#like thanksgiving break starts TUESDAY we should not have to stress about this because you decided to skip your classes monday and tuesday

[partlysunny15]

there is nothing I hate more than group projects. if we have between 6pm after class friday to sunday night at midnight to do this project, in person, why the hell would you book a flight home on saturday at 4am???

[creek-cryptid-deluxe]

Welp it's 430 am on a Friday & I've not yet slept due to pain so... let's do a life update with Dr.M!

Where to begin... I guess with how things are with L & The House Gremlins.

Things between me & L are still really great. Honestly the last month has been crazy stressful starting the week before Thanksgiving. He got a chest infection & was down Friday thru the Monday of the week prior to Thanksgiving. The kids started their 2 week holiday visit that Friday so I handled EVERYTHING. Then Sunday night I felt sinus junk & the next morning woke up with 102°f fever & full on pneumonia. I apparently ran myself down & then a cold front happened. He tried to handle stuff on Monday but kept falling asleep in the kids' rooms & since they couldn't wake him they came to me. I was down til Thursday. Really should have been longer but Ari got his chest infection, so I had to take care of her while he worked. Kids left for the weekend (Ari with very explicit instructions on what she needed to kick the infection) & when they all came back Monday, Ari was still sick & so was Zel. So Monday & Tuesday I took care of them because they asked for me specifically every time. Wednesday I realized how burned out L was, so I handled everything til Saturday when the kids were gone again. Wednesday was baking & prep, Thursday was Thanksgiving proper, which I cooked for (because L was legit just going to order a pizza), Friday was clean up & general kid nonsense. L got 3 days of video games. The following Monday, I was down due to an upcoming cold front & he learned at the beginning of work that a coworker he was close with took their life the night before. I was down until Thursday because on Tuesday the front was serious enough that the temp dropped 20 degrees in an hour. He basically did the bare minimum to get by, going to work then coming home & making sure we both ate. Since then I've been ok, and have been able to help him through his grief & keep him going til Christmas break (which starts the end of next week).

Despite ALL of that (plus me suspecting I am having a hormone issue due to the fact that my body/emotional state has resembled my severe PMS for 2.5 months now without any period action; so I'm overly sensitive, overly emotional, & hornier than I've ever been in my life) we've still not had any fights or anything like that. We both just make sure that we openly communicate with each other about how we are feeling & what we need or have the capacity to handle, then act accordingly to ensure we are supporting each other & both our needs are met to the best of our ability while treating each other with kindness & understanding.

This is like an actual healthy relationship and it's fucking dope. But also neither of us is accustomed to such a thing so it's been an adjustment & a learning experience.

The House Gremlins... so you might remember that at the start of their 2 week stay, Vin was still basically attempting to bully me. He legit asked L if he was getting rid of L's old couches & when L confirmed it, this child looked me in my face & asked L what he is gonna do when we break up because Ex1 or Ex2 scares me off with threats. (I acted like I didn't hear him & L basically laughed & said that due to my life experiences, people don't frighten me. The subtext was that the exes specifically don't frighten me... because I grew up with people so much worse than them tbh.) Well, since that first Sunday afternoon when he turned it around, he's been great. Hasn't given me any trouble when I ask him to do stuff, has volunteered to help with things, & has been talking to me about Pokemon Go since he got his smartphone back. He even called me a few nights ago to ask if his dad had dress shoes he could borrow for an event.

Zel is happy as a clam with my existence. Out of the 3, she's been the least resistant to my presence. She took to manners & such really quickly. Plus, if I lay out clear rules about using certain stuff I have (like [Dr. M's] Special Markers) she follows the rules to the letter so she can keep using them.

Ari... has been a butt when she doesn't like what I say or gently call her out for doing something she shouldn't but beyond that seems all good.

So I'm fully integrated into the house. Still the first choice when there's a problem. Still the one who gets asked about baking, dinner, or doing ridiculous jazz.

All in all, super dope.

The Spawn situation is... not dope. She's basically started peddling her pity party "it's so hard to be broke at 18, trying to learn to be an adult without parents" to all my friends now in addition to family... while living for free at my Dad's, basically acting like it's her fucking house, while he pays the bills and her dog has become his dog in that she now sleeps with him & he is the one who walks her, plays with her, buys her toys, treats, and food. She's supposedly moving to Oklahoma with her 'bestie' (a guy she's known since freshman year) & The Bf (yep he came back & they scream at each other DAILY) for a lab tech job in an ER. However I doubt that will work out since she's already ranting to The Bf about not being able to work in a hospital because of 'classism'.

"Dr. M, why the quotes around the word classism?"

Oh because she's misusing the term and is deeply misinformed but ignores or screams at anyone who attempts to correct her. She is referring to her hearing second hand from a person who hasn't ever worked in healthcare that doctors & nurses look down on techs and treat them like trash. Multiple people who have actually worked in healthcare have told her that is not commonplace anymore, as most know that lab techs/phlebotomists are an indispensable part of the healthcare system in that they are diagnostically necessary.

But she isn't ever mistaken so... she ain't trying to hear that.

I've not spoken to her but have heard things from friends & Dad. Oof. I really hope she grows out of this.

Oh! Also I've regained all but 5 lbs of the weight I lost the month before I came here despite my multiple illnesses & bouts of pain puking in the last 2 months. That and my energy levels remind me that I made the right choice. I love her dearly but I warned her repeatedly that once she hit 18 I wasn't going to put up with the abusive disrespectful bull anymore. She didn't believe me. Her bf warned her. She didn't believe him. Dad warned her. She didn't believe him. Hell, the oldest of my younger cousins warned her. Kid still decided to fuck around over and over and over & is continually shocked and 'doesn't understand' why she's finding out.

Also you know stuff with her is bad when my Dad (who has the patience of a saint & endless kindness for people he loves) is going on at length about being stoked to have them move tf out. In contrast, he was sad I was leaving but also happy that I was finally putting myself first & not letting her just straight up kill me.

Plus he really likes L. They text CONSTANTLY about hockey & the nerdass shit they both are super into that I only have knowledge about by being in proximity of my father most of my life. Like 2 days ago, L went on for like 20 mins about... idk some hockey shit. He suddenly looked at me (because I will listen to him talk about anything forever, but get a sorta glazed over look if I have no clue what he's on about) and said "This is a conversation for your dad, huh?" I confirmed. Then yesterday I told my dad about it because I gave them each other's numbers for emergencies (plus I have his mom's number so...). He immediately asked what hockey nonsense he was talking about. I explained the bits I could remember super vaguely & he started laughing & knew EXACTLY what L was talking about. (I mean, I guess he did because he said a name & I threw up my hands and said "I don't fucking know! I guess?") I obviously relayed this interaction to L... who immediately said "Oh yeah! I have his digits!", picked up his phone & started texting my dad about Lord of the fucking Rings.

Goddamned nerds.

[thatsbucknasty]

she used to be mine (v) waitress au

summary: Inspired by the broadway musical. Y/N Beck is a pie baking force to be reckoned with. She’s pregnant with her lazy ass husband, Quentin Beck’s baby. As everything around her turns upside down, Doctor James Buchanan Barnes charms his way into her life.

pairing: Y/N x Bucky

I will put some warnings in the tags cause I don’t want to spoil everybody but I feel like there are sensitive topics in this one, so go ahead and check the tags!

chapter 5: you will still be mine

You’d think that having an unplanned pregnancy, an unemployed lazy husband and an exhausting job that underpays would be just enough to realize you’re having a bad year. But now, on top of that, said unemployed lazy husband’s truck broke down and I just can’t afford to fix it right now, he’s asking for money cause he already took it to the shop without consulting with me, and it’s not like I can just give him my savings.

He was out all night yesterday, drinking I assume. I have to tell him I’m pregnant. And also, I have to walk to work and to my doctor’s appointment later today, because I can only afford one bus ride per day and usually it would be the one back home from work cause Quentin would drive me in the morning. Life’s just fine and dandy isn’t it?

I’ve seen those videos where women will make a big deal showing their spouse the little pregnancy test and record their reaction. It usually involves tears and hugs and all things pretty, and I can’t help but feel like I’m never gonna have that kind of life. The one with balloons and cake and glitter for the gender reveal party and the baby shower. And I’ve never even wanted those things, but I’m pretty sure Quentin’s reaction will be the farthest from tears and hugs and all things pretty.

-

“Morning, Y/N, you’re late again. It’s the third time this month”. Sam looks angry at me from the counter, at least he’s back to his grumpy self but I feel bad nonetheless.

“I am so sorry Sam, I swear I’m not doing it on purpose, it’s just that I had to walk and you know 4th street’s closed and-

“Hey, calm down girl. I understand. I know y’all think I’m rude and moody all the time but I just like teasing ya... if you ever need help I can give you a ride in the morning”. Great, now even Sam is pitying me.

“And I know what you’re thinking. ‘He’s pitying me’”, he rolls his eyes at me, “but I care about you girls despite all of our bickering. I’m just offering my help cause we’re pals, aren’t we?” He offers me a cup of coffee and I decline but sit down on the stool.

“Why aren’t you drinking coffee Y/F/N?” Oh shit.

“I uh, I-” Shit, shit, shit.

“Y/N?, tell me what’s going on?”

“Fuck, Sam, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. We are pals, we are! But I didn’t want Nick to know cause I thought he might fire me. I’m pregnant”. I finally sigh and hide my face in my hands, trying hard not to cry in front of him. “God, this is embarrassing”.

“Hey! There’s nothing to be ashamed of here. I understand, actually a lot of things make sense now. The girls know, don’t they?” I hum my answer, my face still in my palms.

“Have you told Quentin yet?” I shake my head and look down at the orange juice he puts in front of me instead of the usual coffee, huh, he can be nice when he really wants to.

“You’re in a real conundrum, aren’t you?”

“Yes I am. He hasn’t been working for the past three months. He didn’t come home last night and we fight almost every day. I don’t know when I’ll start showing but my uniform barely fits and my feet are swollen from walking here. It’s just a matter of time until he notices. I can barely afford my doctor’s appointments. Oh! And I might have a tiny crush on him”.

“Your doctor? Wasn’t he married?”

“How did you- nevermind. Well, he’s getting a divorce, but I am married so nothing’s gonna happen either way”.

“Jesus, I wish I could do something to help you. My offer on the ride still stands, okay?”

“Thank you, Sammy. You’re very kind but knowing my husband, he would never allow it. He’d rather I walk with my swollen feet everyday and I don’t wanna fight with him. I’m just so tired”.

“Y/N, I know this ain’t my place but, why are you still with him?”

“I honestly don’t know anymore. I keep making up reasons when Nat tells me to ‘leave his ass’ but I can’t think of any more good ones”.

-

The diner was very quiet today, most Tuesdays it is because Al’s Pancake World has a discount. Sam swore he’d keep the secret about my little crush. I just don’t want Nat to have more material for insisting I should leave Quentin right now. And now I’m walking over to the doctor’s office.

The air tonight is so crisp and I appreciate how summer is about to end. Fall has always been my favorite time of the year. I can’t wait for the diner to smell like pumpkin pie every day. Speaking of pie, I brought Bucky some leftovers.

“Good evening, Y/N. Oh gosh, you brought pie?” 

“I said I would, didn’t I?”

“I’m starting to think I should give you something back, you really didn’t have to”.

“Oh don’t worry about it, it’s just some leftover ‘Kick in the pants pie’, I know, the name’s a little too aggressive but I had a bad week, don’t judge”.

“No one’s judging here. But care to explain the name?”

“I just- I had a fight with my husband earlier, and whenever I wish I could do something that’s not very nice, I just make it into a pie, you know… to express my feelings in a non-violent way”.

“So you wish you could kick your husband’s crotch but you made a pie instead, got it”. It’s insane and we both laugh about it for a minute and he leans back into the exam table. This is nice, having a friend who I can openly talk about my issues with. Wait, are we friends?

“Do you and your husband fight a lot?”

“Um… why are you asking me this?”

“Oh, nothing, it’s just- stress is bad for the baby and, I don’t know. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay”, I lean into the exam table next to him, close to him, “we do, we fight a lot. He drives me nuts, and I’m a pain in his ass. That’s just us I guess”.

“I get it. I was a pain in Dot’s ass too”, he scoffs out a cynical laugh and looks at me, “guess she couldn’t deal with that anymore”.

“Can I ask what happened?”

“You can, but I wouldn’t know how to answer. She just got up and left one day. Said she got an internship in New York and we weren’t working anymore, so- she didn’t even give me a real reason, nor a chance to work things out”.

“I’m sorry, Bucky”.

“It’s fine. We always wanted different things. I was raised in a small town and when I went to Chicago for college I was miserable. But I met Dot and I thought life in a big city wouldn’t be so hard if I had her by my side. But then she wanted to do even bigger”.

“Like New York?”

“Yeah. I’m not cut out for that. I love this little town of yours, always did”.

“Oh, so you’ve been here before?”

“Yeah, my grandparents lived here and I would come visit for the holidays. You actually remind me of my grandma”.

“Gee, thanks?” He throws his head back laughing.

“No, I mean because she used to bake like, ten different pies for Thanksgiving. She loved baking. And she was also a little-” He eyes me sheepishly and makes a face.

“A little what, huh?” I smack his arm and try not to laugh at his stupid, cute antics.

“Well, a little strong willed?”

“That’s a euphemism for stubborn”.

“Yeah, it is”. He has the audacity to smirk at me and I can’t help but smile because he says it in a way that feels like a compliment.

Bucky finishes the examination and tells me he’d like to see me again in three weeks. He opens the door for me and we do a little dance of who gets out first. We laugh at each other’s clumsiness and I feel like a teenager. He smells nice, like always. I say goodbye and I find myself hoping the next three weeks go by quickly. I glance at my watch and notice the time. Fuck, has it really been two hours? My appointments usually last thirty minutes tops.

-

“Hi, Y/N”. Fuck, he’s here already?

“Jesus, Quentin, you startled me. What are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to see the game at Phil’s tonight”.

“Yeah? And I thought you were supposed to come home early, you said no extra shifts on Mondays”.

