#i'm in college now and full time is 12 credit hours

[glacierruler]

It's so annoying just how right my dad can be, while still being incredibly wrong. Because, when talking about how he has to scan a QR code to petition the school to not have her classes end up as audits because she's missed x amount of days, he brought up how her grades were good in all of her classes. And we both agree that the QR thing is stupid when they don't also give a web address to do it on!(Not to mention that he got this paper today, the last day to do this). And he made a comment about how schools are just teaching us how to pass tests, how to be cogs in a machine. And he's right.

Like don't get me wrong, there are quite a few things that schools do well. But, for highschool, you have like 8 classes a day, with only one early release say where you then have like, 4. Not to mention homework, oh but if you want to do extracurriculars like soccer you have to have at least C's and no more than 6 tardies/absences that aren't excused by a doctor's note. Even though for a good half of the year you have to wake up before dawn to get to school on time(not mentioning 0 hour classes). And the other half the year you're waking up right as sunrise is starting. Which is kind of how it works at a lot of jobs.

And like, dad's right about that.

But he's also voting for a lot of the people who are the reason behind this.

He mentioned how they're taking history out of schools, and he's right, but he's voting for the people doing it.

And it's so fucking disheartening, because he can see what's wrong, he knows fundamentally what's wrong. But he doesn't seem to realize who is doing it.

And I'm not sure what to do about it either. Because he gets so irrationally angry and defensive of the people he's voting for, and I live with him because I don't have any other options. So sitting down with him and talking just isn't an option right now.

[bokettochild]

I find myself in a conundrum

I've been working at a clothing store for over a year now. I was hired as part time but tend to work somewhat full time hours (roughly 35-40 hour weeks). I'm getting paid just short of $12 an hour and most of the work I do is very physical. There's a lot of folding clothes but I also work a lot with our shipment team.

When new stock arrives I count the boxes, wait for the manager to sign off on the delivery, and then it's my job to move all 200+ boxes from the delivery zone to the unpacking zone sorting them by department as I go. I then help to open the boxes either starting day of arrival or at 6 am the next day. I frequently help with moving large fixtures in the store, cleaning, and processing outgoing orders, as well as the standard upkeep of the store and working register. In short, I've picked up how to do anything that isn't a manager's duties.

But I'm barely saving anything for school.

My last job was for almost $11 an hour, and I would sit in a kid's jewelry store all day waiting for customers to come in. I still worked with reorganizing the store (often alone), processing incoming stock (receiving/unpacking/placing) and I still kept the store in order and cleaned, as well as piercing ears on weekends (It was a Claire's so yeah) and while the pay was a dollar shorter, I spent a good portion of my time at work writing fics because it was so darn slow! And I had manager approval to do that!

Thing is, they're hiring again at my old job, and offering $14 an hour to do the same job I used to do. Management has changed, so I don't know if it's as lax as when I worked there, and they're only looking for part time workers, but I'm technically part time now.

My issue is that I actually enjoy most of my work currently, and my coworkers and boss are all really great! The only issue is the pay, otherwise I wouldn't want to leave. But, I have bills to pay and keep having to dip into my college savings, so I really do need another job. The circumstances at Claire's weren't great, but we were also between managers and I hear it's really improved (from the current staff). It still has downsides, of course, but up-selling and piercing is less stress inducing then having to get credit cards every day in order to maintain standing (which I fail at). Talking down panicking kids is easier than de-escalating an Karen, and often involves the parent's help. It was generally a pretty chill job before, and I'm genuinely considering going back, as long as I can assure that I can get at least 30 hours a week. Besides that, I know they never open till 10 and they close by 7, so I wouldn't have any really early hours, I know how they operate, and I have previous experience so I might be able to land the job with ease (not that I didn't the first time).

I don't know!

On one hand, I have great co-workers and managers, I enjoy most of what I do and I'm assured plenty of hours on most weeks, so I'm averaging at least $1,000 a month. On the other hand, working the same number of hours at my old work place would bring me $1,200 instead, on average, and make things less tight (I could afford health insurance!). The issue is though that I won't be assured the great managers or co-workers I have, or a minimum of hours.

I think I might send in an application all the same though, get an interview, and see where things lay over there and what it would look like if I did, even if I didn't decide I wanted the job. It'd certainly be less physically intensive! Which is great because my knees keep giving out on me these days.

Honestly though, I hate uncertainties and having to change things, but this is a needed change. I need a new job, the only question is, is this really the best I could do?

[ameliagiovanna0]

✨️ Life update ✨️

Allow me to preface this by saying it's mostly good 😊

I have a tendency to dissappear for no reason in particular over hiatus, but I'd like to think I'm back now.

Anywho, I feel like bullet points it probably the most effective way to do this

Let's begin

Officially cancer free!!!! I go for a six month follow up ultrasound in a few weeks. If that looks good, I go another six months. Eventually, we'll move to one year follow ups. After treatment, I only have a 2% chance or reoccurrence, so I'm feeling pretty good about it 😊

My fatigue is still debilitating. I'm waiting on some blood work. I just need something, anything, to help. Caffeine makes me sick, and I need to be able to stay awake for more than five hours at a time

I'm back to college full time. 12 credits, for the moment. Chem is awful, as per usual. It's hell and I hate it, but I just want to get through it. Overall, I'm happy to be back though. I just want to get to the classes for my major

My mom and I are going to a concert for my birthday and I'm very excited

[dorky-zuko]

Have you ever thought of writing any atla fics?

this ask is one thousand years old, but that's fitting because the last time I wrote an avatar fic was one MILLION years ago, and it was very very bad

now that I'm back to writing fic again though, if I watched avatar another time, maybe I'd be compelled to write something?

The first time I watched avatar I was a kid and it was this legitimately *magical* show for me, because it aired seemingly at secret, completely random times (because kid me was too stupid to understand that shows had airing schedules). But then day of black sun happened, and it ended on a cliffhanger even though it WASN'T a season finale, and then they didn't release another new episode for over seven months, which is an eternity in kid time, so I figured the whole show had been CANCELED. I mourned, and eventually moved on. And then one day I was at my friend's house and I saw a bumper in between episodes of spongebob saying that TOMORROW, LESS THAN 24 CHRISTIAN HOURS FROM THAT EXACT MOMENT, this show I loved, that I thought had been CANCELLED without ANY resolution, would be airing TEN full episodes over like a four day period, culminating in a four part series finale that was destined to completely destroy me emotionally.

Imagine watching day of black sun, seeing the invasion fail, airship reveal, everyone's fucked, allies left behind, gaang flies away sad, credits roll, and then thinking, "okay, I guess that's just how the whole show ends." AND THEN, SEVEN MONTHS LATER, someone sits u down in front of a teevee without saying anything, and they just, play the second half of season three for you. It was like a real-life miracle had happened to kid me.

AND THEN, when I was in high school, they told us they'd be doing an entire sequel miniseries, 12 whole episodes about the new avatar in a steampunk setting!

AND THEN WHEN I WAS IN COLLEGE THEY TOLD ME THAT ACTUALLY THE "MINISERIES" WAS GOING TO BE A WHOLE SERIES AND THEY'D BE DOING THREE MORE SEASONS!!!

AND THEN IT GAY ENDED??????

basically the avatar universe is this magical thing that is almost a little too scarily important to me to be something I could just casually stick my writer self into.

Still, could be fun. Maybe someday..... :)

[staghunters]

hey hey! 2, 8, 12, 14

hoi hoi!

2. Oldest book you own (as in the one you received earliest in your life)

This one!

I got it from my grandpa one pakjesavond (sinterklaas/the dutch boxing day) when I must've been around 8 years old? I can recommend it, though it is very much a children's book in that there is a lot of exposition that feels overdone at times. Still, it's got "fairy tales are real but a bit fucked up in this world", fairies with double agenda's, sibling love, a shapeshifter who's definitely queer in some way shape or form!!, and the main character is basically like an Indiana Jones but for fairy tale artefacts (hijinks included) on the background is this large-scale political conflict that makes it all very witcher-y.

You might know this author from Inkheart, btw! This one has also been translated into english.

8. Best cover

A tie between these two!

I got them both last year on my bday credit at the store and haven't read either of them, but they look very nice. The Bale one is a hardcover that has gold details, but just the whole composition of it all is perfect.

12. Weirdest book you own

Definitely "The making of The African Queen, or, How I went to Africa with Bogart, Bacall, and Huston and almost lost my mind" by Katherine Hepburn.

I couldn't get it anywhere physically except as an second-hand library edition from the states (shoutout to Boston Baptist College Library!) but read it beforehand on internet archive because you can borrow it there for free! It's just a personal account of making a movie, but Katherine Hepburn is hilarious. It really reads like you're sitting with her and she has to vent about this stupid flick she did but wowza. Please let the following passage convince you to check it out. The full thing is only 150~ pages long.

14. A book you love but wouldn’t really recommend to others

HEX by Thomas Olde Heuvelt! (I don't have the cover below but really like it so ordered it at work just now asjdkfhlsd)

It was review bombed big time on Goodreads. On some points I could see the validity, but there's something really cool going on in here but that either doesn't translate well cross-culture, or is in general a bit ambiguous. The climax and ending is WILD. Not in a way of "wow some crazy fucked up shit happens here", which it kinda does, but I'm talking fucked up like a Hieronymus Bosch painting, and not like SAW.

