so sour, Reindeer Games, did you break one of your horns?” The God of Mischief rolled his eyes. Tony Stark was about the last person he wanted to deal with right now. Angrily, he shot the billionaire a glare.

“Brother, you should join us! Stark made us a… a… what is it called again?”

“Eggnog. It’s called eggnog. And I’m definitely not drunk enough yet to spend time with your murderous adopted brother, Point Break.”

Loki shook his head. He was tempted to conjure up a dagger and throw it at him. What was the movie called you had watched with him at the beginning of December? Nightmare before Christmas? Oh, yes, he would love to be the cause of nightmares right now. But what irked him even more was that he could not stop thinking about you. Could it possibly be? That his strong feelings for you rested upon more than just friendship; that this was the reason his heart had shattered and driven ice into his chest?

“Oh, you will be,” Thor replied cheerfully. “I might have spiked the drinks with Asgardian Ale.”

The God of Mischief sighed before trotting towards the tipsy Avengers. It had been a while since he had tried and drowned his sorrows in alcohol. What more could he lose? He might as well begin now.

It had taken you four hours but you were finally done. You had barely managed to stuff the now finished and neatly folded scarf under a pile of blankets in your room when your bedroom door burst open and nearly made you jump out of your skin. Loki stood in the threshold, his blue gaze restless and somewhat unfocused.

Clumsily, he tumbled into the room. When his eyes met yours, his expression darkened.

“L-Loki? Are you okay? It’s three am, what happened? Are you… drunk?”

The God of Mischief chuckled darkly.

“It seems like it… but it will not help. I am here, am I not?” Here? Here in your room?

“You need to go to bed. Now.”

“Of course… send me away. Shut me out and despise me, for why would you not?” You were surprised he was still so eloquent despite his current state. How much alcohol had he downed? You knew from Thor it took a lot to make an Asgardian drunk… and why had he done it the first place? Send him away… despise him… why would you despise him?

“O-okay, you have to lie down and sleep now, Loki. Come on… you can stay in my room. Go to sleep, Loki, please. You’re scaring me.” You stammered.

The God of Mischief tensed.

“Is that why you do not wish to be around me anymore? Do I scare you?” What the hell was he talking about? Was this about today? How you had lied to him about your period?

Deciding not to reply for now to not fuse his obvious desperation, you shook your head lightly and gently led him towards your bed. Once you had—with much effort—removed his armour so he could lie down shirtless and in his leather trousers only, boots removed, you tucked him in like a needy little child.

“I have never thanked you for being with me… now it is too late.” He mumbled, only seconds before sleep defeated him and he slipped into a deep slumber.

Loki’s head was throbbing when he opened his eyes and squinted at your ceiling, moaning as he turned only to face you sleeping next to him peacefully. Your lips were slightly parted, your muscles so relaxed… he wished to caress your soft skin.

With a start, he remembered what had happened last night. Damn Stark, damn his eggnog and damn Thor’s Asgardian ale! He had lost control last night. He never lost control… and yet, you had cared for him. You had let him stay in his vulnerable state… why? Why did self-righteous humans have to help even those they hated? Why must you torment him even further?

You stirred. He would find out. There was something you were keeping from him and he was determined to discover it. Quietly, so he would not wake you up, he ignored his growing headache and rose from the bed, not bothering to put his clothes back on.

Blue eyes scanning the room curiously, he began to open drawers and wardrobes, even flicking through the papers on your desk in the hopes of finding something suspicious. Only when he eyed the pile of blankets on a storage box in the corner did he frown and approached it, wiping the blankets off the lid.

It was then he saw it. A scarf. A green, soft scarf that had gold shimmering threads woven into it. It was the most precious piece of clothing he had ever seen… and it had been crafted in his colours. He did not need to ponder over where you had gotten it from—he was familiar with your knitting. You had made this… for… for him?

“Loki! It was supposed to be a surprise! I spent weeks working on this!” He suddenly heard you exclaim. He turned, slowly, scarf still in hand to face you sitting upright in bed, rubbing your eyes.

“Why must you be so nosey?” You pouted. Needless to say, you were upset. How could you have assumed you could surprise the God of Mischief himself anyway? But when you looked him in the eye, meeting his soft, tender and apologetic gaze, your heart almost broke in two.

“So… this is why you fed me lies so you would not have to spend time with me?” He asked carefully. Closing your eyes briefly, you nodded.

“Yes… I felt guilty but I…” Your eyes widened when realisation hit you. “Is this why… why you were drunk last night? You said something about me not wanting to spend any more time with you and pushing you away… Loki, I didn’t think this would badger you so much.”

The God of Mischief frowned.

“Of course it would badger me. Christmas is a time for love and friendship, you have told me this much and now… exactly now you decided to pull away… I was jealous. And I was hurt.” He admitted. You swallowed. Had he ever uttered these last words out loud?

“You must… forgive me.” He did not need to say more. You knew he had been hurt one time too much, if not by the people who claimed to love him in the past.