“I- I was-”

“Now don’t lie to me, cause I found your money! That’s right, I did! Why were you keeping money in the closet, huh? I took the money, paid Carl to fix the damn truck and drove over to Nick’s and you weren’t there. That angry redhead chick said you left early, so where, the fuck, were you?” He grabs an empty bottle of beer and throws it against the wall.

“Quentin. Stop it, you’re scaring me! Calm down!”.

“I won’t calm down until you tell me where you were!” He grabs another bottle and raises it above his head, aiming straight at me, I’m frightened and I don’t know what else to do but-

“I’m pregnant!”

Silence. Complete and utter silence. He lowers his arm along with the crystal bottle he’s holding. Tears cascade down my face silently and I can’t help them. I hate crying in front of Quentin but he truly scared me. He’s never been violent towards me. Sure he yells a lot but he never gets like this, and I’m sure he would’ve thrown that bottle at me if I hadn’t told the truth.

“Please say something”.

“You can’t be pregnant, Y/N, and if you are it isn’t mine”. He whispers and I don’t know if I heard him right. I’m at a loss for words for a few seconds.

“Why would you say such a thing? It is yours!”

“No it isn’t! I don’t want it!” He’s yelling again and his words break my heart. If I had the smallest belief that he actually cared for me, it’s gone.

“Quentin? Do you remember that night I went to the Stark’s party with you and we both got drunk? You were wearing your fancy blue shirt with the grey tie, and I had that red dress that you like. This baby is yours. And if you-”

“No, it isn’t! I said it isn’t, Y/N. I- I can’t do this with you, I can’t and I won’t!

“What are you talking about?!”

“You remember Alice? You met her at that party”.

“Right, mini skirt girl, I remember. What about her?”

“She and I-” He looks down at his feet and then back into my eyes and I see it.

“No”. My blood begins to boil. This bastard!

I feel a huge knot in my throat and I can’t breathe. All this time I’ve been grasping for something, anything. Clinging for this marriage to work. Feeling guilty about baking a stupid pie for my doctor, when he’s been sleeping with some girl who’s probably ten years younger than him?!

“No!” I grab the nearest object and throw it at him. And of course it’s a fucking pillow- “Get out! Out, I said! And don’t ever come back!” He’s backing down, opening the door and I yell at the top of my lungs, I don’t care if the neighbors hear me- 

“That money you stole from me was for the doctor’s appointments and the hospital bills, I saved up all of that for this baby, your baby, alone!  And you’re gonna pay me back! I kept a roof over your fucking head, paid for your fucking beers and you cheated on me? If you ever come near me or this baby I will kill you, you hear me?”

I grab his keys and put them on my apron’s pocket.

“And I’m keeping the stupid truck!”

He leaves, on foot, and just like that I’m a single mother. 

“AH!”

What is this? The most terrifying pain strucks my pelvis and I feel a discharge in my underwear. No, no. Baby don’t do this. We are gonna be fine, you and I. I promise. Please. Don’t.

-

chapter 6: a soft place to land

a/n: pls reblog if you liked it c: and don’t kill me, I promise fluff is coming!

[sincerelyreidburke]

A fic for day 2!

The 25 days of Kiersey continue! This is Thanksgiving-focused, but I wanted to get this one early in the countdown before Thanksgiving was too distant of an event. I’m counting this as a winter holiday.

For context, if you want or need it, here is a ficlet that will function as a faraway prequel to the events of the following fic.

In the summer between his sophomore and junior year, Quinn tours with a fictional production of a real Broadway show, Deaf West's Spring Awakening. I recently watched the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade and decided that Quinn Cooper needed to be in on that action. Here's what happened as a result.

Heaven forgive me, for it is LONG under that cut! I saw the opportunity for Quindo fluff in New York City, and I ran with it, my friends. Featuring Quinn’s tour friend Kyra (in person, finally!), some stereotypical NYC tourism shit, and, of course, the actual Thanksgiving festivities.

///

Playbill.com

November 1st

Summer Cast of Deaf West’s Spring Awakening To Perform At Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade

*

Tuesday

Kiersey, NH

 Technically, the official start of Quinn’s Thanksgiving break occurs at 1:15 on Tuesday, when his last class lets out. Walking across campus after he leaves the sciences building is, to be sure, a very freeing experience. But it’s not until he’s by the door at the house on Beech Street, with a packed bag over his shoulder and a train ticket in his pocket, that it truly feels like his break is beginning.

“I can’t believe you two are ditching out on Shaley Thanksgiving,” Ben tells him, shaking his head and mock-scowling, as he takes the keys to his Prius off a hook by the door. “After all I’ve done for you?”

Quinn smiles brightly, and offers Ben nothing but a shrug. “I’m sorry, Ben,” he hums, “but I’ll be thinking of you in spirit.”

“Wow, that’s so nice of you, Mini.” Ben puts a hand to his heart, with all the snark in the world still in his eyes. “It’s almost for a moment like you’re not ditching to go to the big city.”

Quinn hums contemplatively, then glances at the time on his phone. “Sebastián,” he calls, and hopes his voice travels up the stairs. “We’ve got to go! The train’s in twenty minutes!”

“Twenty-four,” corrects Remy, as he walks to the door to join them with his own bag in tow. “You’ve got time, Q.”

Quinn knows he does have time, but as they say in the theater, on time is ten minutes early. He smiles at Remy anyway, and sighs. “I suppose we do, don’t we?”

Remy shrugs. “The train station is, like, two seconds away.”

This is also true.

“You’ll have to forgive me, Ben,” he adds, while they’re waiting. “Goodness knows I’m grateful for your mother’s hospitality.”

“It’s okay.” Ben smirks. “On the bright side, this year you won’t have to deal with her being weird.”

Mrs. Shaley does say odd things, most of them thinly veiled discomfort about his existence as an openly gay man (Quinn, you are just so stylish! It must just be natural for you people), but Quinn is still grateful that she had him to her house last year all the same.

Remy, who is going home with Ben again this year for the brief break, looks to him now, and asks, “Will we see you on TV?”

Quinn smiles— he can’t help it— and dusts off his knit scarf where it’s wound around his neck. “I certainly hope you will,” he replies. “So long as the parade is on, I don’t see why you wouldn’t.”

“That’s awesome,” Remy says, with a smile of his own, and Ben adds, “I can’t wait to live-Tweet it and say I know you.”

He sighs into his hand. “Oh, Benjamin.” He’s about to call for Sebastián again— he did have the class that released the latest of all of them, so it makes sense he’s the last to be ready, but then again, he should have just packed last night— but before he can call him, the floor shakes with the unmistakable rhythm of him bounding down the stairs, and in another second, he’s joined them by the door.

“Sorry, baby.” With his backpack over his shoulder, Sebastián looks handsome enough that Quinn is willing to forget his previous punctuality stress. “I’m ready now.” He’s in his nice winter jacket, with the red scarf and matching hat, and he looks every bit prepared for the November streets of New York.

“Good,” Quinn says, simply, and fixes the way his scarf tucks into his jacket before he turns to nod at Ben. “We’re ready when you are, mister taxi service.”

“You’re an asshole,” Ben replies, “and let’s get outta here.”

The train station is only a three-minute drive from campus, and Ben and Remy drop them off there, with their own long drive to Providence awaiting them as they pull out of sight. Quinn feels as if he’s buzzing with adrenaline, with the excitement of the five days that lie ahead of them. Thanksgiving break may not be long, and in past years, it hasn’t been very eventful for him— freshman year, he stayed on campus, and last year at Ben’s house was nice but not particularly crazy— but this year is a whole new story.

This year, he gets a Thanksgiving break straight out of his wildest, most wonderful daydreams.

“Are you excited, cariño?” Sebastián asks him, as they’re waiting on the platform for the train, bundled up with their bags in the cold. Quinn feels like they’re at the start of a wonderful holiday movie.

“Of course I am.” He winds his arm up in his and remarks, “In fact, I can’t remember the last time I was quite this excited.”

Sebastián smiles. Under his knit cap, his curls are just a little windblown. Quinn has never seen a more handsome sight. “I’m excited for you,” he says, and kisses his forehead, and this is going to be the greatest school break ever.

*

Wednesday

New York, NY

 On their first full day in New York, Quinn has rehearsals. This makes sense, because the whole reason they’re in New York in the first place is so that Quinn can perform. Nando doesn’t even have enough words for how proud he is of him, and the performance hasn’t even happened yet.

Quinn is up bright and early Wednesday morning. He’s headed to the hotel convention center downstairs, where he’s meeting up with his castmates from over the summer for the first time since he left tour in August. Nando rolls over in bed— it’s still dark out— and smiles when he feels him a kiss to his cheek on his way out. He reaches out of the covers and feels around until he can grab Quinn’s hand in the dark.

He squeezes it, three times— their wordless way to say I love you. Quinn returns the three squeezes, kisses the back of his hand, and then turns to go, a silhouette in rehearsal clothes as he leaves.

The bed feels empty without him afterwards, but it’s still dark outside the windows of the room, so Nando falls asleep for another little while and dreams of 

When he wakes again, he has an interesting situation on his hands: time to himself, in the middle of New York City. He’s never been here before, but he’s fully prepared to become a huge tourist so he can visit some of the food spots he follows on Instagram.

At a respectable hour, he gets up, gets dressed, and does just that in Quinn’s absence. A few very successful dessert-for-breakfast experiences later, he heads back to the hotel to FaceTime Mama and his sisters.

“Can we watch him on TV?” Gabi asks.

“Is he gonna be on one of the floats?” adds Rosa.

“Well, not exactly on a float,” Nando tells them, “but yeah, you can watch him on TV! I don’t know when he’s on, but he’ll know, so I’ll text you guys later.”

“Wish him luck for us,” Mama says, with a warm smile, and Nando smiles, too. It’s not that often you spend Thanksgiving in New York, when your family is thousands of miles away and your friends hundreds, but it’s also not often that your boyfriend, the love of your life, your favorite person in the entire world, is performing at the Thanksgiving Day Parade, so. Y’know.

Nando didn’t know it was possible to be this cheeky with pride.

At noon, he goes downstairs to pick Quinn up from rehearsal. He’ll have a busy Thursday, what with the parade and everything, but for the rest of the day, their time is entirely theirs.

It’s kind of easy to tell where the cast people are coming from, because one of Nando’s various acquired skills from the course the two years so far of this relationship is being able to spot Deaf people in public. It’s really not hard. Just watch for flying hands!

That’s how he spots Quinn— leaving the convention area, among his fellow Deaf West people, or— Kyra, actually, to be more specific. Nando hasn’t seen Kyra in months, since July, actually, when he met her on their Phoenix Spring Awakening tour stop. Her hair is different— in space buns instead of her afro— and she’s wearing a bright orange sweater, which, if her Instagram is accurate, is right in line with her sunshine aesthetic. She was amazing on tour; she’s such a talented person.

She walks side by side with Quinn, and they’re moving kind of slowly because they’re turned halfway toward each other to talk. Their hands move a mile a minute, and Nando knows a good amount of sign, but can’t keep up with this rapid conversation.

Lucky for him, he doesn’t have to. Quinn and Kyra seem to see him at the same time— and Kyra signs something he does understand, with this huge, bright smile. Literally, her sign means cactus and S, but Nando knows that’s just his sign name.

He waves across the lobby, then signs back to her— sunshine and K, for Kyra, and she lights up even more. She runs the rest of the way over, and Quinn goes after her.

How are you? he asks, and Kyra looks so excited that she almost jumps up and down.

They get to hold a small conversation in sign, and Nando loves catching up with Kyra but sort of loves even more how Quinn smiles as he watches them talk, like he’s glad they’re interacting, and it’s just— it’s wholesome. It’s great. Kyra is great, and he’s just so happy for Quinn that he gets to see her and all his tour friends again. He was sad to part with them at the end of the summer.

Kyra’s mom is in the city with her, so they part ways when she arrives; Quinn has another brief and very fast sign conversation with her as she’s leaving. Nando figures it’s probably just ‘see you tomorrow,’ but you never know.

“Baby,” he whispers, leaning down to him as they start side-by-side toward the elevator, “you have to hear about the churro I found this morning.”

Quinn laughs, and looks up to him, winding his arm in his elbow. Nando thinks they were meant to fit together this way. It’s so natural, and so easy. “I would love to hear about that.”

“I took pictures and everything,” he says, then pauses to press the button and hail the elevator. He looks to him again to add, “But also, how was rehearsal? Can I take you out to lunch?”

“Out to lunch?” Quinn swoons. “You must be trying to get in my good graces.”

He pretends to pout. “Am I not already in your good graces?”

Quinn swats at his chest. “Oh, don’t be a drama queen.”

He kind of wants to point out that Quinn, rather than he, is the one who just got out of several hours of pro theatre rehearsal— but he guesses that would be telling him what he already knows. Instead, he grins and shrugs, then kisses his forehead. The elevator dings upon arrival. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he says, and they have a very good afternoon.

*

Thursday

 It’s absolutely frigid outside, and it’s six in the morning, and Quinn is having the time of his life.

He’s huddled on a couch with his castmates, in a trailer, waiting for the day to begin— though he supposes it’s already started, given his five o’clock wake-up call. He thought the tour was exciting, and truly, it was, but this is a whole other excitement entirely— being in New York, with so many performers all in one small place, knowing what lies in store for his day.

Life, he thinks, is maybe a dream come true right now. From coming here with Sebastián to getting to perform, there are so many things he’s grateful for, so many experiences he feels so lucky to have. This is no exception, as he sits in the trailer, with space heaters warming his feet and cast friends on either side. It’s like being back on tour, except this time, it’s one time only. He has to make it count.

And… yes. Quinn is decided. He is going to be completely obnoxious on Instagram today. To start it out, he nudges Kyra, who sits directly next to him, and opens the front camera on his phone.

Kyra lights up for the camera— she truly is the human embodiment of the sun, and Quinn is honestly a little jealous of how good and put-together she already looks at six in the morning. She’s wearing yellow earmuffs that sort of match the gold rims on her glasses, and she hooks an arm around his neck to lean into the picture. Her cheek is warm against his, and he laughs. On his other side, their friend Minji pushes into the camera, too, and flashes a heart at the camera with her thumb and pointer picture together.

Are you posting that? Minji asks, once he’s snapped the selfie.

He puts his phone down and grins. Obviously, I’m posting it.