I believe Olde Heuvelt did change some things to make it more understandable for american audiences, while sticking close to what he meant in the dutch version. Putting the town in the Hudson Valley as opposed to somewhere near Nijmegen makes sense, but still doesn't cover the typical "dutch small town" feeling from the original, particularly because of how densely populated my country is, making the whole curse that confines you to your super small old town forever till you die thing a lot more frustrating when everything modern and big is within a half hour drive.

Anyways, if you'd still want a rec: A town (name might vary but it's called Black Spring in the american edition) is haunted by the figure of a 17th century witch. the gist of her curse is that anyone who stays in the town for too long or is born there will have to stay till they die, only being able to leave for short amounts of time. Over the years there's been a sort of witch-watch task-force that keeps track of the witch's movements (she otherwise doesn't really do anything). All goes well until some teen boys want to fuck around for a nice video to post online.

Bookish Asks

[qqueenofhades]

Hi! This is not relevant to your current political discussions at all and you def don't have to answer this! But you're the only person I know who is an Academic™ and I was hoping for some input from somebody with a more balanced view of college education. For some context: I enrolled in a VERY shitty online college when I was 16 and entirely screwed my chances of getting freshman scholarships to other colleges now that I'm 18 and trying to switch schools. Additionally, that college only has national accreditation and not regional so my credits won't transfer anywhere and my family's EFC is too high to get any federal help. (but my parents don't actually have money to help me pay for school)

All of this puts me in a super fun situation where I can't get almost anything except for competitive private scholarships and student loans. So it seems like I have 2 options: (1) I could take out thousands in student loans to go to a cheap university out of state (living with my brother to save on dorming) and get my bachelor's degree or (2) Go to my local community college, try to get their institutional scholarships, and probably get through college without debt. Big downside to this is that I would probably end up living at home and that's the very last thing I wanted.

I'm obvs not asking you to make a decision for me, but I was hoping you'd have some input that could help. I'm really worried that if I go to cc that I'll end up in another dead end job making $12 an hour like most people around me, but I also don't know if 20k+ in student loan debt for a degree is worth it when college degrees are (according to the headlines) getting less valuable in the job market. Any thoughts??

P.s. I'm going for Business Management

P.p.s. I promise I'm not a capitalistic monster

Aha, welp. This is indeed a super fun situation (not), and I understand your dilemma, so let's see if we can think it through together.

As someone else who was also DESPERATE to get away from home and live elsewhere during college, I understand the feeling that living at home, and/or attending a community college, would be a terrible disappointment. However, while you might not qualify for federal student aid or government programs, there is often other funding available to help students like you. It might not be full-scholarship-level money, but if you search for educational/student resources for your city/state and see what comes up, you might be presented with some other options. There are foundations, grants, funds to help students who fell through the financial-aid cracks, and while it might not cover everything and you would still have to end up taking out some loans, it would at least be a boost. Competitive private scholarships are often awarded on merit, which can be tough and feel like there's no way you'll measure up, but there ARE community organizations and local lawyers/advocates/educational professionals who are able to help and/or get you some award money on a need basis. So yes, do a little Google digging and see what comes up. Of course, you need to make sure that these resources are legitimate and not like the crappy online college, but that can be done.

Likewise, and while I fully understand that my 18-year-old self would have HATED to hear this: getting through college without debt is not to be underestimated, even if it means you have to live at home for a few more years. If you have to get an associate's degree and possibly work part-time while you're doing it, well, that is an option and might even allow you to save a little money (instead of emerging from college dead-broke like uh, most people). While community college is sometimes looked down on as a "lesser" or "inferior" education (which is stupid), that certainly doesn't mean it has to be a dead end, especially if you take advantage of career counseling, liaisons with local businesses or internship placements, and in general seek opportunities outside of just your main program. There are certainly ways to be proactive about getting both a classroom and a practical education, even if it's not the original degree program or school that you saw yourself attending, so yeah.

Also: you mention attending a cheap university out of state, but is there anything in-state that might work for you? Public universities generally offer lower tuition to in-state residents, so if you do have your heart set on moving away from home and getting a bachelor's degree, you could still explore what options might be available to you in a state university system. You should also email admissions, financial aid, or student-services officers at those institutions, explain your situation, and see what they suggest. They might have internal resources that they can connect you with, you might be able to use high school grades to qualify for some school-specific scholarship money, or anything else. You would be surprised what can happen if you take the initiative and ask for it, because there are certainly plenty of resources inside a university that don't get advertised or public-faced, but are there to be used in some shape or form.

Anyway: these are things for you to think about, and to at least give you something to do to make sure that you've explored all your options before deciding one way or the other. I will say that getting a college degree without debt is something that you should definitely consider, even if it means you might be at home for a few more years (and believe me, I ABSOLUTELY understand the "I've got to get out now!!!" feeling and I know it sucks). But there are certainly other resources for you to explore if you do want to get a bachelor's, and if worse comes to worse, well, you'll have student debt. Lots of other people do as well, and there are flexible repayments, income-driven repayments, and other systems for managing it long-term. It's not ideal, but it's still an option and doesn't have to be the ultimate factor on you deciding what works best and what you want to do.

Good luck!

[weathernerdmando]

Job searching for full time is SO frustrating right now. Everyone hiring wants experience for ENTRY FREAKING LEVEL, or $1000+ certifications.

When was I supposed to get this? While working while in school so I could pay bills? How was I supposed to afford those certificates when I was paying for my car, my credit cards, and various medical debts? I can't work three fucking jobs, and I'm counting school as a part time because I was in class for 12-15 hours of credit a semester and that's a lot of time and work, and then i was working my other 20-30+ hour job. I literally couldn't work a third.

How the hell are you supposed to get a basic, entry level job?! Like, those are supposed to be for folks with no experience so they can be trained?! And I technically have experience - I worked for my college! I self taught myself web development stuff and that's how I got that job! But it was only 9 months or so and that's not helping AT ALL.

Ugh. This job market right now, I'm so tired of this.

[creepyscritches]

Like, I grew up with a single parent who went MILES beyond expectations to secure me medical care and it was a horrible, demeaning process at every step! You could NOT "good behavior" your way to the system working. There were countless moving finish lines and a faceless wall of state insurance that did not care how often or how high they asked you to jump.

My father was not interested in paying for my health insurance after he dropped my mother and me like hot stones. So my mother did not have many choices when it became clear I was not well. I spent most of my early life undiagnosed and severely decompensated and, you guessed it, extremely suicidal. It wasn't until I was 26 or 27 that I experienced a day without pain, and I fought my way there the entire time.

I managed to graduate high school with honors, cords for the art honor society, and with all of my college-level English knocked out my senior year through dual-enrollement. I also taught intro level art at the high school, student-taught art at the middle school, student tutored trigonometry, and spent my remaining time in the art rooms completing the soldering on a giant stained glass installment we made for the school. Through this time, I also learned as many art techniques as I could (film photography and lost wax sculpture being my favorites). I also worked most holidays and school breaks in a kennel, spending 12 hour shifts handling non-social dogs.

By senior year, I was stashing coffee throughout my destinations each day. I was so tired I couldn't sit up. My body hurt, but doctors we could see would simply brush me off as a lazy teenager. I had a tumor under my tongue that kept returning and becoming more expensive to address. I had to lose a rear molar due to infection that eroded my jaw bone -- it took 2 years for the bone to regrow before I could entertain any options of replacing the tooth. I am 15. I am 16. I am 17.

I am 18. Despite having no money, I finally get some payoff for my efforts. I am awarded a full ride scholarship, I even get enough money back each semester to fully cover my books. I have to work a campus job as a part of the agreement and I spend 6hrs a week manning the liberal arts front desk between my +12hrs of classes. That's fine. I knew I was never going to have an easy road to education. I join the honors college and place my science + language credits there. My 7pm biology lab is the only reason I did not work my second job one day a week.

I am 18. I am working. I am learning. I am extremely ill but have been conditioned to call myself lazy, unmotivated, and the reason for my failures. I am not ill, not to me. I am 18. I work an overnight, 16 hour shift for Black Friday. I do not see family this year. My tumor returns. I quit my second job in December because I could not talk to customers after surgery. The doctor tells me I will have a scar as long as my jaw if it returns again.

I am 18. I am in pieces. My partner breaks up with me because I do not give them enough attention. I work until 10pm every day and spend the preceding 12 hours in rigorous college courses. Every day but my 7pm Biology lab, but I am too tired to spend time with someone that day. I do not have room in me to care about this now too. I finish my second semester and do not return. I cannot move my body and I cannot get accommodations because I cannot afford a diagnosis. I leave the full ride behind.

I am 19. I am supporting myself with freelance art. My body suffers deeply for this. I cannot get care. I find a chiropractor who will see me for $50 a visit and she saves me from killing myself if I'm honest. I begin teaching myself the ICD-9. I get certified and get a job the same month as my certification.

I am 20. I have moved out, my mother was moving as well. I am working, still sick. I cannot get care anywhere now as I am over 18, under 26, but my parent with insurance will not cover me. I work at my job for a year before I am fired for health complications. As a contractor, I did not get benefits or protections. This is just the way it is, they explain to me.

I am 21. I have picked up a new job, still contract over a year in despite the promise of full-time after 8 months. The job holds my insurance over my head like a carrot. I start to lose motion in my left arm. Pain now wakes me up on a nightly basis. I threaten to quit, they transition me from "external" to "internal" contractor. No benefits.

I am 21. I have forced my employer to hire me full-time. I am paid significantly less than my peers, despite experience. I get benefits. I pay $4000 out of pocket, but get my first diagnosis of narcolepsy. I do not get adequate medication until 4 years later.