Loki had been wrong. He had been so wrong about you and he felt terrible for mistrusting you. He did not appreciate you had told him lies presumably for his own good to not spoil the surprise; and it reminded him of how Frigga had never bothered to tell him about his true heritage—to protect him. Loki clenched his fists. No, this was a wonderful cause. You had only wanted to make him happy and he had to confess… he was in love with the soft scarf… and you. He was in love with you.

“It’s okay. I know. I’m sorry, I never meant to hurt you.” Smiling timidly, you climbed out of bed and stood on your toes to hug him, frantically ignoring how his exposed muscles pressed against your chest. After a heartbeat, Loki reciprocated the hug. Sighing, he wrapped his arms around you, scarf still in hand until you parted slowly and snatched it away from him.

“It looks stunning, (Y/N), I love it. I cannot wait to wear it.” He said, smirking mischievously in the process, his headache now forgotten entirely.

“Yeah, well, you won’t be getting it before Christmas morning, which is the day after tomorrow.”

Loki playfully rolled his eyes.

“No more lies, yes?”

“No more lies. And tonight, we’ll watch that movie together, alright?”

Nodding, he lifted his chin proudly. He would have to familiarise himself with the Midgardian ways of courting. Alternatively…

“What would you say to a little… trip?”

“A trip? Where to?” Loki smirked.

“Asgard. I recall you telling me that you were not exactly looking forward to the madness that comes with the holidays. If we spent it abroad…”

His words made your jaw drop.

“Abroad? Asgard is an entirely different planet!”

“I am aware. We can leave on Christmas morning, after Stark’s… festivities.” Looking up almost shyly, he warily awaited your reaction. His heart, mending quickly again now, jumped when you giggled.

“Loki, I would love that. What am I gonna wear?”

“You shall see. Father Christmas might leave something under the Christmas tree for you as well.”

A/N: Guys, if you liked this story, I would appreciate so much if you could support me on KoFi! YOU can help me publish my first novel! It’s easy, it’s anonymous, you can do it from all over the world and it’s just 3€! Your help counts too, I’d appreciate it so much if you helped me fulfil my dream! ♥ ko-fi.com/sserpente

[chaniters]

Villain’s exposition

Kruk suggested I should write about Cyrus’ time at the farm, so here it is. Some warnings: It’s LONG, and a lot of monologuing.

IT’s got four of the major trigger warnings. 

-TONS of SPOILERS under the cut !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

-suicide -heavy self-depreciation -drugs -rape

Ortega is there to blunt the sword a bit but he ends up getting cut by it as well. -----------------------------------------------

Villain’s exposition

"What difference does it make now?"

"I want to know whatever happened to you!"

"And I already told you I don't want to talk about it!"

"So that's It? I find you're a villain? THat you're a Regene? That you've been beating us senseless and you’re not going to share a single reason as to why?"

"EXACTLY!" you say walking to the door. But he's too fast, standing in between.

"NO. No, you don't! You've lied to me ALL the time. Since the moment we met you. I thought I loved you, and then you died, and I've been dealing with it alone ever since. You owe me one big fucking explanation!"

"I don't owe you anything!" you say trying to push him. But he won't budge. "MOVE!"

"Fine! I'll move!  But this is the last time I take any of your shit, you hear me? We're DONE. DONE!" He yells at your face moving to the side.

You walk through the door...

"By the way, it's your own fucking house you dumb asshole"

... fuck. He got you again.

You do the 180 turn, glaring at him.

You've never felt like this... there is a rage you didn't know existed in you. Taking over the reins.

"You know what? You win. I'm going to let you know what I've been up to these past years Ricardo." you say turning.

He's got his arms crossed, matching your glare. You walk up to his face once more, slamming the door shut behind you once more.

"You want to hear my side of the story? GREAT!" you say up close "But you better brace yourself because you're NOT GOING TO LIKE IT!" And that's an understatement.

You walk back to the living room. The lamp's still on the floor where you threw it, just like the overturned chair you were sitting on. You let him fix the mess and take the sofa. He’s still glaring at you, but you just look away. Staring contest is over. 

You can see him taking a seat next to you in the corner of your eye. Good. This will take a while.

"Whenever you're ready," he says, arms still crossed.

"You want the truth" you sigh. "Well, I'm going to give you the truth. Enough for you to fucking choke in it."

"Be my fucking guest?" he says sarcastically "If you even can say anything resembling the truth"

"Let's go. Where do we start?"

"Maybe at the beginning?"

"Great. So let's go back to 2001 when I was born..."

"You're much older than 20 Cyrus... Maybe you just physically can't stop lying?"

"Shut it. I was born out of a liquid nutrient tube in 2001 at a place called The Farm in the Nevada Desert. I was made to look 14 years old from the get-go"

"Wha...?"

"I was MADE you idiot. what part do you not understand? They didn't need a baby to perform their covert operation missions. They wanted field-ready agents"

"You mean you're..."

"Yeah... I look older but I'm just 18 years old. Surprise bitch! I'm legal this year if you still want to fuck me. Want to know which day's my birthday while at it? We could have cake and all that jazz"

"I..."