He’s hunting for stickers to put it on his story when it becomes something of a ‘thing’— the various other friends and castmates around him realize he’s taking pictures, and then, right as he gets the selfie up on his story with a little turkey sticker, everyone is clustering for another.

Group shot!

Let us be on your Instagram!

Yeah, we need a reunion picture.

Hang on, he tells them, and laughs, then climbs up onto the edge of the couch. He faces them to add, I’m not tall enough for that, and while they laugh at his height’s expense, he rolls his eyes and opens his camera again.

Smile! he signs into the camera, and then clicks the button a few times so he’ll have options to choose from. This one should be a post, not a story, he decides. He thinks there are enough cast members in it to maybe send it to production staff. Not to pat himself on the back or anything. Really, he just wants to document these moments with his friends, while they’re all still in one place again.

Oh, you know what we should do? he says to Kyra, as he’s sitting down on the arm of the couch. A before and after picture, with costumes.

Kyra grins, and she nods. They did posts like that several times, over tour— a picture before you get costumed, and then the same picture but after you’re ready to go onstage. We should make a TikTok, Kyra says.

He laughs. Oh, goodness, he says, but he knows he’ll probably wind up doing just that. He has a feeling his social media will be quite alive and well by the end of the day today.

He wants to hold every part of this day in his memory, so he’ll never forget what this feels like.

*

It’s been three months since Quinn got to be Moritz Stiefel.

Though it took a lot out of him this summer, it’s a role he’s missed sorely, and he doesn’t usually get to go back to playing characters whose shows have come to a close for him. He supposes today is a bit of an exception, and, to be sure, he’s been excited for today since the very moment he learned this performance would be happening— but it’s not real, exactly, until he sees himself in a mirror, in costume.

He knows this version of himself, though he hasn’t seen it in awhile. His hair is mussed up, and the school uniform costume fits just as it’s supposed to, with a crooked tie and a tall pair of socks. He isn’t mic’d yet— that’s a step they’ll reach later this morning, with the sound technicians at the parade, and his hearing aids have been out for several hours; they’re tucked into his jacket pocket right now.

The mirror in the trailer is small, and he smiles at himself in it. He always likes this part, performing— when he gets to see himself as the character he’s going to be. Today, it’ll only be for five minutes— but five minutes of glory, on television, with his friends from the summer, and so they’re bound to be some of the most exhilarating five minutes of his life.

He doesn’t want to get a big head, but the fact that so many people will be watching… that’s a lot to take in. On the street, in person, Sebastián will be watching, too, and that’s something he’s very mindful of.

Kyra is putting flowers into her hair, at the small mirror next to him. He grabs his phone to wave it at her, and she grins, then signs for him to wait one second, so he does.

Just like old times, she says, when she’s done, and then lets him take their picture in the mirror. He sends it off to Sebastián first, then puts it on his steadily growing Instagram story.

It is just like old times. Quinn doesn’t want the day to be over, and it’s barely begun.

*

Of all the places he’s performed, Quinn has to say that the streets of New York City rank high.

The morning is a blur— move from place to place, let people tell you where to be, get briefed by tech people who know a lot more about what’s going on than he does. Comply, because that’s what you do. Warm up your voice. Take so many pictures that your phone starts to yell at you that it’s running out of storage.

From a distance, spot someone who looks an awful lot like your boyfriend on the side of the street. You can tell it’s him, because you knit that red scarf for him two Christmases ago. It’s his color, undoubtedly. Kyra signs his name at him from afar, but he doesn’t see either of you. Until you go on.

You get a little nervous, but you don’t have time to be nervous, because you’re on the move and you’re waiting to perform, and then— you blink, a rush of adrenaline, and it’s over.

And you just did what actors all over the country dream of doing.

There aren’t words for that in English or in sign.

*

Friday

 On Friday morning, when Quinn wakes up, it’s snowing.

He doesn’t realize it at first. He’s tucked beneath Sebastián in their hotel bed, waking from a sleep so deep and welcome it felt truly heavenly, buried between covers and warm weight. He opens his eyes to gentle, natural light in the room, a sure sign they slept in, and he blinks a few times before he realizes what he’s seeing in the nearby window.

Snow. So much snow, and falling fast. Goodness, it’s beautiful. The view isn’t bad, either; Manhattan is a sea of buildings, and this snapshot of glass is only a glance. The snow is so peaceful, coupled with the thought that they have nowhere to go, nowhere to be. After the dream come true that was yesterday— the parade, the performance, getting dinner with Sebastián and Kyra at some diner with no other patrons in the middle of the Thanksgiving afternoon— he could use to rest and reflect.

Quinn knows it’s cliché, but he truly does love this city.

He threads his fingers into Sebastián’s curls, and pulls his head close to his chest, and rests in bed while he watches the snow come down.

Some time later, when Sebastián has woken, he gets to spend a lazy, snowy morning in bed, and between gentle kisses, he tells him there’s nowhere else he would rather be.

*

Saturday

 “Can you keep up, baby?”

Nando knows a retort is coming before it even does, but he still grins when Quinn pipes up, from a few feet behind him, “Oh, you just mind your business, Sebastián; I am fine.”

As if to prove it, he closes the small space between them and skates up by his side. Nando knows that getting out on the ice and immediately taunting him was not practical, but it was entertaining, and he likes that Quinn’s cheeks are flushing now. He holds out his elbow, like a peace offering, and Quinn wraps his gloved hand up in it.

“You wanna take a winter stroll?” Nando asks him, with a wink down in his direction.

“This is hardly a stroll,” Quinn replies, in that know-it-all voice that drives Nando crazy in the best way possible. “It’s more of a glide,” he adds, and with that, they start skating along.

“That’s fair,” Nando replies, and tips his head up to take in the view.

He couldn’t spend any weekend even slightly related to the holiday season in New York City without going ice skating under the huge tree. Because first of all, it’s in every New York Christmas movie ever, and second, one of his and Quinn’s first dates was skating, and third, he fricking loves to skate, and fourth, this is his life, so there.

“This is breathtaking,” Quinn remarks, and that’s an understatement. There are enough lights on the tree to probably show up from space, and Nando has learned over the past few days how huge this city actually is, but being right here in the middle of everything just reinforces that truth. They skate along in the throngs of other people, which is part of the tourist experience, and honestly just makes it even better. Nando has seen this on TV so many times. He can’t believe he’s actually here. Pretty much everything about this weekend has been like some kind of dream situation where crazy things you imagine actually come true.

And speaking of dreams. He looks down to Quinn, and it’s, like, okay— cheesy, but the lights are all reflecting in his eyes, and he’s bundled in his scarf and peacoat, and he’s the prettiest thing Nando has ever seen. Including the giant tree. Including everything.

Quinn catches him looking. Of course he does. He smiles, rosy-cheeked and windblown, and hums, “What?”

“I love you,” Nando replies, and kisses him right in the middle of everything.

Quinn laughs out of the kiss. He stays tight on his arm, and somehow, they keep skating without falling. Nando thanks his hockey side for that.

“I love you, too,” Quinn replies, and his voice could block out all the noise of the whole city.

They’re the center of the world.

*

Sunday

Kiersey, NH

 The whole way home to Kiersey, Quinn sleeps on Sebastián’s shoulder.

It’s unintentional, but peaceful all the same, dreams full of memories of the weekend. He gets into his seat at Grand Central Station, slumps against him, and wakes to his gentle nudging hours later, so they can change trains in Boston. The next ride is shorter, but he rests again anyways, and the gray November day is dimming outside the train windows when he opens his eyes at the Kiersey station.

They walk back to campus— it isn’t far. Sebastián is holding both of their bags, and Quinn is holding nothing but his arm. It’s chilly, but bundled up, it isn’t so bad. With this boy, Quinn is so very warm. By the time they round the corner onto Beech Street, lines of student houses with warm windows stretching down either side of the familiar road, the sun has gone down.

On the front steps, Quinn pulls his hands out and looks up to him. He hasn’t had his hearing aids on in over twenty-four hours, and it’s been the most liberating and lovely experience. Before they re-enter the chaos of the hockey house and he’ll have to put them in again, he wants to sign him one last thing.

Thank you for joining me, he says, once he has his gaze. I love you so much.

Sebastián smiles. He puts the bags down by the door, rests both hands on his shoulders, and kisses him gently. No wintry breeze could stop the warmth in Quinn’s chest.

When he’s pulled back, Sebastián replies, I’d join you anywhere. I love you, too.

Quinn beams at him, and with one more shared, quiet moment, Sebastián picks up the bags, and Quinn leans into the front door and pushes it open. Hey, people! he reads on Sebastián’s lips, no doubt a loud exclamation, as they cross the threshold together. We’re home!

Home, indeed. Quinn closes the door behind them, and the warm, familiar, slightly chaotic embrace of Beech Street welcomes them back.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

On Your Side (Part 4)

Summary: The reader reconnects with an old friend and Jared and Gen’s relationship moves to the next step...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jared x daughter!reader

Word Count: 5,800ish

Warnings: language, mentioned past self-harm, disrespectful boyfriend

A/N: Enjoy!

_____

One Month Later

“Yo, kiddo, you seen…” trailed off Jensen as he walked around the side of your house, Henry immediately sitting up from where you’d been making out on the back patio. “What’s all this?”

“Math homework,” you said, Henry nodding.

“Is that what they call it these days? Used to be first base when I was your age,” he said. “Which is as far as this is gonna go, isn’t it?”

“Mhm,” said Henry.

“Smart boy,” said Jensen with a chuckle. “So...you seen your dad around?”

“Obviously not,” you said, glancing at Henry.

“Must still be on his date,” he said. “Tell him to call me when you see him.”

“Okay,” you said, Jensen standing there and watching Henry. “Do you need anything else?”

“Remember what I said kid,” said Jensen, Henry nodding. “I’ll see you around, kiddo.”

“Who was that?” he asked when Jensen left.

“My Uncle. Don’t worry about him,” you said. You went back to kissing him, Henry sliding a hand up your leg. You pushed it back, guiding his hand up to the back of your neck instead. He moved it down your back and let it settle on the small of your back for a moment before he dipped his fingers under your shirt.

“Dude,” you said, breaking apart and pushing his hand back. 

“What?”

“Let’s just make out, alright?” you said. He held up his hands and you returned to your kiss, Henry keeping his hands off of you before he slid his hand up your back again. You broke off and scoffed.

“What the fuck? I said-” you got out before he put a hand on your mouth and pushed you back against the lounge chair.

“We’re alone. Just relax,” he said. You glared at him and kneed him in the groin, rolling out from under him. “Y/N, calm down.”

“I thought you were my friend. Is this why half the girls at school give you dirty looks? You know you always said it was because your family doesn’t have as much money as the rest of the class but I have a feeling it’s for something else,” you said. 

“Most of the girls in school are sluts and you know it,” he said.

“Well I ain’t one of ‘em,” you said. “Get out.”

“We’ll go inside and up to your room. I got protection,” he said.

“I said get-” you said before he pushed you up against the side of the house. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“You’re nervous. Let’s just go inside,” he said, grabbing your arm and pulling you around the side of the house. You punched him in the arm and started to knee him again.

“Get the fuck off!” you shouted.

“Y/N, shut up,” growled Henry.

“I’d listen to her kid unless you want an even bigger problem,” you heard. You spun around, Jensen’s car still in the driveway as he walked over. “Don’t even make me ask twice.”

Henry dropped his hand away and you quickly walked behind Jensen.

“Go in the house and call the police,” he said to you, Henry rolling his eyes. “Now.”

“Do I have really shitty taste in guys?” you asked Jensen a few hours later as you sat on the front step, your dad still talking to the police.

“No. That kid is bad news and it sounds like you’re the first girl that stood up to him,” he said. “Plus he’s eighteen so that’ll be extra fun for the little shithead.”

“Why can’t I like girls,” you groaned. “Girls are nice.”

“Yeah, yeah they are,” he said. “Boys are nice too. Just not that one.”

“Why’d you stick around?” you asked.

“I was dropping off some yard tools for your dad in the garage. I’d just finished up when I heard you two arguing,” he said. “So what was your plan if I wasn’t around?”

“Kick his ass,” you said.

“I like it,” he said with a laugh, throwing an arm over your shoulders. “Maybe you’ll find a nice boy or girl at college.”

“I like boys, Jensen,” you said. “I liked Chris. Chris was sweet. We only broke it off because he moved halfway across the country.”

“You still talk to him?” he asked. You shook your head and he frowned.

“We wanted a clean break,” you said. “We thought it’d make it easier.”

“Maybe you should talk to your actual best friend again. I liked Chris too. Maybe he misses you just as much,” he said. “Long distance can work. De and I are experts.”

“Maybe I’ll call him,” you said. Your dad walked over as you saw the cruiser pull away. He took a seat next to you, resting his elbows on his knees. “You okay?”

“Yeah. You?” he asked.

“Mhm,” you said.

“There’s going to be a bigger investigation at the school, see how far this goes,” he said. “I’m proud of you, for not letting him push you into something you didn’t want.”

“Yeah,” you said. Jensen excused himself and said he’d stop back later, your dad quiet for a few minutes when you were alone. “I think I’m gonna call Chris later. I feel kinda crappy and he was always good at making me feel better.”

“Okay,” he said. “I was gonna have Gen and the kids over for dinner but-”

“Have them over. You’re more shook up than I am,” you said. “I want them here.”

“Okay, baby. They can come.”

“Well someone looks happy,” said your dad when you snuck down around midnight for some ice cream. He and Gen were cuddled up on the couch, the kids long since passed out in the other guest rooms.

“Chris and I talked for a while. We’re uh, back together. He wants to go to UT next year too so we’re gonna try long distance in the meantime,” you said with a small smile.

“Good for you. Jensen and De got loads of tips on making it work too,” he said. “Maybe if you get some straight A’s your first quarter, a little plane ticket up to visit over winter break could be in order.”

“Really?” you asked.

“Really. Straight A’s though,” he said. You smiled and headed over to the freezer, grabbing a pint and a spoon, turning around to head back upstairs when you paused. “Yes?”

“Are we going to grandma and grandpa’s for thanksgiving next week?” you asked.

“Yes. Why?”

“Just curious,” you said, glancing at Gen quick.