I am 22. Physical therapy had been trying to fix my left arm, but things keep worsening. I receive a couple of painful steroid injections over my ulnar nerve (between the elbow). These do not work, so I am brought in for an ultrasound guided injection where the needle is woven between my bones and nurses physically hold me in place per protocol. This does nothing, but it is one of the most agonizing procedures I have ever had. I am rushed into a rheumatologist's roster after lesions in my bone marrow are found on MRI. The MRI took 3 attempts over a month as the pose required would reduce me to delirious levels of pain.

I am 22. I am told I have an autoimmune disease that has been running rampant for years. I begin oral chemotherapy. I vomit constantly. I do not improve. My doctor does not believe me when I say I cannot tolerate this medication. I do not get a name for my diagnosis, no matter how I press. I have multiple conditions submitted to insurance, but my doctor claims it is to get the different medications covered.

I am 27. I am accepted into Vanderbilt's cutting edge rheumatology department. I have SLE and my previous doctor's regimen had been consistently worsening my baseline condition. I am $15,000 in debt for medicine that ultimately was poisoning me.

I am 29 now. I have a body for the first time in my life. The opportunities I have now are unbelievable. The opportunities I missed are devastating. My body and health have been used as bartering chips my entire life. I am a "lucky" outcome. I cannot swallow this pill that this is the only way people can live here. No one will be demeaned like I was if I have any control over it. I will never minimize the incredible change the ACA brought to everyone here.

I cannot stress enough that the gap between "better than nothing insurance" and "no healthcare at all" is literally one big enough for your coffin. That is unacceptable, I refuse this. The only reason I have been motivated to learn the bureaucratic bullshit required for American health care is to shovel this gap closed, one shovel of dirt at a time. YEAH, I would love to be a middle school art teacher but I think I have been changed too much from these experiences to walk away from the state of American health care.

I find talent to help me and I protect it, elevate it, and encourage it to multiply. I have a mentor helping me do the same. I am learning the ACA industry still, mostly to identify problem points around me. I am 29, I am building like-minded spaces around me. I refuse to see another generation live like mine and those before. Sign up for the ACA.

Growing up pre-ACA radicalized me soooo much lol like I will not pander to arguments that deprioritize access to medical care at all as an adult

[in-superbloom]

did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen? (a.i.)

right where you left me: prologue

pairing: ashton irwin x olivia jones (oc)

warnings: uhh a kinda grieving theme i guess? but no deaths. it has a sad tone overall, but nothing major (in this chapter hehe). foul language because i can't help myself. the tiniest mention of alcohol, but as a memory. think i should probably warn you that this contains a very sad ash. also not much dialogues. this is mainly for explanation and introduction, but very important for the story. if you find anything else that might be triggering, please let me know so i can add it here !!

author's note: oof okay. so. this is the prologue of a series very very dear to my heart that i've been working on for what it feels like my whole life but really it's been just a few months. but i'm in love with the story (which rarely happens with my own writing) so i hope you can enjoy it too !! this is also my very first time posting a fic since 2013 so pls keep that in mind <3 no i am not shaking as type this ofc not also: although i have the full story ready in my head, this is the only chapter that's written. i wanted to wait until i had at least a few ready before posting this but i'm too anxious for that lmao just saying this bc it will take a good while until i have any more chapters, so <3 (p.s.: i went over this thing a million times since may so if you find any errors pls look away, i'm not fixing this thing anymore. thanks <3)

another note: anna from the future here to say that i completely forgot about the playlist i made for the story lmao here it is in case you're interested k thanks bye <3

credits: title is from taylor swift's song right where you left me. model in the picture: paola locatelli. banner by me.

i also wanted to take a minute to thank some really nice friends that i've made here over these past few months & that i'm extremely grateful for @wastelandcth @suchalonelysunflower @littledrummerangie i cannot thank you babes enough for inspiring me the way that you do & for letting me yell about this to you && for encouraging me so much 🥺 i'll never be able to explain just how much this means to me, so i'll have to settle for saying thank you at any change that i can get <3 i love you all 💜 also gem my baby, thank you for the inspo with the banner 💚

@bluesdelis look babe i did it 😌 you know how grateful i am for you & for you letting me have a breakdown every week about my writing for the past 8 years so let's not dive into that or else i will write something bigger than this prologue jsjsjdjd love you 🖤

i hope you all have a good reading and a nice day ♡

let me know what are your thoughts about the fic ! ♡

word count: 4.1k

☆☆☆

Cold. That was the first thing that Olivia’s brain processed.

Still with her eyes closed, she buried herself more into the duvet, while her arm blindly reached for the furnace in human form that she calls boyfriend. However, as soon as her arm was only met with cold sheets, her eyes shot open.

Blinking the sleep away, she sat up on the bed, searching for the infamous red clock resting on Ashton’s bedside table that was supposed to look like a vintage alarm clock. Olivia had ordered it online at an auction website a couple of years back, as a gift for his 23rd birthday, since it was something he had mentioned multiple times prior that he was looking for, but still hadn't found. But when it finally came in (two weeks after the due date), it looked nothing like the picture she saw on the website. Feeling beyond frustrated, she wanted to send it back immediately and ask for a refund and maybe leave a not so polite review on the seller's page. But Ashton stopped her right away, laughing like the situation was absolutely hilarious to him, while saying, 'I like it, it’s quirky'. So, the clock stayed and found a home right next to him in their room.

Some days, however, she would wake up at some ungodly hour because of the blaring noise of the only ringtone the clock had. But whatever annoyance she could feel towards the object, it always vanished as soon as she felt Ashton's lips gently touching her face in a good morning kiss before he would get up to start his day, leaving her to catch some more hours of well deserved sleep.

As the furthest from a morning person as a touring musician could possibly be, Olivia had always feared that living under the same roof as Ashton would turn her into an early bird like him, but she's thankful that it never happened (not that he needs to know about that).

When she sees the red clock, she smiles at the sudden but welcome memories of them flooding her foggy brain, but frowns slightly when she realizes it reads 12:13 pm. Ashton rarely lets her sleep past 10 am.

Gathering all her strength and will, she rises up from the bed, smoothly picking up a grey wool sweatshirt from the chair (way too baggy on her slim body, but it smells like him), pulling it over her head and relishing on the soft material warming up her body. Making her way to the door and calmly going down the stairs, she can’t help but stop for a minute to admire the picture frames on their walls, one in particular catches her attention – probably one of the most prized pictures and memories they had. It felt older than it actually is, but it was around 4 years ago, she's sure – a little while after the two of them met. The picture was of their group of friends that still remains the same: Ashton and his best friend, Luke; Olivia, her best friend, Calum and their old hometown friend, turned into Calum’s new friend at college, turned into everyone’s friend, Michael; and her then newly band members, Suki, Eli and Ravi. Together, their group was the life of the party through all their college years, and it showed by the big smiles and drinks in hands they all had in the picture. It was a very special night, the first time Olivia’s little band played for the public – for a small audience sure, but it was a wonderful night nonetheless. What a long road it had been since that night.

Her nostalgic thoughts were interrupted by a shiver that went through her whole body, and it made her realize how oddly cold the whole house was, not only their bedroom. Which, granted, it was November in New York and the weather was just getting colder, but that’s exactly why Ashton always made sure to keep the house warm enough. As much as she loved the chilly season, the warm weather always reminded him of his hometown, and who was she to deny him that?

The smell of fresh made coffee could be sensed even before she reached the kitchen. Arriving there, the curly haired woman still found no signs of her boyfriend, so she went straight after the coffee maker pot sitting on the far left corner of the cream marble counter. Smiling softly at the tons of memories of Ashton's sleepy figure making their favorite beverage, she reached for a coffee mug on the cupboard on top of the counter and poured the remainder of the hot liquid on it (it's her favorite mug, if she must choose – it was a gift from a fan, and it had printed on it a collage of the pictures of her and Ashton that were posted on social media through their first year of relationship).

Moving to the glass doors that lead to the mini garden they cultivate, she didn't have to open them to spot the 6-feet-tall man sitting on a bench outside, looking oddly small in his oversized clothes, coffee mug tightly held between strong hands. Something about his figure made Olivia frown, however: he was staring with an unwavering look at her small but eye-catching pot of yellow daffodils that were almost as much of a pet to them as Stitch at this point. Sensing that there’s something definitely off about his semblance, she made a mental note to talk to him and find out what’s wrong later. So she goes back to the kitchen, knowing that he might need this quiet and private moment for himself.

She lost count of the minutes that went by (couldn't have been more than five) before she hears the garden's door opening and closing, and then his bare feet are dragging his brawny body to her. Except, he goes over to the sink, walking right through her, not showing any sign that he even saw her hunched figure over the counter table in the middle of the room.

Alright, someone's in a mood.

Olivia tries to swallow the annoyance already bubbling inside her – he knows how much she hates to be ignored, no matter how mad he might be – by trying to think of what she can say that won't piss him off. This is always a hard feat to accomplish when Ashton gets in these moods, but there’s a reason for them to work so well together.

“I missed my favorite body heater when I woke up,” she says in her best sweet voice, knowing how quickly his resolve crumbles when he hears that voice.

Still, no reaction.

That settles a worry at the pit of her stomach, because Ashton is never like this. Even when he's not in the mood to talk, he always gives some kind of reaction to her words; it doesn't matter how small, just enough to make her feel acknowledged.