"I suggest you record this because I'm not going to do this ever, EVER FUCKING again." you glare at him. You already feel the migraine. “It hurts to even speak about this. Also, they one rule they taught me was to keep my mouth shut, so speaking about this is just...” you can’t even begin to describe how it feels right now. 

He says nothing for a few seconds... then presses a few buttons on a hidden panel on his mods. Of course. Living recorder.

"Go on"

"So it's back to 2001. I was sleeping comfortably in my tube marinating around my own bodily fluids. You know, usual perverted experiment stuff. And then BAM!. They activated me. Or more like electroshocked me, whatever the case I came into the world with a bang. But I wasn't really myself at first. I had the intellect of a potato because my mind had never been used before, not while sleeping and being grown to the ideal age. So they jumpstarted my implant... and boy, that's when all the fun started"

"Implant?"

"Yes. They put implants on our brains to impart basic knowledge. How to stand upright. How to use a toilet. The basics of speech. How to eat with your mouth shut. How to eat period. You know. Baby stuff. Because that's what we were, babies in the bodies of adults. They awoke a whole batch of us, and they immediately started imprinting memories and knowledge in our little lab-rat brains."  

"So you never had a ..."

"Childhood? Nope. Sorry, that's not for me. And of course, no parents either, It was more like a chicken factory. And not all of us came out alright. Several were discarded that night. Not that I noticed, I had more important stuff to do trying not to have my head explode with all the new information. They processed us. Got us a bath. Dressed us. Gave us our first meal, a sort of milky liquid. Actually, maybe It was baby formula for all I know.. And then they got us to a group bedroom and made us all lay down, tied us to the bed to make sure we wouldn't fall off. Then they turned off the implants not to fry our brains, and left us to our own devices." "Most of us screamed or cried all night long, because, you know, we were essentially human DNA based and our instincts told us we wanted our mommies with us. But that wasn't going to happen. Not to us."

He just stares at you, unsure if you're lying or not. Of course, he would, your truth is far more outlandish than any lie you could make about it. Perhaps you should spare the details... but no. You're mad. Let him have it all, he asked for this.

You go on, detailing how several of you simply died off over the next few days, and the doctors were just discarding the bodies as if it was the usual. Because it was, there was nothing natural about being born this way and it was an extremely traumatic experience the human body was not designed for. Because some medical machine failed. Because of some doctor's neglect of fuckup. Because you were all loaded with Hero-Drugs from birth and didn't stand the dosage long-term... Or maybe no one knew why in some cases. And you were among the "Lucky" ones and survived.  

"Then after the acclimation and basic imprinting period, we were assigned handlers and sent to classes. Speech, speech and more speech. They wanted us to talk. We were extremely fast at it, you know. Because we had baby brains back then. We learned 9 languages. Some of us even got to 12 languages or more. You know I talk Spanish. Chen doesn't know I speak Cantonese. And then school. And high school. And a few degrees. The Best education there in the farm. I'd recommend it if it also included basic rights..."

"Then there were physical classes too. Martial arts, personal defense. Combat. Guns. Driving cars. Driving bikes. Driving Helicopters. Driving whatever actually... you name it. Oh, and managing our powers too of course! And medical exams, all the time. Tests and more tests... They wanted to know everything about our abilities"

"How long did all this take?"

"Some years" you smile. "Some of us died in accidents... our handlers tried to keep us alive though. There was a big bonus for them in it."

"How was... your handler?"

"Oh, she was actually decent. Some were not so lucky," you say bitterly. He swallows, but you don't elaborate.

"Eventually they figured out my powers... They decided I was a low-key psychic, and trained me for information gathering and surveillance. And that's what made me who I am. They chose to make me a Cuckoo, so instead of dying my skin blue, they left it as is, and just tattoed my code bar on human-looking skin. So that's what it all comes to. Some stupid scientist decided I was good enough to have the get the fancy paint job. If it hadn't been like that, we'd never have even met" You smile. "Or maybe you'd have thought of me as one of those blue-skinned things that give you the creeps."

"I never..."

"Oh yes, you did. Numerous times. I threw a ton of oddballs at you to find out what you thought about regenes, and each time you made it very clear how disgusting you found my whole bio-engineered fuck-up species." he goes silent for a moment pondering on your words "Relax. Most people claim we should just be exterminated as an affront to god, so I'm pretty used to it..."

"So where was I? Oh yes. TRaining. They made an agent out of me. It was a whole big montage with a song, like in those movies. And I was happy to be their agent! I mean, they gave me drugs to make me feel good when I succeeded in my missions, and they made me drugs to make me feel sad when I failed my missions, and they gave me drugs when they wanted me to sit tight and shut up in between missions, so whatever I did, I was in high cloud nine the whole time! No don't you feel sorry for me" you smile weakly.

He shifts uncomfortably. Of course, he can't handle knowing this. But this is what he wanted, so this is what he's going to get.

"So one of the handlers didn't follow protocol much, you know? He had a harem of young female regenes that absolutely adore him, and he treated them like his personal dolls... so he..."

"What?!"