“I see,” he said. “Well Gen and the kids are going to join us if that’s alright.”

“Yeah, cool,” you said with a nod. “Night.”

“Night baby.”

“Night, Y/N,” said Gen. You hopped up the stairs, pausing when you got out of view. “You think she wants us there?”

“Hey, eavesdropper,” he said as you froze. “I know you’re there. Come on back.”

You stepped down a few steps, glancing over at them. 

“Well?”

“I want them to come,” you mumbled, your dad putting a hand to his ear. “You’re a loser. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he chuckled as you went back up the stairs. “I told you she likes you guys.”

“I know. I just worry,” said Gen.

“Yeah, well, you shouldn’t,” you called down. 

“I guess I won’t then,” she laughed. “Goodnight, kiddo.”

“Night, Gen.”

Two Months Later

“You know, I don’t think I hate pink as much as I used to,” you said, Eric looking bored out of his mind from his chair across from you. “Pink’s not really a winter dance color though. Unless it was a very muted pink. I’m torn. What are your thoughts?”

“I think you’re being a little shit today,” he said, breaking into a smile. “Is a dress color really what’s on your mind?”

“Yeah. Chris is coming so I got to be able to tell him what color tie to wear so we match,” you said. “Or maybe just a flower, corsage thing.”

“White and silver are winter colors,” he said with a sigh.

“Yeah but then you blend in with everything. Come on Eric. I need a man’s perspective on this,” you said.

“I don’t get paid enough for this,” he chuckled. “Go with lilac. It doesn’t blend but it’s colorful and not too bright.”

“You’re right. You don’t get paid enough,” you said, getting a laugh out of him. “Lilac it is.”

“Well now that we’ve solved that problem, what else is going on? I feel like I’m pulling for stuff lately,” he said.

“Nothing really. I’m not as embarrassed to talk about what I’m feeling anymore and even if I am, I’ll push myself through it and it’s saving me a lot of stress and anxiety. I’m happy. I have Chris back, I’m going to UT in the fall for film. Gen and the kids are going to move in with us next month when her lease is up. I’m happier I guess,” you said.

“Tuesday’s only from now on,” he said with a smile. You cocked your head, Eric leaning forward in his seat. “We’re dropping our Thursday session. I don’t think you need it anymore. Once a week is good, don’t you think?”

“Yeah. I can still come right?” you asked.

“Of course. I’d definitely like us to keep a weekly session and when you start school in the fall, we’ll figure out the best day and time to do that for your classes. I mean, you’re not here against your will. Maybe that first session you felt like you were but I think you enjoy coming here and getting to vent, get a different opinion on things,” he said.

“I do. Maybe not at first but it’s good. Even if sometimes all I have to complain about is dress colors,” you said.

“Some days I wish all of my patients would only have that as their complaint,” he joked. “So you mentioned Gen and the kids are going to be moving in soon. You want to tell me anything about that?”

“Not really sure what you want me to say,” you said. 

“It can be good news,” he said. “Does that make you happy?”

“Yeah. They spent the holidays with us and the kids call me big sister now,” you said, ducking your head down.

“Do you like being a big sister?” he asked.

“Yeah. Not really sure what I’m doing but it’s not weird or awkward. We all get along. I actually miss them sometimes,” you said.

“Well they’re your family,” he said.

“I think dad’s thinking of asking Gen to move in permanently if this goes well. The next few months I mean,” you said.

“Marriage?” he asked and you nodded. “Would you be okay with that? Your dad getting married?”

“Yeah. I like that there’s someone around to take care of him. Uncle Jensen always does a good job of that but he goes home to his own house and he can’t always be around. Gen’s...there. She was a little hurt too and they just get each other. It’s nice having her around,” you said.

“For your dad or for you?” he asked.

“I think at first for him but now both of us,” you said.

“Good. I’m glad,” he said. “It sounds like you two get along. It’s probably a little strange for her to suddenly have an older child in her life.”

“I know it is. But she got used to it pretty quick I think,” you said.

“So anything else on your mind?” he asked.

“Prom’s in three months. We should definitely discusses that,” you said, Eric groaning as you laughed. “I’m just kidding.”

“Alright, smartass. Anything else burning at you or do you want to end early today?” he asked.

“I’m good. I’ll see you next Tuesday then?” you asked.

“I’ll see you on Tuesday kid,” he said. “I still want you doing your homework.”

“I will. I promise.”

“Y/N,” said your dad a few days later, walking straight into your room without knocking. You lifted your head up from your english paper, your dad stealing your computer away. 

“I was-” you said as he stood there, opening up his palm, showing you a razor blade. One with a dried red edge. “Dad.”

“Show me your arms,” he said. You pushed up the sleeves of your sweatshirt, watching him nod. “Change into shorts and show me.”

“Dad I didn’t,” you said. He stared at you, lifting his chin. “Dad. I didn’t. I swear. Please believe me. I’m doing good. Eric even dropped me down to once a week. I wouldn’t.”

“It was in the bottom of the dryer,” he said. 

“Dad, I swear on my life it’s not mine,” you said.

“Well it’s not mine,” he said. “Considering we’re the only two people that live here, I say somebody’s lying.”

“You almost died because I did that. It took me a month to be able to even shave in the shower without being sick to my stomach. Don’t you dare think I would ever let that happen again. I would talk to you. I would talk to someone,” you said. He stared at you and then the blade.

“I believe you,” he said. “But it doesn’t explain where it came from.”

“Well what did you wash?” you asked.

“Some of your old sports stuff I was going to donate,” he said. You tilted your head and scrunched up your face.

“My old school hoodie was in there, wasn’t it,” you said.

“Yeah. It was. I thought you threw away the blade,” he said.

“I did. I...I got the first one from woodshop before soccer practice one day. I did the cuts and I thought I lost it in the girls locker room so I stole another which I used for the other time. That’s the one I threw away. I thought the first one was gone,” you said.

“Why don’t we throw out this one too?” he said with a smile. You nodded and went downstairs with him, letting him hand it over to you before you chucked it in the trashcan outside. “Good girl. You scared me for a minute there.”

“I’m not perfect but no one is. I’m never doing that again no matter what. I promise,” you said. 

“Okay,” he said. “There’s something else I wanted to talk to you about.”

“What?” you asked as you headed back inside.

“I heard from your birth mom yesterday,” he said. 

“And,” you said dryly.

“She’d like to meet you,” he said.

“She wants to meet me,” you laughed, running your hand through your hair. “That’s rich.”

“I got the feeling it wasn’t from a place of...genuinely wanting to have a relationship,” he said.

“I turn eighteen soon. I bet she thinks I get access to some kind of trust fund. I wonder what she wants,” you said, walking around the kitchen island. “You know what? Tell her she had her chance. She had her chance for nearly eighteen years. She gave me up and that was her choice. It’s mine to say no too.”

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“I’ve got a mom. Tell her I don’t need another one, especially one like her,” you said. 

“Just because I think she’s up to something doesn’t mean she is. All you wanted when you were a little girl was to know your mom,” he said.

“I am not a little girl anymore. I got over the fact she didn’t want me a long time ago. You know who I want to know? Gen. I want to know more about her. She actually talks to me and takes an interest in me and it’s not just because of you. She cares about me. That kind of woman is my mother. Not some bitch that sees a money train coming her way,” you said.

“You don’t call people bitch,” he said.

“I know it got nasty those first few days after I was born. I’ve talked to grandma and grandpa. She was a bitch to you. Not being ready to be a mom is one thing. Saying all the shit she did to you is another,” you said. “I know she tried for three days to try and get you to give me up for her. Why on earth would I ever want to speak to someone like that? I don’t care if she’s changed or if she’s genuine. I don’t want her in my life.”

“It’s your choice,” he said with a nod. “I never knew you were this angry about it.”

“I’m not angry, dad. I’m just amazed that she thinks she can manipulate me. I’m smart because of you. I can see through her bullshit. She’s just nothing to me, plain and simple. I never had a mom, not until recently and I’m okay with that. I just don’t want her to bother me.”

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll let her know.”

“Thanks,” you said, heading back for your room. 

“You think of Gen as your mom?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you said, looking over your shoulder. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” he said with a smile. “Yeah, that’s really okay.”

“You’re gonna marry her someday, aren’t you,” you said.

“I don’t know. We got to see how this living together thing goes first,” he said.

“You’re gonna marry her,” you said with a smile.

“How do you know?” he asked.

“Because you love her and she gets you,” you said.

“Maybe. Let’s not use the M word around Gen though. I don’t want to freak her out,” he said.

“You guys love each other. Why wouldn’t you get married?” you asked. He opened his mouth but nothing came out.

“Just keep a lid on it for now. Like I said, we’ll see how moving in goes first,” he said. “Please?”

“I won’t say anything,” you said. He nodded and you headed back upstairs. You finished with your english paper half an hour later and wandered out to the guest rooms, leaning in the doorway of one.

“What are you doing?” he asked, carrying the laundry basket down the hall to your room.

“We should probably empty the rooms out,” you said.

“I was planning on shoving the furniture in storage for now,” he said. “That won’t take too long. Maybe a day but Jensen and I can do that one day while you’re at school.”

“Odette should get this room. It has its own bathroom. The boys can share the hallway one,” you said.

“Probably a good idea,” he said, rubbing a hand up and down your back. “What are you thinking? You want to paint it pink?”

“No,” you laughed. “I was just thinking, we could do something to make it easier, you know? They’ve moved a few times already the past few years. It’s hard when you’re a kid.”

“You done with your paper?” he asked. You hummed and he gave you a smile. “Give me ten minutes and then we can take a ride to the store, see if big sister can’t pick some homecoming presents for ‘em.”

One Month Later

“Odette,” you laughed, picking her up off of your bed. “You gotta sleep in your room.”

“This is my room,” she giggled.

“No,” you said, picking her up and settling her on your hip. You carried her a little down the hall and set her down, Odette running over to her toddler bed and hoping up. “You like your new room?”

“Uh huh. It’s so big!” she said. 

“I know,” you said, Odette giving her new teddy bear you’d picked out for her a death grip of a hug. “Go to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning okay?”

“Okay. I love you!” she said.

“I love you too,” you said, giving her a quick hug before you left and pulled her door shut. You wandered out to your loft area, surprisingly not yet filled with toys but the boys were sat in front of the TV playing a racing game, despite being put to bed half an hour before. “Sup guys. Aren’t you two supposed to be in bed?”

“Don’t tell,” said Tom. 

“Yeah, don’t tell,” said Shep.

“I won’t if I get to play,” you said. They quickly looked at each other and soon you had a remote in your hand. Fifteen minutes later you saw Gen poke her head in, frowning at the boys. 

“Bed you two,” she said. They both groaned but did as told, telling you goodnight as she put them back to bed.

“How’s it going up here?” asked your dad as he came upstairs, taking a seat on the couch beside you.

“All three of them are excited. Odette’s out cold. The boys just wanted to play a little longer,” you said.

“They’re both down,” said Gen, sitting down on your other side when she returned. “Oh boy, I hope they weren’t beating you too badly.”

“I was in first thank you very much,” you said.

“Ah, come on. They’re little boys. You ain’t going to let ‘em win a few rounds?” asked your dad.

“There’s no loyalties in Mario Kart. You know that. Besides, they won some too. They can actually race unlike someone I know,” you said.

“Oh really?” he said, grabbing one of the remotes, tossing the other to Gen. “Loser does laundry for the week.”

“Deal,” you said.

“Is this really how you guys do chores?” asked Gen.

“Sometimes,” said Jared, Gen raising an eyebrow before smirking. “Don’t tell me you’re secretly good at this.”

“Me with three kids? No. Never.”

“Fell in love with a liar,” said your dad when you were heading to bed, Gen giggling as she poked him in the chest. 

“You lost fair and square,” she said.

“Doesn’t feel like I lost,” he said. You shook your head and went down the hall, getting a goodnight from them both. You smiled as you crawled in bed, spotting a text from Chris saying goodnight. You shot him back one, setting your phone aside as you settled in for some sleep.

Five Months Later

“Alright,” said your dad, standing in the kitchen, messing with his tie again, his groomsmen all groaning at him. “Did I do it again?”

“Yes,” you growled, walking over and undoing it for him again. “Stop touching.”

“Sorry. Never done this before,” he said, lifting his chin as you fixed it for him.

“We’ll I’ve never been in a wedding before so relax,” you said, smoothing down his coat when he finished. “Okay?”

“Yeah, cool as a cucumber,” he said. You gave him a smile and spun around. “You almost ready to go?”

“I’ve been ready,” you said. “Already got my before pictures done by the photographer too.”

“So nothing to do but kill time,” he said. Jensen nodded outside and you grabbed your dad’s hand, pulling him out the back door and over towards the pool. You kicked off your heels and pulled up your dress, sticking your feet in the water. “What are you doing?”

“Keeping you busy,” you said, kicking your feet lightly. He chuckled and took a seat, peeling off his socks and shoes. He rolled up his pants and stuck his feet in, a bit of tension running out of him. “What are you worried about?”

“You know in an hour, it’s not just us anymore, kiddo,” he said.

“It was never just us,” you said.

“I guess you really did grow up,” he said.

“Well you got another fifteen years before Odette’s my age,” you said. 

“Don’t remind me,” he laughed. “Well, even if you are oldest now, you’re still my baby girl.”

“Never would have guessed,” you said, earning a shoulder bump from him. “Aren’t you glad I texted Gen now?”

“I was glad back then. I couldn’t exactly say that though. Teachable moment and all that,” he said. “But yes, I’m very happy you went behind my back and did that. You happy to have a bigger family now?”

“I’m glad you got somebody to look out for you and Gen’s got somebody that’ll do that for her. The kids have a dad that actually loves them now. I’m pretty happy,” you said.

“Me too,” he said. “I know this all came together pretty fast but I do have a surprise for you later today.”

“You could always tell me early?” you said, giving him puppy dog eyes.

“Hey, kiddo,” you heard Jensen say. He spun his keys in his hands, giving you a smile. “Your dad looks like he’s still a bit nervous. Want to drive him today?”

“I thought I was riding with…” you trailed off, noticing it was a much older style key he was playing with. “No way.”