When he's finished washing his mug and the few scattered dishes across the sink – she noticed that he already had lunch, if the lone plate in the drying rack is anything to go by –, he dries his hand in a towel, turns around and throws it on top of the same counter Olivia was leaning up against. Once again, he walks away not even sparing her a look.

Indignant, she leaves the now empty coffee mug on top of the table and follows him as he walks up the stairs, any determination to not aggravate his mood now well gone.

“Hey! In case you didn't notice, I'm right here. Whatever got you in this sour mood, I'm certainly not to blame, so can you stop being a child now and talk to me?!”

Ashton just keeps walking – more like sluggishly dragging his body – until he reaches their bedroom and suddenly stops just merely two feet inside the room, looking around with vacant eyes; like he was expecting to see something that wasn't there.

“Okay, that's really mature of you. Are you planning on ignoring me all day then?” Olivia questions exasperated, staring angrily at the back of his neck, where the condor tattoo lives – her favorite of his, but that sight doesn't bring her any peace today like it usually does.

Her glare only breaks when she hears the familiar sound of dog tags swaying on her right side. Shifting her gaze to the direction of the sound, Olivia notices Stitch, their small, black & white French bulldog – who she thought was outside in the garden – slowly trudging his way from around the bed until he stops at Ashton's feet, looking up at one of his humans with sad eyes. That realization only makes the worry in her stomach grow uncomfortably.

“Hi buddy,” Ashton's voice cracks a bit from the lack of use, but he smiles softly at the sweet dog, and crouches down to pet him.

Olivia can't help but gasp as she notices three things all at once that leave her overwhelmed: first, how she didn't even notice Stitch was in the room when she woke up – which never ever happens, in fact, most days he wakes her up whenever he deems her bedtime as finished and can't ever contain his excitement when she finally gets up; second, how the windows blinds are closed, which, again, rarely occurs under their roof, not if Ashton can help it. And third, how sad and melancholic the whole scene in front of her is – how sad and melancholic Ashton is. Pointless to say by now – that's also a very rare occasion.

A chill creeps up Olivia's spine, putting her body into high alert and also serving as a reminder of how everything looks out of place today. Trying to keep her head from spiraling down way too soon, she wraps her arms around herself and crouches down beside her two favorite boys, trying once more.

“Ash? Can you hear me?” even with her throat closing, she softly asks, purposefully putting her face in Ashton's point of view. Her only answer is the low whispers he's letting out to Stitch, while cradling the tiny dog in his arms, spreading gentle kisses on his head.

“I know, bud, I know. I miss her too,” is the only whisper she could understand and immediately wishes she hadn't. The weak wail that comes from Stitch's throat seems to fit perfectly with how the three of them feel.

Ashton then looks up and for a couple of seconds, and Olivia can swear he’s staring right into her eyes. But when he shows no reaction, she knows he’s just staring ahead and not at her, with that look that says there’s too much going on inside his head. She feels the urge to embrace him and get him to talk about whatever is on his mind, so they can share that weight like they always do, but when Ashton gets up from the ground and settles on the bed with Stitch, Olivia can physically feel the crack in her heart caused by the feeling she’s left with.

While Ashton is pulling the duvet over him and the dog, with clearly no intentions of getting up anytime soon, Olivia stands up on her feet with a new-found determination – she needs to figure out what the hell is going on.

This nightmare had to be just that, right? Nothing but a very vivid dream – she's had those before. Scary sure, but they always go away, and soon enough she's back into Ashton's arms, with Stitch jumping on the bed ready to lick their faces off. She just needs to wake herself up from whatever fucked up dream this is – right?

She's running down the stairs this time, frantically in search of something, of what exactly, she doesn’t know – but she knows she needs an answer. The more she looks for something, the more desperate she gets, not knowing what to look for. Then suddenly, something catches her eyes.

The white and blue calendar that's held up by magnets on the side of the fridge. She knows their calendar is red and yellow. They got it from their favorite flower market. Slowly, as if scared of what it might be there – “It's just a calendar, for fucks sake” – she approaches the damn thing. Upon inspection, she deems it as a normal calendar – she really doesn't know what she was expecting – until.

She knows what's wrong with it now.

It's November. She knows it, because the Asian and last leg of her first world tour is about to begin November 21st, eleven days from today. Right after Mike's birthday, she knows this.

Then why does the calendar say today is January 14th?

☆ ☆ ☆

Ashton woke up with a jolt. He quickly sat up, frightening the little Frenchie that was asleep right next to him on the bed. Trying to make sense of his surroundings, he roughly rubbed his face to get some sleep off of it and soon reached for the dog that was staring at him with sleepy but sad eyes. Ashton is sure Stitch understands far more than a dog is supposed to understand about their current situation.

The room is covered in shadows, almost pitch black, but he can see the sunlight even through the thick dark grey blinds covering up the windows. Ashton knows he won't be able to sleep again at that moment, so he gets up from the bed – much slower than he used to. His heartbeat is still out of control because of the nightmare that woke him up, but he can't bother to pay attention to it when Stitch is softly wailing beside him. Ashton lets out a ghost of a smile when the dog rests his head on his right upper thigh, looking up at him with an expression Ashton knows all too well.

“C'mon you little ravenous creature, let's feed you,” the bulldog excitedly jumps to the ground, already running his way down the stairs, not even waiting for Ashton to get up.

That gets a real smile out of him, but it vanishes as soon as he glances at the alarm clock on his bedside table. It reads 5:13 am, nothing out of the ordinary for him. But that small and inoffensive clock, with its red paint peeling off, holds a lot of memories for him. Memories that two months ago would bring joy to his heart, but now he almost wants to throw the object across the room.

It was a stupid thing, really. He had been wanting a vintage alarm clock and Olivia got one for his birthday. But the product they received was definitely not the one she bought, and if he's being honest, he didn't like it as much as he made out to. But seeing her so excited in the weeks before it arrived, and how disappointed she was when it did, he couldn't help but try his best to make her smile that luminous smile again. It's part of his nature by now.

That's also the reason why he lets her think that he doesn't notice when she wakes up at some ungodly hour (her words, not his) along with him, because of the annoying and only sound the alarm clock is able to produce. He always leaves soft kisses in every inch of bare skin he can find on her sleeping figure, so she goes back to the dream land and doesn't wake up before 10 am. No one wants to deal with that kind of bad humor, not even him.

As much as he likes being a morning person and absolutely enjoys her company in the mornings, he knows she'll take any and every extra hour of sleep she can get before starting the day. And that's why he loves that she's so stubborn that his early bird tendencies never got to her – he knows she feared that this would happen when they moved in together, but he met her like this, fell for her like this. He wouldn't change a single thing about her.

Ashton drags himself out of the bed, wincing slightly at how cold the wooden floors are under his bare feet. He doesn't bother putting some socks on, or a sweater – the cold weather in the house is uncharacteristically comforting to him. Nothing feels warm without her anyway.

While descending the stairs, he mentally curses himself for not being strong enough to look past the picture frames on the wall. One in particular catches his eyes – a picture from the night of Olivia's first concert with her band. The memories of that night are still painfully vivid in his mind: the laughter among their group that eventually infected everyone at the pub, Suki and Luke's first kiss and the silly smile that didn't leave his best friend's face all night, the standing ovation Olivia got after her three-songs set, and her captivating and breathtaking smile that made him realize right then and there, while watching her sway to the music, that he was definitely falling in love with her and there was nothing he could do to stop it – not that he wanted to.

So many memories held up on that wall, in the relatively short time since they met, that he can't help but wonder if that's all they'll get in this lifetime.

Ashton is abruptly taken out of his thoughts by Stitch's barks coming from the bottom of the stairs. He quickly jogs down the few steps left and goes straight after the dog's food in the kitchen's cabinet. After Stitch starts to happily devour his breakfast, Ashton goes to make his coffee, doing enough for two people like he always does, since Calum drops by most days for a chat or to drop Duke before going to work. Although all three of them know he just can't bother to make food for himself in the morning, while Ashton is the group's elected chef. Ashton always says he just needs a boyfriend – Olivia says Calum already has one who makes him breakfast every day.

He grabs an apple from the fridge and makes his way outside to their garden. Even though a lot of their memories took place there, the garden is the only space in the house where he doesn't feel like suffocating all the time. At least here, he can breathe some fresh air and look at the sky when he's feeling overwhelmed – which is basically all he's been doing for about a month now.

Yet, a lot of the garden has Olivia's name written all over.

He remembers vividly the day she came home after spending two weeks in LA doing some pocket shows, with a pack of daffodil seeds and the largest smile. She excitedly told him that a friend gifted it to her when she mentioned the little garden they were planning to build together at their new house. The friend told Olivia that daffodils symbolize rebirth and new beginnings, so as the good lover of symbolism that she is, Olivia loved the idea of having those flowers to symbolize their new beginning.

Ashton, on the other hand, wasn't a fan of the flowers at first – he just didn't see the appeal to them. But nonetheless, he indulged her, letting Olivia plant the seeds near the bench they used to sit during the quiet and unrushed afternoons, so they could admire the sunset, and she could happily look at the daffodils.

Pointless to say – the damn flowers grew on him.

Now, however, looking at them without Olivia and her contagious joy next to him, they were back to be as dull as they were before, if not more so.

Still lost inside his head without any sense of how much time went by since he sat down, Ashton doesn't hear the front door closing, and doesn't notice that he's no longer the only person inside the house until someone sits next to him on the bench. Yet, he doesn't show any sign of acknowledgement to them.

A few minutes go by before either of them speaks up.