You shrug "Our bodies didn't belong to us. We were state property and he just took advantage." you smile bitterly. "So many of them took advantage... doll fuckers they called them. It was a running joke... We were almost all used one way or another by then. And we all had teenage bodies... To tell you the truth, I think they just kept us on drugs to prevent our hormones from tearing us all apart"

"Where you...?"

"Nope! I guess I wasn't funny enough, or smart enough, or good looking enough compared to my brothers and sisters... you know I actually used to wonder why they didn't like me? Made me feel so ugly..."

"That's just sick Cyrus!"

"Of course it is, but no one cared about 412's inner unresolved sexual trauma. Oh, that was my name. 412." You keep the cheerful attitude as you go through your life. You try not to ponder how long can you keep it up.

"So this handler used to talk to his doll fans about life outside the farm to impress them. And you know, when I wasn't too drugged, I actually listened. And I thought it was the best thing i had heard about in my life. Which was quite a short time actually..."

"And thus, I became an agent and took part in several missions. Most of them were just finding out stuff or making sure there we no problems for the main agents, you know. Support stuff mostly. Until they started to order more complex stuff"

"Like what?"

"Oh, you know... Steal files.. infiltrate buildings...  Also, they made me interrogate prisoners.. assassinate the odd terrorist..."

"You killed people??" he asks taken aback

"Well, I hadn't been taught to say no, you know? Didn't get the best role models."

"Hmr..."

"So I was a fine agent and all... until one of our missions went hella bad... Me and three of my friends from the orange-pinstripe-club..." you say tracing one of the lines on your tattoos "...we got captured by Russian intelligence. They killed our handler -you know, I actually miss her now that I think of it- then they tied us up and began cutting us open after using some sort of scanner. They were talking about removing our trackers...and that was VERY, VERY interesting to all of us."

You lift up your shirt to show you a small scar on your side.

"So they didn't know I was a telepath. I wasn't very strong back then, but I could do stuff if you gave me enough time and they were very close to us... When they least expected it, I made them undo our knots and my two friends took their lights out. We fled, on the back of a truck carrying bananas."

"Yikes"

"What did you expect a more elegant escape? It's me we're talking about. So we were cut loose, no trackers or so the Russians said... and well... suddenly none of us was in any no rush to go back... we could explore a bit of this real world we had heard so much about, you know? Those KGB guys did us one big favor."

"What happened to the other two?"

"Each of us took a new name... wished ourselves good luck... and split. Much better chances going our separate ways."

"You never saw them again?"

You smile at him. "We expected to be caught within days. This was just us acting up, throwing a tantrum. You don't understand the degree of control they exerted over us..."

"So how did it go?"

"Terrible. Within a day and a half, I was having withdrawal from the whole drug cocktail. Ended up on the streets, alone and it was winter. It was very, very rough and I had never been alone before, everything I tried came up wrong and I couldn't ask anyone for help. I was considering handing myself over when I met this old lady who needed someone to take care of her... and I did. She let me stay at her appartment.. and I started getting better eventually. Until she passed" you say, clearing a tear from your eye. "That's the first human I really cared for"

He nods slowly, waiting for you to go on.

"So a few months later, I was still living in her apartment alone, until Mr. Molotov moved on to the lower floor, and set up shop. Every night he worked out to make his weapons and suits, it was like a factory, I couldn't hear my own thoughts or sleep... So I had to find a solution"

"Waaait... is that why you came after me? He was too noisy?"

"You wouldn't believe how bad it was. No one complained because the building was full of squatters like me, and well... he was a supervillain. And I wasn't good enough to go toe-to-toe with him myself."

"You could have moved"

"Yeah. But they were MY apartment. That woman wanted me to have it. Why should I move? I think that's the first selfish thing I did"

"You know the rest... I got you to get rid of him, but the building burned down after the fight... found a new place to stay... and then the Eldritch mess happened and I became friends with Anathema..."

"But why did you become a hero?"

"Anathema. And you." you turn away "You were my first real friends... And I liked you... wanted to be like you. Made me there could be more to life than just surviving. That I could have my own interests.  And I kept thinking ... Maybe If i do well enough, then they'll let me be a human as well!"

"But you are!!"

"No, I'm not. I never had a childhood. No parents. I never went to school or was in a sport's team. Never had a boyfriend or girlfriend. Didn't even know how to have my own opinions for the longest time.  I'm just this thing they made to be a slave that's rebelled against them."

"You are still human!" he says holding a hand to your arm. You just pull away.

"I don't need your pity" you burst out. He retracts his arm startled by your reaction. You sigh "Shit... and we didn't even get to the juicy parts..."

"We can stop" he makes a peace offering.

"No. No, we can't, because you won't stop asking until I tell you everything, and I told you, I'm never going to do this ever again. So we're doing this" You say with teary eyes.

"Let me get you a soda," he says standing up.

"'kay," you say laying over the couch sideways. You close your eyes. Everything's spinning. But it's ok. It's under control... for now at least... Just have to keep your shit together and you'll get through this.

.............half a can of soda later.........................

"Hey... I'm sorry" you start

"No, I should be sorry," he says pacing around the room.

"For what? I've been dodging these questions for ages..."

"Yes, but I have no Idea It was so..."