“What the hell,” he said with a smile. “You want to take Baby for a spin or what?”

“Fuck yeah,” you said, pulling your feet out of the pool, getting a laugh from them both. “Come on. I’ve been waiting my whole life for this.”

“Alright,” said your dad as he stood up, letting you pull him to his feet. “Just don’t scratch her. We wouldn’t want to see Uncle Jensen blow a fuse.”

“It’s just a car,” he said. “But seriously, don’t scratch her.”

“I won’t,” you said, taking the keys from his hands. “Come on. We got a wedding to go to.”

“Excuse me,” you heard that night. You broke away from Chris, smiling when you saw your dad. “Like your surprise?”

“He’s alright,” you said, Chris smirking at you. 

“Thanks for inviting me, Mr. Padalecki,” he said.

“Well I know you two don’t get to see each other that often. I figure this will hold you over until you move down for school in a month,” he said. 

“We appreciate it,” you said, giving Chris a quick kiss. 

“I’m glad. Now come on and give your old man a dance,” he said.

“Dad, I don’t dance,” you said.

“Yes you do. Normally it’s when you think you’re home alone but you do,” he said. You shook your head and let him pull you over to the dance floor, noticing the song change and people move off. You saw Gen dancing nearby with the other kids, your head cocking. “I got to embarrass you when I can. It’s in the dad handbook.”

“Loser,” you said with a smile.

“I learned it from you,” he said giving it right back. “You got your sandals on now?”

“I ditched the heels as soon as I could,” you said.

“Good. Hold on,” he said. He spun you around one and then twice, pulling you back into his chest. 

You felt a hand tap your shoulder, Gen taking hold of your hand as your dad took hold of Odette and spun her around, giving the boys a turn each. You were laughing when you were spun around to face a photographer, all six of you in the shot before the song changed again and people started to come back. 

“Thanks for the dance, baby,” he said.

“...Maybe one more,” you said, getting an eyebrow raise from him. “Don’t get used to it.”

“I’ll pretend not to,” he laughed. “You owe Chris a dance too I would think.”

“Oh, he’s different. He hates dancing more than I do,” you said.

“So you force him to dance,” he said.

“Naturally,” you said.

“That’s my girl.”

Three Months Later

“Mom! Y/N’s being gross!” shouted Tom.

“Stay out of my room and you won’t have to see it,” you said, Chris laughing when Tom went back in his room with a sigh.

“If you two are gonna make out, could you shut the door at least?” asked your dad with a sigh when he looked down the hall.

“I thought there was a no doors shut with boys in the room rule,” you said.

“For all our sakes, please shut the door,” he said. 

“What about that sleepover rule?” you asked.

“Lil Pads…” he said, narrowing his eyes. 

“We’ll just stay in your dorm room,” you whispered, Chris chuckling until he caught your dad’s face. “What?”

“I don’t want to know,” he said. “Aren’t you two supposed to be studying anyways?”

“We did,” you said.

“Mhm,” said your dad. “Try not to scar your little brother too much, okay?”

“What’s the fun in that?” you said. 

“Little brothers are very fun to torture,” said Chris.

“I suppose you could have fallen in love with a worse boy,” sighed your dad.

“Can you go be sappy somewhere else?” you asked.

“Yes actually. I came up here to ask a favor. Babysit tonight?” he asked.

“Chris can sleepover tonight?” you asked.

“He can sleep on the floor,” he said.

“Deal,” you said. 

“You’re watching the Ackles crew too,” he said.

“We can handle it,” you said. “Have fun.”

“We will,” he said. “I left takeout money on the counter.”

“Thank you very much,” you said, giving him a smile.

“Alright, alright. Go back to whatever you were doing,” he said as he pulled the door shut for you.

“Now, where were we?”

Jared’s POV

“You’re not gonna turn on the back lights or anything are you?” asked Gen that night. I chuckled and shook my head, staring out the bedroom window down at the pool. 

“No. They’re both eighteen. They’re adults,” I said, smirking as Y/N and Chris hopped back and forth between playing in the shallow end and kissing obnoxiously. “Can’t blame ‘em for doing what we’ve done plenty of times.”

“She really likes him you know,” said Gen, tugging on my arm away from the window, pulling the curtains shut.

“She loves him. That’s what scares me,” I said.

“Why?” she asked as she pulled off her shirt.

“I thought I had that at her age,” I said. 

“You didn’t have that, Jared,” she said. 

“I’ve certainly never felt like I did when I met you,” I said. “She’s just so young. She and Chris dated from the time she was fifteen and they took about six months off. I just…”

“You think those two are the real deal?” asked Gen.

“Yeah. I know they are,” I said with a sigh. “She is not getting married until she graduates from college though.”

“I think you got time,” she said. “A lot can happen in four years.”

“A lot can happen in a year,” I said with a smile, sitting down on the bed, Gen walking in front of me and wrapping me up in a hug. “You know we only met because Y/N and I were driving back from therapy...that stemmed from the fact she wanted me to find someone.”

“Life’s funny,” said Gen. “She’s had a rough year...and a good year.”

“Sometimes I wonder how much I screwed up,” I said. “But sometimes I’m glad I whacked my head. She got help, we got you, three more munchkins...she got her boyfriend back.”

“You didn’t screw up. She’s pretty great...even if she did ruin our after date plans like that,” laughed Gen.

“Eh, we could just make out in our comfy bed though,” I said, grabbing her hips and picking her up onto the bed.

“That is an excellent idea,” she said, lowering her head just as a knock came at the door. 

“Duty calls,” I said. I rolled off the bed and unlocked the door, Odette standing there in her pajamas, Y/N’s door just barely closing, the two of them giggling as I saw the water in the hall. “Nightmare?”

“Daddy, there’s a monster in the closet,” she said.

“You know I used to kill monsters professionally,” I said.

“Really?” she asked, Y/N’s door opening. Her hair was wet and she had on one of Chris’ sweatshirts as she wiped up the floor, giving us both a look.

“Daddy’s really good at getting rid of monsters,” she said with a smile, quickly ducking in the laundry room.

“Well you heard your sister,” I said, following Odette back to her room, nearly bumping into Y/N once I got Odette back to sleep. “Enjoy your swim?”

“Mhm,” she said. She paused and gave me a big hug.

“What’s that for?”

“It was a year ago. When you fell,” she said. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” I said, kissing the top of her head. “Promise.”

“Good,” she said as she pulled back. “Night dad.”

“Night baby,” I said as she slipped back in her room. I checked on the others quick before heading back to the bedroom, smiling as I grabbed Gen and pulled her into a deep kiss. “I love you so much. I love all of you so fucking much.”

“I’ll take it you had a good year yourself,” she laughed.

“Best year ever.”

______

[mysweetestcreature]

Tomorrow Never Knows (President!Harry) Chapter 10: Not a Bad Thing

(Banner by the wonderful noblewomankat!)

***

Monday November 24, 2008

It’s been days since they’ve had a normal conversation...or any decent form of communication for the matter. This past week had consisted of multiple attempts (on her part) to talk to him, but each time he’d make up some excuse to cut all dialogue short. “My mum’s waiting for me outside, maybe next time?” or “I’m actually late for practice, but I’ll catch up with you later,” but of course he never did. Beyond her comprehension is how she had managed to mess everything up so badly in so little time. 

Eleven minutes. 

Harry had arrived eleven minutes after she had accepted Jasper’s invitation. There’s nothing she can say that can justify why she’d done it because even she isn’t so sure. Maybe she was scared. She’d been so hopeful about where this friendship with him would lead them once before, and it had costed her the first heartbreak of her life. The biggest part of her wanted so badly to wait for Harry to ask her, but a small yet seemingly influential nerve had let her insecurities take over. 

She wishes she hadn’t cared so much about what other people had thought, and instead used her own judgement. She hadn’t realized just how difficult it would be for their roles to be reversed, and she only has herself to blame for it.

“I wish you’d stop stressing,” Cici tells her as they do their warmup stretches. “I doubt he’ll be able to stay mad at you for much longer.”  

“You might be wrong for once,” she smiles sadly, facing down to stare numbly ahead as she reaches for her toes. 

Once she and Harry had parted (or more accurately, when Harry had left her standing ashamed in the hallway), Cici had found her sitting on the floor beside her locker, a somber expression painted all over her face.  

“I messed up,” is all she had mustered up in that moment of fragility, dejected eyes having fallen into her lap. And Cici –– who had already passed an equally, if not more, crestfallen boy on her way to find Y/n –– was readily equipped with her words of enthusiasm, even if she was quite disappointed in the turnout of the day. “You made one mistake –– it doesn’t make you a bad person.” Doesn’t it, though? 

Cici scoffs as she tightens her ponytail. “I am many things, but I am never wrong,” she says in a matter-of-fact tone –– almost arrogantly, if you ask Y/n –– before standing up and brushing the wrinkles from her skirt. “It’s not in my vocabulary.”

“But it’s in mine, apparently,” her lips curve down. 

“I didn’t mean it like–”

“I know.” She rises to her feet. “It was a stupid decision and I wish I could redo it, but I can’t now. He can barely stand to be in the same room as me for more than a class period. He hasn’t dropped by the Home Ec. Room in who knows how long, and I haven’t been able to make a decent pumpkin pie since. Me? Screw up a pie? That doesn’t happen! This weekend I typed out twenty-seven texts that I never sent. Twenty-seven, Cici! Who does something like that?! All saying the same thing, that I like him so much that it makes my heart go crazy, and how it hurts that he might think otherwise because I’m going to this stupid dance with someone who’s not Harry and it fucking sucks!”

It leaves her chest to heave heavily, and her lungs to feel completely depleted of any oxygen. With an outburst like that, she’s managed to surprise herself. And while conversations amongst the other cheerleaders continue, it feels like she’s once again in the spotlight as the heat creeps up her neck and settles on her forehead and the apples of her cheeks. 

Cici stands in front of her, eyes rounded in astonishment and mouth hung open wide. Her eyes quickly dart down at her arm. 

“You’ve never cussed before, I literally just got chills!”

A smile slowly reemerges. “It felt good,” she admits, and she breathes out in relief as her shoulders feel lifted from at least a portion of the weight that had been set upon them. “I’ve been holding that one in.”

“No, that was totally clear.”

A restful silence falls upon them, and Y/n makes it an opportunity to reflect on the upcoming days. She needs to fix this and salvage whatever she can before they permanently fall apart. Hating to sound dramatic, but she has a strong feeling that if they can’t recover from this, then it could be over for good. 

And that’s just not in the cards.

“I’m going to tell him.”

***

Tuesday November 25, 2008

“Got any plans for Thanksgiving?” Maxxie asks him.

Harry lets out a heavy sigh, staring down at his jumbled pile of flashcards on his desk. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been thinking about it constantly because it had been toying with his mind for the better part of the weekend. “You could say that, I guess.”

The answer, in all its vague glory brings about an amused grin from the boy across from him. Maxxie leans over the table and goes as far to lift his hips off the chair just invade his personal space. “What was that tone?” he gawks, wiping the cards off the surface of the table.

“Well...” he starts off timidly (a bit of annoyance mixed in because he’s going to have to clean up the mess later), and a small burp erupts from the back of his throat as a sign of his mild discomfort. “I was sort of...maybe...actually invited to...” but the tail of the sentence is nearly undecipherable to the human ear. 

Maxxie squints his blue eyes across from him. “What was that? I didn’t quite catch all of it.”

Blowing out the air from his lungs, Harry’s head falls back so all he has to focus on are the dull cracks in the ceiling. Part of him still doesn’t believe it, or rather hadn’t thought it an admissible option given the recent events. He pokes his inner cheek outwards before letting out a tired groan. “We’re spending it with Y/n’s family, okay? There, I said it.”

“You’re bluffing!” 

Harry whistles out a breath. “Not today, mate,” he chortles, rubbing the base of his palm against his left eye. “Jeremy literally asked my mum the day after...well, you know.”

“Are you going to be able to manage it?” there’s a weariness in Maxxie’s voice.

But honestly, Harry doesn’t know. Yes, he’s still broken up about the whole thing. Yet, the hardest part is being next to her and feeling as though he’s missed every chance that he’s had at being hers. Because he’s sure it’ll take him a long time before he’s over her, and that’s what hurts the most.

***

On Day 6, Pattern D finds itself at ten in the morning, the third class of the Tuesday before Thanksgiving break. To Y/n it’ll be the first class she has with Harry, meaning another chance to get things straightened out between them. Now that their positions are reversed, she feels even worse about having treated him so harshly the month before when there had been a hefty cloak of uncertainty to keep things understandably complicated. 

Just as Mr. Daughtry’s door comes into sight, her path is intercepted by a body suddenly appearing before her.   

“Hey, you!” Jasper greets her with a bright grin. There’s a moment of clumsiness when she predicts his fluid movements based on how his arm extends and fingers point in her direction as they rise to the height of her shoulder. In a slight panic, she twists arounds, pretending to fish for a pencil from the side pouch of her backpack. Luckily (for him) he’s able to stop himself from proceeding, and he shrugs the action off as he stretches that same arm over his head. With a skittish laugh he continues. “I feel like I haven’t seen much of you this week.”

“I’ve just been busy,” she mumbles, hugging her grey math notebook close to her chin. She can’t help but wonder if he isn’t late to some class, or club meeting, or some discussion about hair accessories (the latter causes her to snigger to herself). 

Jasper simply nods, pulling slightly on the knot of his tie. “So, I told my mom about the formal and she’s super stoked that we’re going together,” he blushes. “I mean, I’m really happy you said yes.”

Meanwhile, the metallic taste of blood starts to fill her mouth the longer she keeps her tongue trapped between her teeth. “Yeah...” she struggles to find her voice. The right thing to do would be to come clean, to be straightforward with him and give him the honest answer he had deserved from the beginning. 

Blowing the air from her nostrils, she parts her lips as they wrap around the words. “Jasper, I actually need to talk to you about that...”

“Karan! What’s up, man?” 

She forces an unbothered appearance in front of Jasper’s friend –– Karan –– as they start a whole conversation of their own. 

This is something she’s found to dislike very much, how Jasper always seems to forget that his friends aren’t her friends...well, at least none that she particularly like enough to call by such an intimate name. It bothers her because she doesn’t know if she can walk away or if this boy has any intention of including her or even continuing with what they’d started only minutes before. 