“Luke said you didn't go to see her yesterday,” Calum starts softly, not wanting to disturb the calmness of the morning.

Ashton takes a few seconds to respond, “No point in doing that.” The black haired man licks his lips while thinking carefully about his next words.

“You know staying inside this house all day by yourself won't help either,” Calum turns his head to his left and takes a good look at Ashton's uncharacteristically hunched over figure, and immediately thinks that anyone can tell this man is not himself anymore. His second thought is that Olivia would hate seeing him like this.

“And what exactly do you expect me to do? Move on with my life like nothing happened? Like I'm not slowly and painfully losing the love of my life? Just because it’s easy for you doesn't mean it's easy for me.”

Calum closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He knows Ashton doesn't mean it, it's the anger and frustration talking. He knows it. Doesn't make it sting any less.

“I'm not telling you to move on with your life, because that's far from what I'm doing, and I certainly don't expect you to do it. I'm just saying you need to occupy your mind or else–”

“I'll go insane? Think it's a bit too late for that,” Ashton interrupts with a bitter tone that doesn't belong to his usual chirpy voice.

“You know it's not,” Calum sighs and drinks the rest of his coffee, moving his body slightly, so he's facing the blonde man, “I got a job interview for you at that school you talked about so much last summer, the principal said you can go any day this week. I went ahead and sent her your resume as well as explained everything that she needs to know about Olivia, so you don't have to. You just gotta put on some decent clothes and show up.” he sees Ashton's face softening a little and takes it as a victory. A few beats go by and then, “Maybe take a shower too. That's gonna make you feel better.” Calum leans in closer to his friend's personal space and takes a sniff, causing Ashton to deflect from him slightly, but not to push him away – another small win.

“Definitely take a shower, you stink. When was the last time your hair saw shampoo?”

“Fuck off,” is Ashton's only reply to the younger man's inquest. But Calum can see a smile creeping up on the blonde's face, which brings out a smile of his own.

“I'll send you all the details later today,” he checks the hour on the watch on his wrist and gets up, “Just please, Ash, go. I can't lose you too.”

Calum gently lays a hand on Ashton's shoulder and squeezes a little. The man doesn't look up, but gives a curt nod to his friend, who's satisfied enough. Calum stops on the threshold of the garden glass doors to give some kisses to Stitch – who came to make Ashton company as soon as he finished his food –, and then he puts the coffee mug on the dishwater. And soon enough, he's on his way out of the door. But not before snatching a tangerine from the fridge.

Ashton is left by himself once again. As he hears the sound of the front door closing, he thinks that this might be his life from now on. Just him and Stitch, trying their hardest to make it through another miserable day without the love of their lives. While everyone else comes by just to make sure he's still breathing. Breathing, maybe, but alive?

Swallowing the tears, he looks up at the sky. It's a deep, beautiful mix of orange, pink and blue, but he knows that it won't last long and soon the rain will be pouring down. He thinks about how much Olivia loves the rain.

God, he needs to pull himself together. She would hate to see him like this. Maybe he should take Calum's offer after all, he really needs to occupy his mind.

Making a mental note to thank Calum later, and also to apologize for how rude he was to him this morning, Ashton slowly gets up from the bench to put his mug on the sink and makes his way to the living room, with the small dog loyally following his every step. He puts on some cartoon that for once doesn't remind him of her (she always lovingly made fun of him for still watching those) and cuddles with Stitch on the couch. He can take a shower later.

Not half an hour goes by, he falls asleep and has a good dream for a change. He dreams of the days he spent with Olivia in the Philippines last February, right before her first world tour started. Some of the most magical days of their lives – surrounded by delicious food, a whole new culture to learn about and the warmth of the sun. Infinite counted days full of love and passion, where they were the only people in the world.

Even his subconscious knows to hold on to that brief moment of happiness, because he might never live that again.

[shipskicksandgiggles]

15 with irondad? I just feel like that'd be so fricken funny skfjdkd 😂💗💗

okay the funniest thing about this prompt is that it was a genuine conversation I had with a dude in one of my classes. we were talking about our favorite superheroes and I said mine was Iron Man and this asshole decided to antagonize me by saying his was Captain America. like he had a shield and everything that’s how much he loved Cap. and I’ll be damned if I know how we got to this point, but I figured out he had no clue what his actual name was. he knew who Chris Evans was but not Steve Rogers. so obviously I snapped back with this and he said yes. that was only of the greatest conversations I had all semester and it was like 2 weeks in

now I won’t lie. I struggled with this prompt bcuz I had no fucking idea how to not make this weird and creepy. so finally after thinking about it for 12 hours, it looks like I’m writing Stony for the first time ever. no that’s not a joke check my ao3 I have never written stony this is weird

so anyways. superparents anyone?

ao3 link if you prefer

15. “So let me get this straight. You want to suck Captain America’s dick, but you can’t be bothered to remember his full name?”

Steve had been on a mission for the better part of two weeks, and it had taken its toll. Tony missed his husband, and Peter missed his dad. 

It’s for that reason that the latter couldn’t sleep most nights. Peter was used to saying goodnight to both his dad and his papa before he started getting ready for bed, and that always went with a kiss on the temple from Tony and a hug that was at least 1 full minute long from Steve. It was hard to go without, especially for so long. 

He still got a kiss from Tony, but he couldn’t sleep yet again. It was closing in on 2am now. 

Peter sighed and got up, resigned to walking around their floor until he felt… less restless, he supposed. 

Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only one with that idea.

“Bambino?” Tony asked. “Why are you up, kiddo?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Peter admitted. “You?”

“Same here.” Tony sighed. “You miss your dad?”

Peter nodded, and Tony opened his arms. “He’ll be home soon, sweetheart. I’m half tempted to sue Fury since he shouldn’t be gone from his family this long, but you know he loves his job.”

“I know,” Peter muttered, accepting his papa’s hug. “Doesn’t make it easier.”

Tony guided them to the couch and sat down. “Yeah, I know it doesn’t. But he’s out there for us. For you, kiddo.”

He nodded again, and the two lapsed into silence. 

After a few moments, Tony spoke. “Wanna watch a movie?”

“Can we watch WALL-E?”

“Sure kid, but don’t tell DUM-E, deal?”

“Deal.”

JARVIS queued up the movie and dimmed the lights. 

They were mostly quiet throughout the movie, with a few laughs, sniffles, and comments of ‘I could have built that so much better’ followed by ‘I know, papa.’

The credits rolled, and they continued to sit in silence for a little longer. 

“Everything okay Pete?”

“Yeah.” He paused. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything sweetheart.” Tony turned to give his attention to his son. “What’s on your mind?”

“How did you know you wanted to marry dad?”

“Oh well that’s an interesting one. You want the long version, or the short one?”

“Long version, I guess. I'm just curious.”

Tony stretched and looked at the fireplace. Their wedding photos were perched in the mantle, right next to Peter’s baby pictures. 

“Well, I suppose if you want the long version, you’d actually be able to track it all the way back to the 80s. When I was in college, I realized I was bi, and honestly Rhodey probably remembers this better than me. But one night we got drunk, which terrible of us being underaged at the time, but I’m here to teach you to do better-“

“Papa,” Peter warned. 

“Right, anyways so,” Tony cleared his throat. “We got to talking about stuff, and I mentioned realizing I liked boys when I saw Captain America in my dad’s old files from the War. He was obsessed with trying to find Steve, even then. The comics did nothing to match what your dad really looked like. I was obsessed with his jawline. And his body. And his face wasn’t half bad either.” He laughed. 

“Rhodey though was the worst about it because I totally forgot his name. He was only ever ‘Captain’ to me. So he turns to me and says- well honestly I shouldn’t repeat it to you, moving on-“

“Papa, I’m 17. I’ve heard you swear before, and I know what sex is if it’s about that. Even if I’m grossed out, I still want to know.” 

Tony gasped. “My child! Who has corrupted you?”

“Shut up and tell me, jerk.”

“Gosh, you’re rude. You get it from your uncle.” Tony rolled his eyes. “This is absolutely disgusting, but Rhodey turned to me when he realized I didn’t know his name and goes, ‘So let me get this straight. You want to suck Captain America’s dick, but you can’t be bothered to remember his full name?’” Peter mock gagged, causing Tony to ruffle his hair, “and I won’t lie, I said yes to that, but I did end up learning his name after that just to spite Rhodes. I didn’t actually expect it to go farther than, what do you kids call it nowadays? Thirsting?”

“Yes, but stop trying to be cool, old man. We get it, you had the hots for dad.” Peter stopped laughing for a second. “Is that why you took his name? Or hyphenated to Stark-Rogers?”

“Yeah.” Tony smiled, a soft look in his eye. “Now hush, I’m telling a story. I really didn’t expect it to go beyond surface level attraction. Then lo and behold, they drag him up out of the ice and I have to deal with having feelings again, which sucked by the way. The Battle of New York happened, and honestly I wanted to not get along with him. We both tried picking fights in the beginning, but then I fell out of space and he was hovering over me when I woke up. He barely left my side after that. Made sure I went to medbay and everything.” 

Tony paused, reflecting. “Honestly? I think it was the look in his eyes when I was conscious again. His smile too. I looked at him and realized ‘Oh fuck, I’m gonna marry him,’ and sure enough.” 

He stopped for a moment to laugh. “I still can’t believe I started to love him before I even met him. It’s ridiculous.”

“Tony, honey? Are you awake? I think I hear your voice. Who are you- oof.”