"Horrible? Perverted?" you chuckle. "It gets so much fucking worse"

"You don't have to continue if you don't want to, really"

"I kind of have to now..."

"I just didn't know..."

"Ricardo... you and Anathema are among the only people that treated me like a real person... like I mattered at all. Every tiny moment of normality with you guys was something I had never experienced before. So I owe you a whole lot, You fucking know that, right?"  

He turns, giving you an odd look. OF course, he didn't know that.

"Crap..."

"I never knew that the... regular stuff meant that much to you. I just thought you were... easily impressed"

"Well I was" you smile

He nods and takes his seat once more.

"Ok, here we go again" you start.

"You know what happened next... the Psycopathor mess... that kiss.. -you both smile at it-, The Phoenix massacre... a few other stuff... then Elyise... the Nanosurge..."

"And Heartbreak" he adds when you fail to do so.

"Yeah. Heartbreak"

This is not kool. You don't even know where to begin. He holds your hand... slowly. You don't pull back this time.

"You're cold," he says taking both your hands in his.

"So that bitch... he was from the farm too. But different. He just wanted to Kill everyone. Everywhere. Including himself. I think he got off killing himself while possessing other people's bodies if that makes sense? Addicted to suicide so to speak. I'd say he was a living weapon even."

"Shit"

"You saw what he did to the city... to everyone. To Anathema" You swallow hard. "I was right there... I should have done something... should have..."

"There's nothing you could have done"

"You don't know that... I just thought Steel's Mind Dampener would protect us? I couldn't use my powers all that much, so I didn't think anyone else could. But Heartbreak... went right through it..."

"None of us knew. They sent us in the dark"

"They did. The farm fucked up big time. Releasing that thing..." you sigh. "I managed to get up to it... I walked to it and shot it. Several times... and It still wouldn't die"

"Is that when..."

"It made taste the gun. It wasn't even angry. Just wanted me to taste it... Took his time. UNtil you stopped me."

"I couldn't stop you"

"No. No, you could not" you pull back your hands and cover your face. It's too much. The fucking memories.

"Want to stop?"

"I told you, we're doing this..."

"Then scooch," he says.

"What?"

"You heard me," he says. You stand up, and he lays down on the couch, then pulls you down over him too, wrapping arms around you.

"Seriously?" you smile "This can't be comfortable"

"Whatever. Now you can go on," he says tightening his grip for a moment.

"Idiot" You feel stupid like this, but at the same time, It's somehow making you feel safer. You decide to trust him, he's the one who knows the tricks of bodily contact after all.

"I can be your idiot if you need me"

"And now you're corny too" you clear some more tears again.

Silence. He waits for you to continue...

"He... It... It broke something in my mind. Made me stop caring about life. Found all of my fears and magnified them by a thousand. I never had such high self-esteem, you know that, but... he made me see myself as this repulsive thing... Like I had no right to be alive. Just a waste of oxygen, bringing problems to everyone... And offered me a release, If i just did what he said and jumped the window. I tried to resist. Tried to hold on to the good memories but... besides you, I realized I didn't have that many... That I was just a mess." Your voice breaks for a few seconds "He must have done the same to Anathema"

"You're a human just like me. And whatever he did to you, it's not true, you know this" he says giving you a soft kiss on the neck.

Your voice turns shakey as you share the darker parts of your story...

"They took me in that ambulance... I don't remember everything. Took me back, and fixed me... and then.. then started figuring out what to do with me."

"How did they do that?"

"They interrogated me... dampened the cell. Used different methods. I asked them to set me free. I told them ..." it takes a few tries to actually say it "...I told them the rangers were going to rescue me. I told them you were going to come for me. I kept saying that... so many times… I was sure my best friend Charge would come in, beat the bad guys and we’d be off, like always… I was so fucking naive!"

You can feel his reaction. Now it's his turn to cry.

"I didn't know Cyrus... If I had known... "

"OF course you didn't… But I still kept waiting for you. And you never came. Also, as I kept insisting with that, It turned out to be a huge mistake. They panicked"

"What... why?"

"Because they knew just how close Sidestep and Charge were. They thought you had to know I was a regene. That I would have told you at some point. They were thinking you would reveal what they had done to the world."

"But I didn't"

"No. And I told them that. I didn't know what would they have done if they thought you were a security risk to them... I told them I had never told you... and they didn't believe me. So they started the... enhanced... interrogation and re-education"

"Torture?"

"Yeah. THat's the word. And also they wanted to do full medical exams and testing... very painful medical tests... They thought my powers had improved a bit. They kept wanting bone marrow. I'm not sure why. They took samples so many times... "

"Shit... shit... How long?" he asks at last.

"I have no idea. Months at least. They did waterboarding, electroshock... truth serums... chemicals... sleep deprivation, food deprivation, cold... and then they brought in the psychologists. Those can torture you pretty badly as well, you know?"  

He just holds on to you, listening to your words. You wish you could stop, but you're not finished. You have to get this out because if you don't, you'll never do it.