She taps her foot contempt, not even caring if either find her actions to be tactless. All Jasper does is shoot half a smile before carrying on talking about the latest scandal to hit the tenth grade. 

“I should really get to class,” she meddles in the momentary pause between speakers. “See you around.” 

Before Jasper can send her off with a proper goodbye, she turns around and keeps en route for the classroom. As soon as she’s about to cross under the arch, she collides with another body, notebook falling from her hands and falling open-faced on the floor. 

“’m sorry,” the other rushes out, his voice all too recognizable to her ears. Harry quickly picks up the notebook and holds it out for her to take, but all she notices is how his eyes remain low and unwilling to look at her. 

“Thank you,” she whispers. He gives her a nod in response before signaling for her to go enter ahead of him. But she stays in glued in place. “Do you think we can...”

“There might be a pop quiz, I heard,” he interrupts, his hand finding the small of her back to gently prod her into the room. Despite it being nothing more than a graze of his fingers over her sweater, she still feels jolts of electricity run up her spine and tickle the back of neck. 

With their arrival being just a minute or so before roll call, the only available seats are towards the very rear, two desks grouped together and pushed in the far-right corner of the room. His hand falls back to his side, the absence of his touch leaving her colder than she had just been. It makes her frown, and as they make their way to the back, the space between them only grows. 

For her, this has to be the most difficult consequence to deal with. 

“Alright, since everyone is settled in,” Mr. Daughtry starts, uncapping a blue dry erase marker. “Let’s go over last night’s homework.” And he ponders down at the reference notes on the podium, before the shrill squeaks of the marker against the whiteboard slowly begin to reveal an equation. 

Beside her, Harry opens up his notebook, each homework problem neatly organized (this includes all the work he’d done to solve them) over two pages. She looks straight ahead, slightly squinting so she can decipher the correct answers on the board. “How is it 43?” she asks under her breath, staring down at problem #5.

“It was a negative two, not positive...which would mean b becomes positive in the expression,” he answers. He orients his notes towards her. “Right there,” he points to it with tip of his pencil. He leans in a little closer, elbow coming to rest on the table as his head tilts in her direction. Her heart goes crazy as he goes on to explain the steps of the equation. It’s the first time in days he’s willingly talked to her, even if it is about schoolwork. But she forces herself to shake off the feeling for the time being, if only to prevent herself from messing this up. 

“How’d I even...” And she cross checks with his work, brows curling inward. “Oh, I’m such dummy. I didn’t even notice that!” she shakes her head and rubs her eraser over the page. 

He looks at her for the first time today with a prelude of the softest smile. “You’re not.” 

She offers him a toothy grin as she settles back down. Every now and again will she sneak an admiring gaze. 

***

“Harry!” she calls after him. In the short period of time she’d taken to pack her things, he had already fled the room by the time she looked up. It took squeezing her way through two bulky juniors from their class to quickly find his mop of brown curls in the crowded corridor. 

At the sound of his name, he begrudgingly comes to a stop. He sighs and scratches the back of his head, his internal monologue arguing that he should continue forward. The decision is to be outweighed by a greater influence. 

“Hi,” Y/n says in a bit of a wheeze. 

“Hi,” he returns, nodding. He watches as those around them disperse in their difference directions, until the hallway soon becomes barren during this first lunch period. “What’s going on?” he asks simply. 

She absentmindedly goes to mess with a loose strand of hair. “I was just...” she snivels (allergy season can be a real nuisance). “Wanted to say that I’m really looking forward to Thursday.” 

“Oh,” his mouth forms an o with his lips. He glances to the floor and wriggles his feet as though pebbles were buried in his shoes. “Yeah, I think my mum’s bringing trifle or some kind of dessert.” 

“That’s sweet of her,” she affirms. “Are you excited?” 

Harry looks up, noticing the hope embedded in her eyes. “It could be fun,” he says evenly. “Your dad seems pretty keen on watching the Packers game together. Mason, too, I guess.”

“Mason hasn’t stopped talking about it,” she admits shyly, but can’t help but giggle at the thought of her brother. “You know, he told his teacher that you were his best friend.”

It’s Harry’s turn to laugh. “Really?” Y/n nods enthusiastically. “He’s a cool kid. Tell him I’m honored.” 

“You can always tell him on Thursday.” 

Harry smiles. “I will.” 

***

Thursday November 27, 2008

Thanksgiving Day has never been more stressful for Y/n. Not only has she been baking since last night (did someone say four different flavors of pie and three fall-themed cookies, and a carrot cake bigger than her dad’s head?) but she must have changed her outfit at least nine times in the last half hour. The Styles’ are expected to arrive at around 5pm, which means she only has another forty-five minutes to come up with the perfect ensemble. Earlier in the afternoon, it had just occurred to her that she hasn’t met Anne nor Gemma, and she’d be dishonest if she said she wasn’t ultra-nervous about it.

Gosh, how her stomach feels so full of air.

She wishes she could be as carefree as Mason because all he’s been fretting over is which boardgame to play with Harry after dinner and which Disney movie he’s going to have running on the laptop whilst Jeremy slaves away to the television at approximately 8pm. 

“Do you think Harry likes Monopoly or Connect Four?” the little boy asks. She tears her attention from her cookie display to look down at her brother who’s holding two boxes up for her to examine.

“But, Mase,” she giggles, wiping her hands on her apron. “You don’t know how to play Monopoly.”

Mason looks at the box in his right hand and eyes it carefully. He gives her a signal of understanding before trotting off back into the living room to set up. Shaking her head, she continues setting up the cookies along the three-tier server. Hopefully, it’ll be enough to impress their guests. “It’ll be fine,” she tells herself.

***

The doorbell rings, and almost instantly does it cause alarm within Y/n. 

“Oh my god!” she panics, running around the kitchen to quadruple check that everything is exactly as it should be. “Dad! Dad! Did you–”

“Yes.”

“How about the–”

“Yes.”

“Okay but what about–”

“Y/n,” Jeremy says sternly from the foyer. She closes her eyes as she listens to the bottom rim of the door brush along the mat. “Welcome! Nice to see you again, Anne. Harry, ready for that Packers game? Oh, hello! I don’t think I’ve met you yet?”

Her eyes widen, he must be talking to Gemma! Harry had told her stories about how close they are since Anne’s job requires a lot of traveling. Oh gosh, she must hate her for having done what she did to her brother. She knows this because she would absolutely despise anyone who would ever dare to hurt Mason. “I think I’m going to be sick,” she breathes unevenly and braces herself over the counter. 

“Not to validate anything your father says,” Olivia sneaks up from behind, “but you really do need to relax.” She takes a good look at her daughter. “Weren’t you wearing the brown sweater?”

But before Y/n has the chance to answer, three new faces enter from the side, her heart skipping over multiple beats as she becomes tightlipped. 

“Hello!” Olivia greets them. “We’re so happy to have you join us! I’m Olivia, by the way.”

Harry’s sister nudges him from behind. “Oh, um...” he looks behind him. “This is my mum Anne, and my sister Gemma.” 

“So nice to meet you,” Anne smiles, and she extends a hand to Olivia, Gemma does the same. “You have such beautiful home. Are those chrysanths you have along the walkway? They’re absolutely stunning!” 

Olivia covers a hand over her heart. “I like you already,” she sobs playfully. “Finally, someone who gets it! Two kids and neither of them share a love for gardening.” 

“You can say that again,” Anne returns. The two share a laugh, and Olivia leads them into the dining room to continue on with their chat. 

It leaves Y/n with Harry and Gemma, and she isn’t even sure where Jeremy might have wandered off to now. Harry whispers something into Gemma’s ear, and she rolls her eyes before shoving her elbow into his side. Y/n can’t help but wonder what he’s saying. Is it about her? Has he found something wrong? Stop this! She reaches behind her and pinches herself. Relax.

Taking a bold step forward, she strikes up conversation. “Hi, I’m Y/n.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Gemma replies, a warm aura radiating from her being.  

Y/n tilts her head.  “Good things, I hope.”

“Well,” the older girl starts, sending a smirk at her brother and sniggering when his eyes widen in realization. “This one never stops talking about you.”

Harry gasps, “Now wait just a minute.” But as soon as he’s about to come up with a rebuttal, he’s immediately attacked from behind with a hug. Short arms lock his legs together, and if it weren’t for his sister standing there for support, he would have most definitely fallen over. “There he is!” 

“Harry!” Mason giggles, reaching his arms above his head, a notorious signal for Harry to lift him up. “Did you miss me?”

“Duh!” Harry teases. “How can I not miss my bestest mate?” 

***

Dinner goes better than either she or Harry can expect. Their families seem to have taken well with one another, Anne and Olivia having already formed that instant bond over maternal care and green thumbs. Jeremy is shocked to hear that Gemma is interested in programming herself, and he’s even more impressed to learn that she’s in the process of building her own website. As for Mason, well...it’s a little hard not to fall in love this boy when all he pours out into the world is happiness, and maybe a little bit of cupcake frosting. 

A seating arrangement had predetermined their positions at the table (thanks to Olivia and her brilliant mind). As it had happened, Y/n and Harry are seated beside each other, their chairs closer than usual with the extra chair on his other side. Although, it became apparent throughout dinner of the gap –– while not visible to the human eye –– that remains between them. 

Y/n doesn’t understand why that is, especially since they’d seemed to be on better terms on Tuesday. While they hadn’t eaten lunch together, he did sit next to her during Spanish class so they could work on the conjugation exercise together. Sure, it hadn’t been the most romantic thing they could have done, but it was a start, right? But now she feels bothered that the extent of their communication today has been polite smiles and requests to pass whatever dish the other is closest to. 

Deciding she’s had enough of this, she turns to him. “I’m really glad you’re here,” she whispers to him. 

“It is the holidays, so...” he keeps his answer elusively.

She has to play it back in her mind to determine if there’s any underlying meaning behind it. Pushing around the remains of her pumpkin pie she speaks up again. “Are you still mad at me?” 

He takes his time before answering, mulling over the words carefully. Yet, there’s no intelligible way to organize them to make it sound any better. “It’s not that simple.”

And that manages to stir something within her. “It’s either yes or no.”

“Y/n,” he warns, not wanting to cause a scene in front of their families. “Now’s just not the time to talk about it.”

She scoffs, shaking her head and willing herself not to cry. “It’s never the time with you.” And she excuses herself from the table. 

***

Giving himself one last glance in the mirror, he wraps his hand around the copper knob. He takes a long breath as he prepares himself to rejoin everyone and pretend that he doesn’t wish he could be anywhere else today. For majority of the day, he had thought he’d moved on from the rejection. However, the more time he spends with her, the more those feelings regress him back to those open wounds. Despite how much he likes watching football with Jeremy and playing Connect Four with Mason, he can’t help but get distracted whenever she comes over and asks thoughtful questions about the game. And that distraction causes him to remember how difficult it’s been to keep up this charade. 

When he opens the door, he’s immediately met with her figure looking up at him with doe-like eyes. His jaw clenches as he tries to ignore how the pout on her plump lips makes a part of him go a little crazy. What’s worse is that he shouldn’t feel this way, not right now at least. Not when he’s trying to stay mad for a little while longer. 

“Please,” she starts off faintly, looking all too small as she stands before him. His expression softens only the smallest amount that she isn’t sure if maybe it was just a twitch. “Can we just talk?” She can see it in his eyes, the answer that’s about to roll off his tongue so blatantly obvious. And before he has a chance to decline, she latches onto his hand and starts to walk him towards the stairs. They’re careful not to draw attention to themselves as they practically tiptoe through the dining area where Anne and Olivia continue to share embarrassing stories from when both Harry and Y/n were much younger. 

The grip she has on him while she leads him up the steps surprises him. Her soft hand squeezes his so tightly that his palms start to sweat from the sheer pressure (and maybe from a bubbling sense of nervousness that’s brewing inside). “Is this really necessary...” he hears himself muttering out loud, even though he’s expecting no answer in return. Although, he may have just felt just the smallest bit of added compression around his fingers as they round the corner. 

Once they’re in her room, she’s sure to close the door this time around. If she’s learned anything from the numerous times they’ve been interrupted, it’s that one can never be too sure around her family –– or anyone really. She debates whether to take it all the way with caution, standing frozen as she stares down at the lock with hesitancy.

“Are you planning on keeping me hostage or something?” he chuckles lightly, plopping down on her bed, having already accepted his defeat. He combs his fingers through his hair a couple times before allowing himself the chance to relax.

She exhales fully and closes her eyes. “If that’s what it takes.” With the lock pinched securely between her fingers, the faintest sound erupts within the space. Click. “Then, yes.” Rotating on her heel, she presses her back up against the door, hand still loosely grasping the handle as she tilts her head back. She keeps her eyes low at first, but as seconds on the clock begin to outnumber them, she has no choice but to have them ascend. 

He raises an eyebrow. “Well?”

“I’m so sorry, Harry,” she says shakily, whatever confidence she had absorbed seems to have fizzled out. But she can’t back down now, not when the opportunity is right in front of her. “I knew you were going to ask me, and I swear I was going to wait but then Jasper completely caught me off guard and then everyone was watching and I just...I just didn’t...I just didn’t think. It was stupid and I know that’s not an excuse, but I just want things to go back to normal.” She crosses her arms over her chest, a twinge of embarrassment filling her as her own words repeat through her ears. 

He shifts uncomfortably. All the feelings he’d been trying to avoid are being unlocked, and there’s nothing he can do to stop it. It’s not even that he’s mad (he’s found it impossible to harvest any ill-feelings for the girl in front him), it’s more that he’s dreading whatever might come out of her mouth because he isn’t sure he can handle another rejection. “We don’t have to talk about it, really. We’re fine,” he says as neutrally as he can. 

“No, Harry. We’re not. And you know it.” 

He knows she’s right, no matter how much he wants to deny it for the sake of saving his own heart. But now that she’s locked him in, he has no choice but to confront the issue. “Look, whatever might have been between us, I’ll get over it, okay? I’ll be fine. I don’t want you to feel–”

“No!” she almost screams, and she marches right to where his knees bend off the side of the mattress with her lips pursed in a newfound determination. “That’s the complete opposite of what I want to happen.” 