“Dad!” Before any of them could blink, Peter shot out of his seat at the sound of his dad’s voice. “You’re home!”

“Hey peanut,” Steve hugged his son close. “Yeah I’m home. Why are you up? It’s almost 4am, you should be asleep.”

“Couldn’t sleep. Papa was up too.”

“Yeah this was definitely mostly my fault. We missed you dear.” Tony got up to greet his husband, leaning up to kiss him. “Welcome back.”

“Gross.”

“Peter, you literally asked me not even an hour ago how I knew I was going to marry him, I think you can tolerate us kissing.”

“Whatever, man.” He turned to Steve. “Last hug? Then I’ll go to bed, promise.”

“Of course Peter.”

Steve pulled him close, making sure that he hugged him a little tighter for a little longer. “I love you, peanut. Get some sleep please.”

“Okay dad.”

Before he had a chance to run out, Tony snagged him for one last kiss on the temple. “Goodnight, bambino. I love you.”

“Love you too!”

He dragged himself back towards his room, finally content to go to sleep. 

~~~

“He okay?” Steve asked once Peter was out of earshot. 

“He’s fine. He just missed you, love.”

Steve nodded. “So he asked about how we met?”

“Not quite,” Tony told him. “He asked about how I knew I wanted to marry you. I have a sneaking suspicion he’s not telling us something, but I’m sure he will when he’s ready for us to know.”

“Oh of course.” Steve paused. “What did you tell him?”

“The truth. About how I found you hot long before you came out of the ice, and then your smile clued me in to how fucked I really was.”

“Tony,” he said, exasperated. “You’re gonna scar him for life.”

“Oh please, he’s 17, it’s probably not the worst he’s heard. Not everyone is a prude like you.”

Steve smiled, leaning down to kiss him again. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, baby. When did you get in?”

“A couple hours ago.” He suddenly looked weary, prompting Tony to guide him to the couch. “Had to debrief and check-in with medbay, plus I wanted to shower before I came up. I was going to make you both breakfast and surprise you when the sun was up, but you two had other plans apparently.”

“So it would seem.” Tony laughed at the look he gave him. “Come on, it’s no use now. The kid won’t be up until the afternoon most likely, and you should rest anyhow. Plus I need sleep and I missed my favorite pillow.”

Steve gasped. “I have been your husband for 20 years and I’m just your pillow? Is that all?”

“Rogers, I swear to god if you don’t come cuddle me right now I will get a divorce.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“No,” Tony admitted. “I don’t.”

[selfharmer-problems]

I'm trying to get my financial aid back at college and filling out many paperwork that I need to turn in still (bc I just got off of academic suspension) made my anxiety skyrocket and I fell back into depression again (though I never really escaped from it), I recently relapsed after being clean for almost a year. I honestly dont know what to do now bc this is my fifth time relapsing and I'm incredibly stressed and scared that classes are coming up soon, idk what I'm gonna do once I go back

School was sooooooo hard for me and it took me a really long time to graduate because my mental health was getting in the way. I relapsed a lot through school.  which is okay. a few things that helped me with school were  1. take fewer classes. 12 credit hours is typically considered full time, I kept it at 9. it made it so that I wasn’t completely overwhelmed and I was able to put enough time in for all of my classes to do well.  2. keep a planner. when you get your syllabi from your professors immediately add everything to the planner. I also like to see when tests are going to be and put a reminder a week before so I know to study. For papers I would do a reminder for a month and another for a week.  3. keep a routine and have a work area. the last semester I had actual coursework I realized that I needed to not work in my apartment. I had a tendency to get distracted and get nothing done. So I started scheduling a time for me go to a local coffee shop and I would sit there for hours at a time doing homework. I also need to schedule my social media time. when I’m in school I try to keep it down to an hour a day.

4. keep in touch with your professors. even if you blew it. this is especially important for if you have a mental illness. Most of the professors I’ve had have been flexible when I’ve told them about extenuating circumstances or even times when my mental health has been really bad and made me totally blow and assignment.  Also, I think right now there is a lot of anxiety and anticipation for it. Especially coming off of academic probation and the feelings related to that. I think that once you get in the groove of it it will be much better. Not that school is easy, it will take effort and management, but right now you’re entering new situation, when the routine is going it will be easier to at least keep up.  You could also get in touch with the disability department to get reasonable accommodations for your classes which would allow extra time for assignments, more time with tests, or whatever things you think you need. I haven’t done this though, you would have to talk to them about the requirements.  If you do end up withdrawing from your classes due to health problems you could speak to someone at your school about a waiver if there is a fee, and you can get a refund.  Managing your mental health and preventing relapse is connected to reducing stress around school. it takes good time management and discipline to keep a routine and stay on top of everything. staying up to date on what needs to be done is super important. nothing is more stressful than the end of the semester and having everything due at once, but if you manage your time and stay on top of it you can finish stuff early and won’t want to die during finals.  You can absolutely do it. Take your time if you have to. Ask for help when you need it. You got this. - Adrienne  

[manicpixiedreamjew]

I hope this isn't too personal a question (and if it is feel free to not answer) but how old where you when you first contacted a rabbi about converting? Even though I know I won't convert for another few years minimum I want to start learning now, but I'm scared I won't be taken seriously because I'm only 17. Anyways, I was just curious about your experience. Have a great day!

Haha, this is almost, verbatim, the first ever ask I sent on this blog all the way back in 2017!

So, I don’t think there’s any issues with people not taking you seriously. Rabbis are genuine and they want to help you learn and thrive, but they will also suggest what they believe is best for you at the time (it usually is).

I was sixteen when I first met my rabbi, and when I first started attending Shabbat services. I was seventeen (like, had just turned seventeen the day before) when I first had an appointment with my rabbi to discuss the prospects of conversion. He was super suave and chill about everything and sort of put me on a course of low-key, involved-but-not-overwhelming learning until I was mature enough to handle actual conversion classes. He has a bunch of kids of his own so I think he knew what I needed at that time...which was guided exposure to Judaism without the pressure of actual conversion. That went on for two years.

When I tell people I converted, the first thing they usually ask is, “during highschool?! how!”

It’s hard. This is a turbulent and emotional time in your life...not to mention you may not have reliable transportation, finances or free time that conversion demands. Conversion is almost like a part to full time job...you need to attend services, classes, yom tov, meetings, community functions, etc, and juggling that with school can get near impossible. I remember during my mandatory classes I had to get up at 5 AM for school, get off at 3 PM, try to do a loads worth of AP and college credit homework, then focus on reading the chapter for my conversion class, THEN, at 7 PM, drive an hour to the city. At 9 PM the class was over and I’d drive an hour back. That means I got home sometime around 10 to 11 PM, and I usually had more homework after that, so I’d have finally get to bed around 12 or 1 AM. Luckily that was only for my last semester of highschool.

My advice is to ALWAYS take things slowly. I converted over 3 years time, from my sophomore year of highschool up until AFTER I graduated. And I’m so, so glad I took that time. You will find that there are some things you’re just not emotionally ready to accept, handle or learn. For me that was prayer; it took me years to understand what prayer meant, until it finally clicked in my heart. I just couldn’t understand it when I was 16 or 17 or even 18. The foundations that you build while you’re learning help support your eventual Jewish identity, so it’s important that you take the time to make it sturdy and strong.

Go talk to a rabbi and tell him what you’re thinking. Discuss your future and goals, and focus on taking your time with things right now. It’s less about converting and more about becoming familiar with a place and people that may become your new home :) and then, when you’re ready, you can seriously discuss what needs to be done in order to start your conversion.

[pbandjesse]

Today was a pretty good day. But I woke up with some really bad anxiety. I first got up around 5:30 and try to fall back asleep. I was able to doze at least until around 6:30. But then I got up. I got dressed and I told James I just couldn't you in the house right now. I had to go and clean the old apartment. I was just dealing with too much stress and I couldn't wait till this afternoon.

So I biked to the old place. And I clean the fridge and I took out the rest of the trash. I just tried to do what I could to make myself feel better. I called James because I felt overwhelmed and he told me he would come back later in the day and finish cleaning and do a video walkthrough for me. That made me feel a bit better. Felt like I had some help. Please just spoke so dusty and I couldn't handle it. And I just needed help.

I called my dad and talk to him for a little. Told him a little bit more about the new place and the plan for coming to visit next week. And it was nice. I calmed down enough and I still have almost an hour until I really needed to be at the Museum.

So I decided to bike over to the new place. I looked around to the front and back of the building. Saw that there is a swing set over at the park that we're going to be across the street from. So that's exciting. I love swing set. And then I figured out the best way to get downtown.

And that was really easy actually. There's only one part where there's a little bit of a hill. But it's not a bad Hill and it was a pretty comfortable ride. I'm really excited to move. I'm hoping that maybe while I'm gone for a few days James will take some initiative and just do some of it. But we'll see. We both have pretty full schedules this week and then I go to the beach and I'm going to go see my parents and I'm glad we have the flexibility to kind of move as a process. But I also just desperately want to be over there and I'm packing and putting things away. I am so sick of all the little piles of stuff we have in this apartment. I just want to put it away.

I got down to the museum around 8:30. So I went to McDonald's and got breakfast. I ate it there. And took my time.

It was a really nice day though. I got to talk to some really interesting people. I only gave one actual tour but I went through the museum and would show people stuff and tell stories. I cleaned and organized the back office area. Help Kate bring some stuff up to the office is on the other side of the building. The ones I don't go up to very often. It was nice.