"They sent a new handler to oversee my... procedure. Funny thing he was a Sidestep fan back when I was in costume... So he was in charge of talking to me whenever I wasn't being dragged into some testing chamber. To be the "Good Cop"

and ... he... " you rub your eyes. This is too hard.

"What did he do, Cyrus?" you can feel he probably can already tell.

"He... used me. He fucked me. I was his plaything... He boasted about owning me with the others. I tried to get him to stop at first... but then he would beat me, and call the guards on me... and then it'd be even worse... so I just... let him. I just stopped caring."

Ricardo's gone completely motionless behind you, except for the heavy breathing on his chest. Now he's angry as well.

"I'm going to kill him... I'm going to kill him, Cyrus. I'm going to find him and kill him... " he repeats a few times. You just stay still. You used to dream about killing him, even before you left the farm.

"In the end, I didn't care. Because they reminded me I wasn't human. I was back to being a tool in their box. That's what they called this... "Induced depersonalization". Reduce us back to being what we were meant to be once more. They had a lot of experience with escapees like me. I couldn't understand why was this happening to me. Why was everything so unfair.  I just knew it was my own fault because that's what they kept telling me..."

He holds you as if his arms could heal. You can feel him trembling behind you. His tears on your neck. You knew this would break him. Why are you even telling him this? These secrets only bring pain...

"One day he came in... and told me to stop asking for the Rangers to rescue me. He told me you knew all along. That it was just a delusion of mine. That you handed me over to the Directive after Heartbreak when you saw my Tattoos. He told me we weren't friends. That you had moved on. I didn't want to believe it... but they drugged me. And then they showed me a video of you living your ordinary life. Getting awards and medals for more heroics through the city without me. You know, being happy. While I was back there"

"Did... Did you believe it?" he asks unsteadily

"Yeah. I bought theyr story. My mind was a fucking mess, they could have fed me any story they wanted by then. I hated you. I hated you so much... and I hated myself mostly, for being so stupid. That very night, I tried to kill myself. Tried to force him to choke me, even trough the dampener. I didn't even realize I was doing it... until I felt I was inside his body."

"You.."

"They stopped him. They just thought he had done it by himself. You know, he had been torturing me for months. They thought he was losing sight of his goals. They replaced him soon enough. A new handler came in, and It went on, and on... But I had learned something. I learned I could still use my powers"

"And then?"

"They started trusting me with small things again. I had undergone their "Process" so I was a loyal tool once more. They had me mess up the minds of other regenes for them. Inside the farm mind you, they weren't going to let me out again...

"Until I escaped. It's a bit blurry about how I did it... I possessed several people. I was drugged half the time too. I just remember I had someone drive me off the desert, inside a supply box... the rest is ... gone" you say finally.

"I remember I squatted a room. I was just using my powers freely then. Got drunk. Did several drugs for months. I was always hiding in filthy hotel rooms or sleeping in alleys... I just... sort of gravitated towards Los Diablos I guess"

"I saw you" you continue. "I almost talk to you... but I was... very confused. I still think you knew what had happened to me and did nothing. I thought you abandoned me there. I walked up to my Tomb, and Anathema's... And I came up with a fucked up plan to cause a new mess I guess?"

"If only I had known..."

"Yeah... well at least... at least now you know."

He sighs softly.

"Well that's.. the whole story... except for one more thing I guess"

"Tell me"

"I just... You know... Sometimes I still feel like he was right? Heartbreak? When he told me that I don't deserve to live"

"Cyrus you're a good person. You have a lot to live for."

"Do I?" you ask him a bit unsure “Because sometimes I don’t know Ricardo. I mean do you even see a future for me? One in which I don’t end dissected on a laboratory?”

"You saved the city countless times. You're a hero. I'm going to be here for you, as long as it takes. And you do deserve to live like everyone else, ok? And we’ll make a future for you. I’ll make sure of it." he says behind you.

You close your eyes. Your eyes feel watery and you just are just weak and tired. He keeps speaking, saying something meant to be comforting. He holds you tighter as he notices you're shaking all over. You can feel the warmth of his breath over your ear tough the words lose all meaning.

You're overcome once more, with that familiar sensation of pointlessness. Feeling like you're dangling over a dark bottomless pit. He's holding you now, but does it make a difference?

Does it really?

"I'm here for you Cyrus. Always" he says as if he heard the question in your mind. 

.......................................

He stays the night. He takes you for a walk through the beach the next day and makes sure you make an appointment with your psychiatrist before leaving to work.

Life goes on, not caring you can't shake the feeling that you were hit by a bus. There's a big relief, but also anxiety. You're not sure what's going to happen now that he knows.

And eventually nothing bad happens but you can’t shake the feeling that it will. You just know it will. Still, he just grows much closer than he ever was to you.

Having someone who actually knows you accept you as you are is a whole new thing. It’s scary, and it's not going to be easy getting used to it.

The numb sensation stays with you for a few more weeks.   ____________________________ My fanfics: https://chaniters.tumblr.com/post/181692759294/my-fanfiction-for-fallen-hero DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fan fiction using characters and the setting of the Fallen Hero: Rebirth and upcoming Fallen Hero: Retribution games written by Malin Riden. I do not claim ownership of any characters from the Fallen Hero wold. These stories are a work of my imagination, and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon. These works are intended for entertainment outside the official storyline owned by the author. I am not profiting financially from the creation of these stories, and thank the author for her wonderful game/s, without which these works would not exist.