His green eyes are fixed on her. “What do you mean?” he whispers. But she shakes her head, as though regretting the words to come out of her mouth. Because now they implicate her of the thing she’s been dying to say, and there’s no coming back once it’s said.

Not even thinking, he places his hands on her waist to bring her closer. She still refuses to look at him, her arms further wrapping around her vulnerable self. There’s something in the way her bottom lip moves in the slightest matter that intrigues him. And now he just needs to know. “Hey, look at me,” and he gently cups her cheek to encourage her. “What?”

She stays quiet as she tries to get her breathing back to a normal pace, but the feeling of his stare causes a sweat to form down her back. “I don’t want you to be over us.”

With that, she finally looks forward. 

It’s about time one of them be brave.

“I don’t want you to be over me,” she says in the most delicate manner. “I don’t want you to get over me because...” She uncrosses her arms, only to have them wrap around his neck as she settles between his open legs. “Because I don’t want to have to get over you.”

Their eyes meet, and she lets her forehead fall against his. The tips of their noses nudge against each other. A sigh of pure bliss fights its way out of him. He pulls her even closer, thumbs rubbing small circles into the plush of her hips. Her heart beats erratically, as does his as they bask in the echo of a declaration. Two pairs of lips pull up into benevolent smiles before finally coming together.    

Eight letters.

There are eight letters to be remained unsaid (until another time).

***

[hhemeraa-a]

Update / Haitus

I’ve been a ghost the last two weeks and I know that my last post was very succinct - which I had to delete because apparently porn blogs started reblogging it for some reason????????? And I’m just?? not in the place to deal with that.

I really hope to get back into a place where I can be here again, I know before I said I was on discord but I’ve had zero (zero) time to do literally anything else other than deal with my current situation so I’m barely even there. I do read all of your messages and I’m really sorry I haven’t responded. 

A lot of people had or have questions and wanted to know how I am, etc etc so under the cut will be a quick explanation of my absence and everything that’s happened within the last few weeks.

As some of you know, I am a Peace Corps volunteer servicing in China. I had been serving as a university English teacher for the last near 2 years. This was a very very very important and huge opportunity for me. 

Years ago when I was in college, my Mom was taking student loans out in my name while I was living with her. I went from having $54k in student debt (which is a lot already) to having about $108k in student debt in private loans. She shirked all responsibility on me, I had to graduate college early with a degree in something that I had credits in (International Studies with a focus on Chinese language and history), I was homeless for a while working random jobs, trying to join the Marine Officer program, etc etc -- needless to say, things were really really messy for a few years there. I ended up getting a really nice job for a logistics company getting paid about 2200 a month, but I was paying about 1600 a month in student loans. I had a lot of support from a friend who let me live with her and to this day I literally cannot thank her enough for everything she provided to me while I was suffering through all of this. 

After working that soul sucking job for nearly 4 years, I took a chance and applied for Peace Corps because it was an opportunity to finally make it to China. I was supposed to study abroad in college, but when my mother maxed out my debt, it was no longer feasible. I never thought I was going to get in because I had been out of school for years at that point, I had never taught English before besides 1-on-1s during college and I kind of thought I was too old???  

BUT LOW AND BEHOLD I GOT IN.  This shit meant everything to me. I was finally going to study abroad, I was finally going to have a chance to use my degree, I was finally going to have the chance to learn a language, I had an opportunity to have a complete career change. 

It was so incredibly hard though. I worked my ass off during training, I worked really really hard to integrate into my site, but if anyone has ever heard any of my horror stories of being the only foreigner in the middle of south east China, you’ll understand that it’s not always fun 😅 I even had a whole mental break down and had to be sent back to the States for 45 days so I could stop stressing, but I got my ass right back on that plane and came to finish the job I started. The low were low, but the highs were so incredibly high that it made up for every bad moment.

This program meant everything to me.  My first semester sucked ass, it was harder than I ever thought it would be. My second semester was so much better, my third semester I was over loaded with about 450+ students and 8 classes, but I was finally getting the hang of the language, the school, the people, and I had gotten the ‘ok’ from my school to work there as a full time teacher once my Peace Corps contract was finished. This?? Was such an opportunity?? I literally had started making the moves to start a life here -- at least temporarily. Work at my school as contracted teacher for a year, pass the HSK Chinese language test above a 4, use the money to find a better job in Taiwan -- there was a whole plan. 

Every year, Peace Corps meets for 1-2 weeks for In Service Training. We met from Jan. 12 - 17. Usually it’s just to reconnect and make sure all the volunteers are doing their jobs, medical check ups, etc etc etc. It’s a good time to see how other volunteers are doing. 

Jan. 17th we were formally told that the Peace Corps China program was being closed. After 2020, there would no longer be any new volunteers and that we needed to start preparing our schools for the transition. They called it a graduation, but we all knew it was a political move. For five hours, a room of 200 people ripped into the US PC HQ staff as to why they were “”graduating”” the program. They said it was because the budget didn’t call for it and that China no longer needed volunteers in their schools. Which is a lie. Tensions were already really really high, the answers kept gettin more vague, and we finally flat out asked if this was a political decision to remove Peace Corps from China. 

We didn’t get an answer. 

Needless to say, all the volunteers are livid. The information spread like wild fire to all of the schools and volunteers were faced with having to be the representative of a shitty political decision. It was extremely difficult to have to face students and try to explain that Americans don’t hate them when the political system there does. 

Chinese New Year was from Jan 25th - Jan 27th this year. I lived in Chongqing city in the Chongqing province/municipality, a city that has about 32 million people in it. During this time, the city becomes a ghost town due to the holiday being similar to Christmas/Thanksgiving where everyone goes back to their hometowns to be with family. All the shops close and for foreigners it can be difficult to find food because everything isn’t open lol. 

However on Jan. 25th was when news about the corona virus started getting around. It wasn’t very big, but the news was starting to spread. The Hubei province touches Chongqing province, so whispers were starting to come through and most information volunteers got were through foreign sources, but even my Chinese friends were telling me that I shouldn’t go out or if I do, I need to be sure to wear a mask. 

Sunday Jan. 26th, notices are starting to go up on store fronts saying that they are required by law to be closed, but I managed to find a place that was still open. News about the virus is starting to gain traction and more and more information about what is happening in Wuhan is starting to spread. My friend who is staying with me who lives in a small town near the border of Hubei (where Wuhan is placed) gets a call from his school telling him that it is safer for him to not come back to site. We are starting to hear that small towns are shutting down travel in and out, bus systems are starting to shut down and certain areas in the city are no longer allowing taxi or Didi (Chinese Uber)  services. 

Monday Jan. 27th, my friend leaves because all train and bus tickets out of the city were being canceled. My city was slowly starting to quarantine everyone. I live on campus, and when I tried to return after walking my friend to the metro, security took my temperature (with those neat little temp guns) and then wouldn’t let me in because they thought I was too warm. After arguing with them in my broken Chinese and convinced them that I lived there, they finally let me back on campus. They told me that no cars or people are allowed to go in and out anymore. 

I lived near city center and it was obvious that the government was slowly locking everyone away to try and prevent the spread, but it was so eerie and apocalyptic. We had been receiving emails from the PCChina director giving us daily updates that were inching towards the idea that all volunteers were going to be ‘consolidated’, so everyone just needed to be prepared. 

Tuesday Jan. 28th, the notice went out that the volunteers were being ‘consolidated’ to Thailand because China made it illegal for any group of 4 or more people to be together. We were only allowed 1 check in bag and we weren’t sure if we were ever going to be allowed to come back into country. People who were not at their sites were not allowed to go back to their sites. Wherever a volunteer was in that moment that we got the notice was required to get their ticket to Bangkok and leave immediately. I had to pack 2 years of my life up into a single suitcase not knowing if I was ever going to come back. 

Wednesday Jan 29th, I was on a plane and landed in Bangkok. I am a safety warden of my province and the first warden to arrive so I was in charge of all safety until staff arrived. 

But after that, things were very much in the air. We had no idea what was going to happen and every day things just got weirder and more serious and we didn’t know if at all we were going to be able to go back. We speculated a lot, as the news got worse and worse and worse. By Friday, all USA government employees were told to evacuate. No gov employee is allowed to enter China until the travel restrictions were let up, which meant that many PCChina staff - if they were to leave, would be allowed back in until China decided that it was safe enough or... if they wanted them back. 

Sunday, Feb. 2nd, all the volunteers who were at the hotel had a skype meeting with the head of the PCChina program and were told that due to the severity of the situation, all currently serving China volunteers would be forced to COS (Close of Service) by Thursday. The program was ending and we would all be sent back to our respective homes between Wednesday and Thursday. 

When I say it was the shittiest delivery of news imaginable, I cannot even put it into words. After we were all told that we could no longer return to China, we had lost our jobs, and couldn’t even say goodbye to anyone; HQ Staff had the balls to tell us that in order to get our final service allowance, we were still required to fill out paperwork and that we shouldn’t be sad. We should be happy we served at all. 

They gave no time for mourning, many of us put two years of our lives on hold to do this program, some of us don’t even have homes to go back too and they want us to make decisions in 4 days. After Thursday, they will no longer provide any assistance with travel, we do not get health insurance, the moment we COS, PC shrugs off complete responsibility of over 100+ volunteers. 

I have been so busy filling out paperwork and I have been so incredibly angry and sad and resentful that the only person I’ve told is my Dad. Returning to the USA isn’t really an option and the plan I had set into motion is now nonexistent because I’m no longer allowed in the country I gave two years of my life to until they decide that this virus has been resolved. 

I have been spending a lot of time trying to figure out where I’m going to live, what job I’m going to have, how I can get a cellphone plan, where I can go because I’m being quarantined for having been in China within the last 14 days, how to manage the money I’m getting -- everything has been changing so rapidly that I still don’t know where I’m going to be by Friday since Peace Corps is only paying for the hotel up until then. 

I promise I’m not ignoring any of you, I really really want to be in a place where I can RP and chat with y’all, but life for me right now is moving so fucking fast and I have to make so many decisions that will affect my future that I literally have not stopped going since Sunday night. 

I still stand by my last message: I really appreciate all the messages you guys have been sending me. I do read them. I just don’t want to talk. I don’t have the emotional capacity to and I haven’t even been given time to just... process and be mad. 

I promise I’ll be back, just give me some time. 

[natural-0-games]

Let The Flames Begin: Tune Tuesday

Alright y’all might have seen that this account’s been starting up for the first time in a while. We’re actually going around and doing stuff, cool. There’s one simple reason for that, and this is me, Lexi, the one behind this whole thing talking: I’ve decided to cut out all the toxic people in my life and extend my vetting for letting new people in. (queue this music because I’m allowed to have musical overlays on my textposts it’s tuesday! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M_ohWuaNPWo ) If you’ve been reading my other posts you can probably piece it all together, but in the last 6 months I found myself a decent friend group at college... at least I thought I did. See, originally it was just me and this real chill guy who I won’t say the name of because internet, so I’ll just call him E. E and I met up near the start of the school year because E was just such an approachable person that even I could overcome my big NPC energy to talk to him. We got to talking, and decided it would be cool to start up a club for RPGs at the school, so that players and gamemasters could draw from a pool of people to make sure everyone got the experience they wanted. Then came D (again, not their name because privacy, but also y’know, I can’t resist calling him a D because he’s a d i c k), he was originally pretty chill, but almost immediately he ripped the club idea from my hands and decided all on his own without any input from me or E or anyone else that the club was going to include all tabletop games. Alright not at all what the club was supposed to be about, but okay. So a month rolls by, and D has determined that the club is going to do RPGs at most once a month. You know, the thing we were designed around in the first place, not ‘each campaign once a month’ which I could vaguely see to prevent burnout but nah, nah he means ‘one official club campaign session spread across all campaigns per month’. What. The. Fuck. Then it’s October, and I’ve got this cool idea, reverse trick-or-treating, you know that thing where you go door to door and give people candy? It was gonna be nice, and cool, and I told the whole friend-group about it at the start of October. Other shit happened in October regarding people I look up to and the discontinuation of my absolute favorite show, so there’s that. But the important thing to this post happened on Halloween, that day when they all said they’d join me going around giving people candy, and we’d all have a good time. I’d arranged it for six... six rolls around, no one’s there. I check the group discord, and I’m like ‘hey, where is everybody?’ only response is from E, saying that most people are at dinner and we should probably reschedule to later. I reply that it’s understandable and rearrange for 8. I get a message from B (only time she’s mentioned) saying she’ll be able to show up for sure. No one showed up. Only one person at 10 who came to console me because I kinda exploded in the discord server because I’d been planning this all month and no one fucking showed up. Yeah I cried myself to sleep that night, don’t judge. So now it’s November, and I finally put into action a plan I’d wanted to work on since the start of college: A larp league at the school, only problem is I’m going to have to craft the system from nothing. Alright, I’ve got inspiration from said favorite show ever that was cancelled in october, I’m going to base it around that. I then tell everyone in the friend group and they encourage me, I tell them I’ll be running a christmas event after thanksgiving break, they say that’s awesome. That’s when I realized I’m going to need to make over 1200 abilities because each of the 40 classes needs 33 abilities. I asked them for any suggestions, got a grand total of 0. So I worked my ass off, far more than is healthy, and got... absolutely nowhere because there was no chance in the first place. Right before thanksgiving break I tell them ‘hey, there’s no chance of me finishing the whole system in time, we’ll use a simplified edition i’ll come up with now’ they gave approval. I made a whole mini-system on 3 hours of sleep. I went home for thanksgiving break and caused my whole family extra stress during their move by needing to make swords for this event. So the day of the event rolls around, I’ve got everything set up, I’m out of the field, waiting. The event starts at 11, and that’s when i get there. No one’s there. ‘That’s okay’ I figure, ‘they’re not exactly punctual, they’ll be here in 15-20 minutes’. They are not. At 11:30, E shows up, I ask him where the fuck everyone is. Turns out B is still asleep despite giving me confirmation she’d be here last night, D and the rest of the group are at breakfast and have no intention of showing up despite being 25 seconds away, and E doesn’t see anything wrong with this. I waited until noon, still no one, so I gave up and headed back to my dorm, I’d informed them on the discord that if no one showed up by noon I’d cancel. And I fucking seethed. These people didn’t give a single fuck about me, or my time, or my effort. And after a few hours of calming down, past the tears, past the attempts at breaking things, I got onto the discord server, and I told them, in no indirect terms, that repeatedly encouraging people to devote time and effort to projects for the group, to get them excited for their events, to say that you’ll be there, and then all ghost without a word was absolutely abusive and I didn’t want that in my life. Instead of even a single attempt at an apology, or even a bullshit excuse, they all started yelling at me and kicked me from the server, the club, and the friendgroup. So that’s where I am. I don’t give a single fuck about people who disrespect my time. I don’t give a single fuck about people who think that just because someone has bigger problems than me my problems don’t exist. I don’t give a single fuck about people who bail on plans without a warning or remorse. And I feel so free. So I’m turning all the effort on projects I was making for those toxic assholes inward, I’m making the shit I love, and if you don’t enjoy it, you don’t have to be around me or use my stuff. Sure the first few apprentice games and such will be free, and the proof-of-concept for anything will be free, but if I’ve put in serious effort? If i’ve put in 150 hours already (like on a certain larp system...) and it’s not even a tenth of the way done? You bet your left buttock that I’m not giving that away for free. If I’m going to make something I want to get something out of it. So there’s that. And just because I know I need help here, I do have some open positions: Sabrina needs a pilot, and that’s the fancy lore way of saying I desperately need an artist, because my art is shit and while I have no idea how to make UI-interactive games, I’m going to try my best to learn. Elluwen needs a pilot, and that’s still a fancy way of saying I need playtesters. I’ve been relying on my friend groups too much for this, posting a message about this new game I’ve got that’s nearly done, and waiting 2 weeks to get a single person to even try to play it. Meanwhile I’m playing it repeatedly to try to find bugs and their version is almost completely replaced. and several more... honestly to just put it clearly: I need reliable people in my life, and if that means setting up a patreon for people to see sneak peaks and be playtesters through, wonderful! If I can find an artist willing to be on call for my projects, and of course still pursue their own endeavors, I can’t afford a full-time artist, that’s amazing.