It was mostly very chill day. Around 1:30 ish I went over to Chipotle and got nachos. I came back and had half of them. I think I'm going to bring the other half to school tomorrow. And then at 2 I gave my one big tour of the day.

And man was it a doozy. I knew it was going to be emotional because of all the presidential comments about Baltimore yesterday. And I wasn't as emotional as I thought I was going to be I was angry. Because there was a couple on our tour who were tourists. And the guy could not stop interrupting to make disparaging comments about Baltimore. Overall it was a very good tour. I got to tell my stories and there was comments and questions and the tour lasted a little over an hour. I had this one young couple who is considering coming here for college and they were just so sweet. But that one guy interrupted me when I got into my reasons I love Baltimore part of my tour and he really upset me. Thankfully everyone else in the car kind of jumped on him when he said that Baltimore was the most crime ridden place in America. And I just looked at him and I said no. Here are the reasons you are wrong about the Baltimore Community. The reasons it's a good place. The reasons it has been disenfranchised and the ways that the community is trying to make it better. And by saying that horrible stuff about it it's not helping anything and it's just mean.

Thankfully I had some really nice people to talk to after the tour that had questions and positive things to say. And I got to gush about Baltimore then. Uninterrupted by negativity.

But because my Torrid of a little bit longer than I planned to have you had to wait to have her lunch. I feel bad about that. But you put me in charge of the register and I had not done that at the BMI yet. So it was scary. But it's the same POS system as over at ships so it was fine. I did have some trouble with the credit cards and had to hand type them in because I couldn't figure out how to use the scanner but I sold it and I sold two tickets on a t-shirt. Very proud of myself. I am now trained to work at the front desk.

I left there a little bit before 4. And man it was hot outside. I ended up liking back to the harbor but the sun was so bright I just wanted to go be inside somewhere so I went to Marshalls. I needed to buy jean shorts anyway.

As I was coming up the escalator there was a credit card at the top of the stairs. A man saw it and he reached down to pick it up and I said oh no that's not a good thing to lose. And then I look to the side and there's and insurance card and a driver's license. I was like oh no and then someone said I think that's her over there. So I went to go ask but it wasn't she just had similar hair. So we gave them to the security guard and hoped for the best.

While it was over looking at the clearance stuff I found the girl. And she had already gotten it from the security guard and she thanked me and it was great. I heard her on the phone on the other side the rack telling the person that I was a sweet lady who found her stuff and she basically lost her entire life somehow and felt very stupid was so happy that I found it and not somebody who was mean.

And I found my shorts. They fit me very well but they do have that weird holes distressing thing happening in it. So I think I'm going to put some colorful fabric underneath of it for like a cool effect. But they fit me so good I couldn't turn them down for $12.

I left there and biked home. I took kind of a funny way and was just kind of exploring. But I got back here around 5.

I put some stuff away. Water the plants because they all looked sad. I had a succulent clipping that had rooted, so I planted that. First time I've ever tried this. And then I took a bath. I put olive oil in my hair because my scalp is so dry and now I'm just kind of hanging out. James has a meeting that's supposed to be over at 7. So he'll probably be home soon. So I'm just eating crackers. Tomorrow I have a half day of camp. Because I have to go to my apartment walk through. I am so anxious over this. I hate it. I feel like the last apartment walkthrough I had went so simple and so easy just look around it was like a cool. And then even with the U-haul pick up the guy just looked at said okay cool and signed off. I'm hoping that this will be the same thing. We cleaned it looks great on video but it's probably still Dusty because everything's Dusty. So I'm just hoping that whoever from the maintenance company comes is nice. And doesn't make me feel horrible about everything because I already feel horrible and everything. And I hate that I have to leave work so early because then I have to leave the big kids halfway through stem. And that feels horrible. But I'm hoping that they can at least get started and it won't matter that I'm not there for the second the half of the afternoon. I should have made the appointment for 3 I don't know why I made it for 2. I think I just freaked out.

I still think it will be a nice day. It's the last week of camp and I am hoping it will be great. I hope you all have a great night. Sleep well. Be safe out there. Take care of each other. Try not to let all the small stuff get to you.

[reginaofdoctorwho]

ok so first off only two of my classes for next semester are going to be covered by financial aid, w a total of 6 credit hours, and i need 12 to be considered full time and get any financial aid or my scholarship. there are only TWO classes in the ENTIRE FUCKING COLLEGE RIGHT NOW THAT WILL BE AID ELIGIBLE. i have to either double major and pray to fucking god that it evens out and that i can take whatever classes the other program would need in time to graduate. it will probably be psychology or english since my class issue is mainly to do w my high school classes (took college bio, music theory, math and english in high school) and psychologywould use up my statistics class and the humanities electives could maybe cover spanish. i would still need about 15-18 credits in either, so i'd need to take at least two classes over winter break when i'm (hopefully) getting the stabby botox done. i was supposed to get a call back today about it and NOTHING

SECOND my writing professor decided to cancel an essay he was giving us but i forgot to take the deadline alarm out of my phone, so i ALSO had to panic tonight about not having the paper with instructions for it, texted the only person i know in that class in a full panic. i have to see her and act like a normal person tomorrow so she doesn't think i'm weird AHHHH

[justanotherlesbiannn]

I'm not from Utah but I've been living here since I started college. I grew up Mormon and thus attend their religious university because it's what I can afford, and when I was 18 and did exactly what my parents said and wanted to be the perfect Mormon kid for them. I graduate from this hell hole in December.

Let me give you a few insights on what it's like to be raised in the Mormon church:

To graduate from their universities, you have to take 14 credit hours of religious classes. 8 of which are mandatory and not chosen from a list. Those classes consist of Book of Mormon, Eternal Families (where they talk anti-homosexuality and that gender norms are law), and the Restoration (all about our favorite pedophile Joseph Smith).

If you have proof that you give 10% of everything you earn to the church, your tuition is cut in half. Non-mormons pay full price. Members of the church are expected to pay this tithing their whole lives. Like, since birth it is indoctrinated into the kids' heads.

In high school, you either take an elective credit during the school day (usually available in Utah and Arizona) or an early morning (6am) seminary class. All 4 years. You learn about everything from Genesis to Joseph Smith in these classes. I had to attend these while working 30 hours a week, keeping up my grades, and doing extracurriculars.

You are baptised at 8. You "get a choice" but let's be real, we are all brainwashed little kids when that happens.

From 8 on, you are put in night classes usually once a week to learn either to be a good man (boy scouts) or a good woman (sewing, cooking, etc.)

I kid you not, each week, I spent about 10 hours just at the church. That didn't even count stuff at home.

If you don't consider going to the religious universities, you are basically shunned and judged.

If men choose not to go on their 2-year conversion mission to anywhere in the world a bunch of old men decide to send you, they are shunned. Same for if they come home early.

Women are judged if they don't go but not as harshly bc it's not necessarily expected. But then again it kind of is.

If you don't get married by the time you graduate college, you are basically expected to become an old maid. My mom was 29 before she met my dad and she was terrified that she was going to die alone. 29.

I realized I liked girls when I was 15. I legitimately have depression and anxiety because I didn't allow myself to believe that those feelings were okay. I was taught that it was evil, so I was literally raised to hate myself for something that was out of my control. Only now 7 years later am I allowing myself to be who I am, not who I am expected to be.

Technically, being gay is okay, as long as you do nothing about it. It's a sin that is meant to be overcome according to the Mormon church. How kind of them.

The church is so focused on getting us to spit out more brainwashed babies, if you're single or unable to have children, it's almost impossible to find real community.

I will never be able to see my friends or family get married in their temples. You can only watch if you are "endowed" (magic underwear you've probably heard about). I am not "worthy" to watch a Mormon wedding. I get to sit in the lobby and wait.

We do baptisms for dead people. Like, after death, we have them "join the church". It's very disturbing. At 12yo, they send kids to a very specific part of the temples (the only room their technically allowed to be in before the underwear thing), and these kids get baptised "by proxy" for dead people.

The church doesn't teach us about the polygamy thing. I had to hear about it from a friend when I was 12. They try to hide it and justify it, but really every reason they have is creepy and gross.

Even when you leave the church, those teen boys and girls sent out on missions will come and find you and try to get you to come back. Unless you get your records removed (which is a ridiculous process), they will find you. As if shame from your family and childhood friends wasn't enough.

I'm sure I'm missing a million things but that's what I can think of off the top of my head. There is also countless cases of sexual abuse from leaders, sexism, racism, you name it. I hate that this religion was burned into my brain since birth. I'm going to be fighting how I was raised my whole life, just to be happy and love myself. And this isn't even a Utah upbringing. That shit is way worse, born into the church or just surrounded by it.

TLDR: The Mormon church sucks ass, help anyone you know who is trying to escape it or is stuck in the shithole that is Utah.

It’s Mormon conference weekend, which happens twice a year, and is when all the Mormons stay in and listen to new talks given by their leaders all day long on Saturday and Sunday. It’s consequently also a very scary time for the gay community in Utah, and the whole weekend we often send and receive lots of texts checking in, making sure everyone’s okay, asking if they’ve heard the latest awful talk condemning us. There’s real world applications to everything that happens there. Parents are “moved” to disown their children, coworkers and friends and neighbors are reminded to Other us and treat us accordingly. Suicide rates increase significantly. I remember the year after they announced children of gay parents would have to formally disown them before they’d be welcome in the church, and for two weeks afterward a group chat updated the gay community in my area almost every day with a handful of names who were not longer with us. A talk just concluded that said confusing both your gender identity and your gender role is the influence of Satan, which is deeply harmful to young trans kids and to young women. This isn’t a fun or sexy post for your timeline it just sucks and I hate Mormons and I can feel how difficult this next week is going to be as a result.