[lightsburnbrite]

Such a Thrill: Part 13

Looking down, Leon didn’t need to hear it to know the tone the text was sent in.

Late. As always.

He shook his head to himself as he quickly typed a reply.

2 minutes. Chill.

As he approached, Leon saw Marius before Marius saw him.

“Where are you coming from?” Marius looked up as he kicked out a chair from the table he was sitting at. “I thought you lived back in that direction.”

Leon shrugged as he sat down and picked up a menu. “Yeah, we moved a couple of months ago.”

“We?” Marius scoffed.

“Yeah.” He put the menu down and folded his hands in front of him before sitting up straighter. “You’ve never given me an answer about why you hate Karina so much.”

Marius gave a sight shake of his head. “I don’t hate her, I just think she’s terrible. She will do whatever she needs to do to get what she wants, she lies and is deceptive in everything she does. Watch, as soon as she gets whatever it is she wants from you, she’ll drop you and move on to her next victim.”

Their conversation paused when a bottle of water was brought over. Leon raised an eyebrow and stopped himself from laughing.

“What?” Marius continued. “She had this rich old guy wrapped around her little finger but left him as soon as she figured you were better. Our parents thought he was her boss but I know she was whoring herself out for his money.”

Leon allowed himself to laugh now. “Do you actually believe what you’re saying? I know the story behind her relationship with Strohman. I even met the guy before he died and you are so off base.” Propping his elbow on the table, Leon leaned in. “I’ve spent the last year with her. Either you’re wrong or she’s the most brilliant sociopath to have ever walked the Earth.”

Marius snorted at that.

“I’m serious!” Leon laughed at the thought of Karina being some Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde type. “She can’t hide anything, it’s so obvious if something is bothering her if you know what to look for. Maybe she’s just that way to you because you’re a dick to her.”

He shook his head adamantly. “I’m not. At least, not when she hasn’t deserved it.”

“The whole time that I have been around the two of you, you’re trying to tell her what she can and can’t do, there was the incident with Mathea-”

“Ok!” Marius protested. “Maybe I’ve been a jerk. I still don’t get why it has to be my sister.”

Leon threw up his hands. “I don’t know. I didn’t wake up one morning and think ‘damn, how can I piss Marius off today?’ She just makes me happy.”

There was a long pause as if Marius finally accepted what Leon was saying. “So you live together, you’ve got a dog…are you getting married or what?”

“Elsa is Karina’s, if we break up the dog goes with her.” He shrugged after that. “Neither of us are thinking about getting married either, right now we’re good.”

Marius grimaced as if he was already regretting what he was about to ask. “So why didn’t she come with you today?”

Looking up, it took a moment for it to register that Marius had no idea what had gone on. “It takes a lot for her to actually leave the house.”

After Marius looked at Leon like he had two heads, he continued. “There was a guy who was stalking her. He broke into her apartment when we were in Amsterdam and waited for Karina in her bed. I was with her so I don’t know if that stopped him from doing anything more…she never went back to her apartment after that. We stayed in mine for a few days before we found a new place. She’s been seeing a therapist and he has her on some kind of anxiety medication but she hasn’t been the same since it happened.”

“Oh,” Marius took a few more minutes to process what had been said and then seemed to experience some sort of sympathy for his sister. “I had no idea.”

Leon gave a slight nod. “I’m trying to convince her to see someone else but I haven’t had much luck with that yet.”

“Do you, um…” Marius cleared his throat. “I don’t know if our parents could help at all.”

With a shrug of his shoulders, Leon tilted his head. “I’m not really sure what she needs right now, to be honest.”

When Leon got home, he found Karina sitting on the sofa, staring blankly at the television. He leaned over the back of the sofa and kissed her cheek before sitting down next to her. “I picked up some sushi for dinner, you hungry?”

Karina sighed as she shook her head. “Not really.”

“What’d you get up to today?” Draping her arm around her shoulders, Leon pulled her in close. To his relief, Karina nestled in against him.

Twisting her body so that she was now facing him, Karina brought her arm across his chest and rested her hand on Leon’s shoulder. “I’ve been working on a script for the museum guides. Giving some background on the artist and the period in which it was made, if it’s part of a set and answers to some possible questions, stuff like that. Anyway, I turned the first draft in so then I’ll make revisions and go from there.”

“Yeah?” Leon leaned over and kissed her temple. “Did you go in today?”

She braced herself for Leon’s thinly veiled disappointment when she shook her head no.

“Ok.” Leon rubbed her shoulder before he stood up. “Does Elsa need to go on a walk?”

Upon hearing the word, Elsa sprang up from her bed and sat eagerly at Leon’s feet.  

Leon laughed and gave her a pat on the head. “Ok, miss. Just hang on. Maus, you wanna come too?”

“Maybe next time.” Karina kept her eyes forward as she responded.

“Ok…um,” Leon inadvertently sighed. “We’ll be back.”