[hottmessexpresss]

**Trigger Warning** Those who are sensitive to topics such as: drug-use, over-dose, and language/descriptions/scenarios involving drugs and drug activity, please do not continue reading, or read at your own risk**

I remember I was in the parking lot of a 24 hour fitness in Bakersfield, Ca. I remember distinctly feeling like I was wrapped in a warm, weighted blanket. My breathing was shallow, but it felt "nice". I felt as if some large fluffy llama was sitting directly on my chest. Oddly enough, I felt at peace...and I felt very, very, sleepy. I didn't feel scared. I felt "whole" for the first time- I felt...happy.

Unknown time had lapsed and I woke up with vomit all over my shirt. I was dazed and confused, and blisfully unaware of my surroundings. I came to, and the passenger next to me was crying and repeatedly saying, "I don't want to go to jail. I don't want to go to jail."

That was my first and only opiate induced over-dose, and before Narcan has been heavily encouraged and issued. If you think that was enough to scare me, you're dead wrong.

Fast forward 6 years, give or take...and here I am sitting in the hospital watching my husband writhe in pain. He just had a total shoulder replacement surgery for a second time, at 42 years old (that is considered "young" for this type of evasive surgery.) My husband never shows he is pain, and has been dealing with this pain for over a year. Doctors never took him seriously. He didn't "look" to be in pain, and his physiological responses didn't "show" he was in pain. Often, there was frustration. Anger. Resentment. Not a soul believed him, and he had accepted he was going to have to deal with it for the remainder of his life. My husband served 21 years in the United States Military. His body is proof of what men and women can endure ensuring our freedoms are protected.

My husband has said, "If it weren't for these junkies, I wouldn't have to be jumping through hoops to be taken seriously." It didn't offend me. It didn't hurt my feelings. With the recent (but not new) opiate epidemic, my mind has been reeling with questions, thoughts, and residual pain. How* do we as a society, fix this problem? What can be done to HELP? What types of out-patient, low cost programs could make an impact in communities of these (addicts) people?

Drugs do not discriminate. When I was detained by the oh-so-lovely, Bakersfield Police Department back in 2014, I was treated as less than a person. "How long have you been doing drugs??? You're too pretty and young to be a tweaker." I was humiliated. I sat in silence, and in that moment "they" had won. I wanted to tell them....."If you only knew me.....if you only knew my story....my amazing, loving, parents...my upbringing, my home...my college education....." but to them, I was just 'another tweaker,' and another case number to report on. The stigma is there. I've seen comments on numerous facebook posts, "tweakers deserve to die." But my friends, they do not. If it weren't for the passanger in my car 6 years ago (even if it were for selfish reasons...AKA not going to jail) I would not have had my beautiful babies, and I would not have had a fighting chance to change my life in a productive and meaningful way.

Not even a full 24 hours after surgery, my husband's nerve block started to wear off. We paged his nurse for relief......and what happened? The on-call resident had a nurse bring my husband Tylenol. Tylenol. After a major surgery. I was offended, and in that moment, I felt embarrassed. There are people out here in this world in legitimate pain. Because of the sudden intensity of the current opiate epidemic, they (pain patients) were forced to taper off of their medication completely, or cut back harshly on their medication. Is this the right thing to do? Is this fair to those battling pain daily with the medical records to back it all up? This is where most addictions can start. "It's a prescription by my doctor... so it's fine." I can bet most do not abuse them, because of course, they need them. But there also people out in this world with emotional pain.

The first time I tried Oxycontin, I felt the effects relatively quickly. Battling depression since 12 years of age, I was dealing with my parents divorce and remarriages, new family dynamics, being a fat, and bullied nerd....I never took medication long enough to know if it would be helpful to me. So in that moment, naiive to what was to come, not knowing my genetic predisposition, I thought to myself, "so THIS is happiness....THIS is what "normal" feels like." And so began my endless and bottomless search for that euphoric happiness, and my self-medication began.

My husband was finally given an Oxycodone 11 HOURS later. It was horrible seeing his face knowing he was in unbearable pain. "We're giving you two doses of Oxycodone, Mr. Steele." My ears. I heard the name, and I knew it all too well. A former best-friend of mine; one whom I loved more than myself and loved more than anything else in this entire world at one point. The word itself, triggered me. Almost 6 years of being free and clear off that shit, and the word alone sent my neurotransmitters firing rapidly and excitedly. My brain started to illict a chemical and emotional response... to a fuckin' word*. I started to feel anxious. Uneasy. Worried. Angry. Jealous. To those who have never been addicted to drugs, this probably sounds absolutely CRAZY to you. How can someone be jealous of someone in legitimate pain and taking pain pills? Well, someone who had once before been EXCITED to fracture her thumb knowing she was getting pain pills (me). I knew* my husband needed them. I knew he had a legitimate reason to need them-but I felt* out of my mind. That* is addiction... That* is your brain fighting against the rational fibers of what is "normal". After addiction sets in, your brain under goes chemical changes. Your "Hedonic Set-Point" of happiness is altered and flipped the fuck upside down. You become addicted because you realize that the intense euphoria and happiness, that warm, fuzzy feeling in your stomach, the rush to your head...have all caused a peak beyond your "set point" of euphoria. You crave it, and you NEED it just to even function and feel "normal" If you don't use (drugs), your entire body shuts down and you become so sick (the flu times 500). So you continue to use and abuse anything to reach the level of "normal" (and beyond) in order to not feel like a depressed piece of shit. Rock bottom hits (whenever and however that is and may be, and some will never experience the same rock bottom) and you get clean, and your "hedonic set point" is reset and now, unrealistic. You soon realize you will never* feel that level of happiness again (sober). Social context, and psychological predispositions can trigger a response in your brain to want to achieve that chemical, unrealistic level- over and over again.

Recovering addicts face this day in and day out, and in this case, recovery** is a CHOICE. No one wakes up one day and says, "you know what? I'm going to steal from my family and act like a reckless fool and ruin my normalcy and fuck up my entire family (and my fuckin' credit score) Addicts can do bad things, but that doesn't make them bad people. They are the walking wounded. In the words of my favorite author, Charles Bukowski, "we don't even ask (for) happiness, just a little less pain." A close friend of mines addiction was so deep, she lost custody of her child and lost sight of everything she once loved. No one in their right mind* would EVER jeopardize the relationship and well being with their own flesh and blood. People who weren't addicted could never phatom this scenario, but addiction is* ugly. She passed away almost two years ago, leaving her daughter and family behind. Again, addiction can be so powerful and it trumps all things good. Addicts become selfish. Because they only care about themselves and their next fix. Unless they get the proper intervention, have kick ass insurance, and the will and reason deep down to stop, they won't. That's why in NA, they say some people's only way out of addiction, is jail, institutions, or death.

I feel embarrassed sometimes to admit any of this. Those who knew me in my active addiction phase, constantly said, "where* is Katelyn? Where* did she go? This is not* the Katelyn we know and loved..." Addicts have to first admit they are powerless over their addiction. Along with this, comes a mountain of shame, guilt, embarrassment, shame, and a total slap in the face of everything* they were covering up during their abuse. We have to essentially re-learn how to live life again. How to cope with underlying mental illness, how to cope with triggers, how to live day to day without their former best friend.

I wish deep down I wasn't this way. I wish deep down the muffled voice subtly nagging at my brain would stop. I wish i knew better. I don't feel this hardcore temptation anymore. In the beginning, everything felt "unfair" and life kept throwing punches at me and I struggled to handle them. I blamed others for my addiction and carried around SO much anger. One day, it clicked. No one forced me to do anything. Only I was to blame. I was responsible and accountable for what happened to me, and only I was responsible for changing my behavior. It was hard. Most of the time, it felt virtually impossible to stop. If any addict could take a magic pill to end the cycle and to start their lives over, I'm betting some- if not most, would. This blog isn't a debate on whether or not addiction is a choice. I could sit here and debate with anyone all day on this subject. This entry is merely pointing out a basic and yet complex struggle one can face years and years down the line during their recovery. I look back and feel accomplished. I overcame something not everyone has the privilege to escape from. Being clean, I was able to rediscover myself, reevaluate goals, mend relationships, and lead a meaningful life. I found my soul-mate and have two amazing babies. My hope for anyone struggling with addiction is to overcome. Take advantage of any and all local resources and dig deep down to find the desire to want to stop. It might take you more than one attempt to get clean. In NA, they mention over and over to never feel like relapse isn't possible and that it "won't happen" to you. Because it is possible. It can happen at any given moment, and there is always a chance of giving in to the demons you have worked so hard to manage and control. Make the concious choice to NOT give in to the monster, no matter how tempting it could be. You are loved. You are worthy.

"Just for today, my thoughts will be on my recovery, living and enjoying life without the use of drugs. Just for today, I will have faith in someone in NA who believes in me and wants to help me in my recovery. Just for today, I will have a program. I will try to follow it to the best of my ability. Just for today, I will be unafraid. My thoughts will be on my new association's- people who are not using and have found a new way of life. So as long as I follow that way, I will have nothing to fear." (Narcotics Anonymous, text)

Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA)

1-800-662-4357

NA (Narcotics Anonymous)- find NA meetings and local resources for recovery.

http://m.na.org/