Once Leon made it a few steps outside, he pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts until he found the the team psychologist. He set up a meeting for fifteen minutes from then, took Elsa on a quick walk around the block and then they both got in the car.

When Leon walked in, the psychologist stood and smiled, offering his hand to shake. “Good to see you Leon and…?”

“This is Elsa,” Leon shook his hand and sat down. “Sorry Martin , I used the excuse of taking her for a walk to duck out of the apartment.”

Martin quickly smiled. “Not a problem, she’s a beautiful dog. Now, what can I help you with today?”

With a quick nod, Leon inhaled softly and began. “I was hoping you could give me some advice about my girlfriend. A man was stalking her and broke into the apartment and she’s been having panic attacks since. She’s seeing a therapist and she’s on medication but I almost feel like the meds are making her worse. She won’t leave the apartment, she hardly eats, I don’t think she really sleeps. I want her to see a different doctor to get a second opinion, is there someone you could recommend?”

“Does she leave the apartment for her therapy sessions?” Martin started to flip through some business cards that he pulled out of a desk drawer. “Do you know what medication or medications she’s taking?”

Leon nodded again and started looking through his pockets before reading off a slip of paper. “Uh, fluoxetine and alprazolam. But, um, I think she’s only seen the therapist twice.”

“Ok.” Martin scribbled a few notes down before looking back up at Leon. “I’m concerned that she, what did you say your girlfriend’s name was again?”

“Karina.”

“Right, it concerns me that Karina’s doctor seems to be treating her with medication only. Usually, with anxiety disorders, we like to take a cohesive approach of cognitive behavioral therapy supplemented with medications as needed. I have a few colleagues that will make house calls until the agoraphobia subsides.”

Leon cleared his throat. “Agoraphobia?”

“Simply put, a fear of public places usually triggered by a traumatic event.” Martin handed the business cards to Leon. “From what you’ve described, Karina is having a normal reaction but is not being treated in the most beneficial way. Once her therapy gets on track, she should make a full recovery.”

“Ok, um,” Leon stood and nodded. “Thanks, Martin.”

Martin smiled as he shook Leon’s hand. “Anytime. Please let me know hoe everything works out.”

Leon fixed himself a plate to eat when they returned home and sat back down on the sofa but eventually stood again when Karina was indifferent to his presence.

“I guess I’ll go to bed now.” Leon spoke out loud as he walked towards the bedroom but didn’t anticipate Karina joining him.

After stripping down to his underwear and brushing his teeth, Leon laid on the bed with his phone resting on his chest. He contemplated masturbating but still held out hope that Karina might join him. Finally, he got up and walked back to the living room.

“Mausi,” He stood behind the sofa rested his hands on Karina’s shoulders, eventually giving her a little bit of a massage. “Come to bed. Please?”

Karina nodded as she turned the tv off and stood. Once she made it to the bedroom, she undressed and sat on the bed, taking Leon by the hand and drawing him closer.

She swung her legs up on the bed, parting them slightly, and waited for Leon to take over. Karina closed her eyes as Leon started by kissing her neck and then her breasts. He pinched her left nipple as he sucked on her right and eventually pushed two fingers inside of her.

She started to recite the script she was working on in her mind before she realized that Leon was no longer attending to her.

“Why’d you stop?” Karina frowned but didn’t bother to open her eyes.

Leon moved to the foot of the bed and sat on the edge. “Because you obviously don’t want to have sex right now.”

“So?” She sat up, almost irritated that she couldn’t just get this over with. “Why does that matter? You want to so just hurry up.”

Leon sighed as he stood and walked to his side of the bed, throwing the duvet back so he could lay down. “This might surprise you, but I don’t want to have sex if you’re not into it too.”

“You’d rather jerk off then?” Karina let out a little snort as she stood to put her clothes back on.

He covered his face and let out a frustrated groan. “I’d rather you want me. I’d rather you want to leave the fucking house again.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Karina snapped back at him. “Am I just supposed to pretend like nothing happened?”

Leon stood now as well. “No, but I wish you’d stop pretending that loading yourself up with Xanax is actually helping instead of just turning you into some fucking zombie that doesn’t care about anything anymore.”  

For a moment, Leon thought he was going to make her cry.

Karina’s gaze shifted to the floor and her shoulders hunched as she covered her face before letting her hands fall back to her sides. “I don’t know what else to do. What if I’m just broken?”

“You’re not broken.” Leon walked back over so that he was standing in front of Karina. He rested his hand against the back of her neck, grazing his thumb across her cheekbone. “I want you to get a second opinion, see a different doctor.”

She laughed wearily. “How am i supposed to do that if I can’t even make myself go outside?”

“I know of someone who will come here.” He pulled her against him, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. “Let’s give that a try at least.”

***

Dr. Anje Kattan sat in the arm chair positioned to the left of the television while Karina and Leon sat on the sofa.

“Can Leon stay?” Karina gripped his arm as if letting go meant Leon would somehow float out of the room.

Dr. Kattan smile and nodded. “If it would make you more comfortable, yes. Now, let’s get started, shall we?”