I know what you’re here for, at least on tuesday, you want the shitposts, I’ve still got those, but everything above is far more important.

This week’s themesong: Let The Flames Begin This week’s cryptic meme: Slowly ripping the limbs off an effigy This week’s mood: Focused Anger This week’s character: Lokeeda

[abroadinthedesert]

Sadness, Happiness, Stressed, De-stressed

December 12, 2017

Last Thursday school was a half day for students, while teachers had an afternoon of  professional development. Our principal thanked us for our continuing comment to our profession as we are tired, the students are tired as we have all been at for 16 weeks without a break. That is right , 16 weeks of teaching, lesson planning, corralling students to learn, and duties without a break. WOW! I can feel all that as we come down to the last two weeks before winter break. No, not Christmas break, remember I am a Muslim country. We did get a three day holiday for Mohammad ‘s birthday last month and an unexpected school cancelation last Tuesday. Why you may ask? Kuwait is trying to mediate the disputes between Qatar and the other Arab nations, and the government was closing certain roads for all the dignitaries coming to the country. The government closed all the public schools and many private schools in the area began to announce their closure (kinda of like ice days in the States). Our school announced closure very late in the evening, and many teachers had already gone to bed because school starts at 7:15 each morning and the last bus to school leaves at 6 AM (yep, I am on that bus each morning, I am NOT a morning person). I got the message right before I went to bed, so I stayed up late to read a bit more, but forgot to turn off my THREE alarms for my morning wake up process. The bad part of this unexpected free time was the fact that I did not bring my school bag home because the night before was the Music Concert for the high school band and choir, and I stayed at school to work until the concert and knew that I would not do any school work at home that night; thus, I left my bag. So I did not get that never ending grading, planning, and organizing done. I did enjoy the reading, sleeping and cat time.

I had a doctor’s appointment today to get my prescriptions refilled. I go every three months for this process. It is a process. I sit in a waiting area, get called by the doctor’s nurse (they are called sisters here) where I wait in HIS waiting area. I then get called into his office where most times I do not spend more than five minutes.  Then I am on my way to the pharmacy where I must either wait for insurance to approve the prescriptions or come the next day to pick them up. Today I waited (one hour). 

Now on to my Sadness, Happiness, Stressed, De-Stress

The negative topics first so we end on positive notes for this blog post. I am a bit sad and stressed, but the end of the semester is always SSSTTTRREEESSSFFFUUUULLL!!!!!! 

Getting three version of finals completed along with the regular teaching duties is always stressful and I should be used to this after 26 years of doing this, but every year it stresses me out. Add on to this I had procrastinated another project for the social studies that need to be done ASAP and then I need to grade AP Psychology tests. Add to this I had run out my prescriptions, especially the one that keeps me balanced and optimistic most of the time. There have been a few moments when just thinking about what needed to be done brought me close to tears. Additionally, my birthday is very close, I am turning 53. This birthday seems to be not such a happy occasion this year. Last year my AP Psychology surprised me with a birthday cake!  When your birthday is a week before Christmas your birthday seems to be overshadowed with the holiday; although my momma does wrap my presents in birthday wrapping paper and not holiday paper (happy notes!!!)! So I do not expect any birthday presents or cake this year! Should I expect to feel special after living this long? I think my expectations are set just to high. Of course Christmas is around the corner and I am not in Texas to oohhh and ahhh over the Christmas lights, decorations, and packages under the tree. Nor to enjoy all the wonderfulness that my momma creates for this her favorite holiday. I do not put any Christmasy-ness up, I would just have to put up again after the cats had fun taking it down each day. Being a mom with grown children is a bit sad. They are busy with their lives and it seems that they just do not need mom anymore. I know that they are successful, and happy with their lives, but I do miss being apart of all that. Maybe I did my mom job to well.

Typing all that lighted my heart and soul, so thanks for letting me vent my stresses, sorrows and disappointments. On to the positives!!

I bought real Dr Pepper today!!!! You think that is funny, but here in Kuwait you can buy Dr Pepper that is made in Great Britain by Coke. I only like the real Dr Pepper made in my home state of Texas. Bought three six packs from the grocery store near the school, the same grocery store near where I live does not carry it. The strange thing about US products here in Kuwait is that the store may have it one week and not the next week. So when you see it, you better buy it. One branch of the store may have it and the others do not. In fact I am taking a can of cranberry sauce I bought in the store last month  all the way to New Zealand for Christmas dinner.  So a supper happy note is that I will be spending my Christmas not with my mom, dad, papa, and son in Texas but with my daughter in New Zealand. We plan on cooking a mini US Christmas feast for ourselves and her lovely Kiwi beau. I have been to New Zealand before and it is an AWESOME place, plus the fact that I will be with my daughter camping in the summer of the Southern Hemisphere!! My momma would be proud that I have already started to pack. I am trying very hard to pack light (only a backpack). Another positive to remember is that the teacher community I live with is a great group and very supportive. We celebrated Thanksgiving together and everyone loved my “stuffing”, I laugh at this because in the South it is dressing. I learned how to make cornbread dressing working beside my momma growing up. Thanks, Mom!!! Everyone here was excited too that I had decided to stay at the school at least one more year. It is nice to be with a good group of people, but sad that some are moving on (oops, a sad note slipped in).

One last positive note before I leave you with this lengthy post. Each day before I Ieave for school I usually turn on the radio for the Leo and Boutiquali (the cats) to listen to while I am gone. The radio is tuned to BBC news, but this morning I pushed the wrong button and changed it to an Arabic station. I could not have that, after all I am trying to Americanize their little furry brains, so I quickly turned it to iPod mode so that they could listen to my entire music collection. I started in at ten minutes to six this morning and as I finish typing this at ten minutes after nine it is still playing my music. That is AMAZING!!

Please excuse my mistakes, because most of this is typed off the cuff. I do proof read before I post, but I am history major and not an English major..

So bye for now and thanks for keeping up with....Abroad in the Desert II

[dashlung62-blog]

Easy Meal Planning Tips to Use Your CSA Share

This post is from KS contributing writer Becca Stallings of The Earthling’s Handbook, with photography assistance from her son Nicholas Efran, age 13.

Two years ago, I wrote up a handy 5-step plan for using all the vegetables you receive in a weekly crate from a Community-Sponsored Agriculture farm. That article tells you all about how a CSA works on a subscription plan to bring you several pounds of organic, locally-grown produce every week. Here’s a tool for finding a CSA in your area.

My family has bought a share in Kretschmann Farm near Pittsburgh every summer since 2001. It’s fascinating to see how each vegetable appears and disappears throughout the season, from early June through mid-November. The pattern is sort of predictable, yet every year is unique.

That’s why Katie asked me to write another “how to use a week of CSA veggies” detailing my experience in the last week of July but in a different year. As you’ll see, the veggies we got this year were somewhat different than two years ago at the same time. We used the same 5 steps of veggie stewardship, and out popped some very different meals! On the other hand, the green beans found themselves in exactly the same meal as two years ago!

Not just for CSA subscribers, this strategy works anytime you have a lot of fresh produce: from your garden, from the garden of someone who likes sharing, from spotting a lot of great deals in the store or farmer’s market, from foraging, from your friend who just couldn’t resist buying a case of beautiful eggplants, etc.

Quick Review: 5 Steps for Evaluating Your Veggies

When you pick up that pile of produce, ask yourself these 5 questions:

What to swap or give away?

What needs to be eaten in the next two days?

What can wait until later?

What needs to be preserved?

What’s the plan?

Answer the first 4, and then use your answers to develop your plan for finding each veggie a good home in this week’s meals, in your freezer or pantry stash, or in a friend’s stomach! My previous article gives more detail on each question and tips on how to categorize.

One Week’s Example: Our CSA Box

I’m going to talk you through another week working through the 5 steps in our kitchen, but first I’ll have to explain our starting point.

Before This Week

Two years ago, I was able to write up our week in veggies almost with a “clean slate”–some ingredients we already had in stock came into play, but most of our meals were based around the veggies we received that week.

This year, I had decided which week I would make detailed notes about our CSA, meals, and preservation–and then, midway through the week before, I realized that the surplus of certain vegetables in that week’s crate was pushing us into some activities that would affect the new week. Instead of a “Wednesday wild card” dinner, the meal we cooked on the night we get our CSA was planned to use up the previous week’s veggies! Also, we went into the week stocked up with a healthy breakfast/snack food.

Weather conditions this year have been perfect for cucumbers, zucchini, and eggplant. I have to admit we didn’t do so well with last week’s cucumbers: We ate one with hummus, we put one in a salad, our guinea pigs ate one, and we gave away two–but we still had 4 cucumbers that got mushy and went to the compost bin. That was really a lot of cucumbers!! We should have made Cucumber Salad, which preserves them for a couple of weeks.

Last week’s CSA gave us an even larger volume of zucchini than cucumbers! (We got 6 zucchini vs. 9 cucumbers, but some of the zucchini were larger.)

Luckily, zucchini can be cooked or frozen (Kaite has 6 great preservation methods). I shredded all of it in the food processor, baked 4 loaves of whole-wheat zucchini bread, packed up 4-cup portions to freeze, and set aside 2 cups of raw grated zucchini. Those 6 zucchinis turned into 18 cups of shreds!

Tuesday night’s dinner was a slightly awkward meal of zucchini pancakes and cucumber slices with yogurt-dill dip. (The dill also was from the farm, several weeks ago—we had hung it up to dry.) My partner Daniel made the zucchini pancakes from this recipe. (It calls them “fritters,” but we thought “pancakes” would sound more appealing to the kids.) He used sharp cheddar cheese instead of Parmesan. He’d made them the previous week as well, and we were pleased that both kids ate them without complaint–one using ketchup and the other maple syrup!

We’d used a big, dark-purple Italian eggplant in chili, but we still had two thin, lilac-colored Asian eggplants. One of them was curled into this cute shape that looks like an alien pet!

When we went grocery shopping Wednesday morning before seeing our new crate of veggies, I asked my 13-year-old Nicholas what we could make to use up the eggplant. He said he would cook with my help, and we would have kebabs of eggplant and onion “and more zucchini pancakes, for protein, because they have so much egg in them.” We still had a small onion left from last week, but I reminded him that we couldn’t be certain we’d get more zucchini—although it was likely at this time of year—so we might have to thaw some.

Wednesday

Here’s what we got in this week’s CSA share!

3 cucumbers

2 Italian eggplants and 1 Asian eggplant

potatoes

carrots

4 tomatoes

kale

3 onions

green beans

2 zucchini

coffee–Of course, that isn’t grown in Pennsylvania! Kretschmann Farm has a deal with Building New Hope, a Pittsburgh non-profit that partners with coffee growers in Nicaragua. For an additional fee, we get a pound of shade-grown coffee in our CSA box once a month.

Nicholas and I started work on the kebabs: He asked me to make the pancakes while he did all the rest, occasionally asking for advice.

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I grated the smaller zucchini and adjusted the recipe to this smaller amount. I still used 1 egg and then added some breadcrumbs to soak up excess liquid. The pancakes held together pretty well, but frying them was very stressful!

I have a hard time with food that tends to burn on the outside before it’s cooked all the way through and that falls apart when you flip it. Daniel is more coordinated and less nervous than I am, so he was surprised when I thanked him so effusively for having made these before!

Meanwhile, Nicholas cut up the eggplants and tossed them with Real Salt in the colander. (This makes eggplant less bitter.) He cut the onion in big chunks and browned them in olive oil. Then he added the eggplant. He seasoned the vegetables with lemon juice, minced garlic, and bottled Tandoori Chicken Spice. He cooked them until the eggplant was soft and slightly browned.

He decided that the kebabs also should include slices of hard-boiled egg. I don’t boil eggs often enough to remember the timing, so he looked it up. He assembled a variety of kebab combinations.

The kebabs were delicious! They gave us an opportunity to teach our 4-year-old Lydia how to eat a kebab safely: One hand on each end; careful of the point! Eat it like corn on the cob. Don’t bite the stick!

I didn’t think the zucchini pancakes were really necessary along with hardboiled eggs–I would rather have had chunks of zucchini cooked along with the eggplant and onions–but their flavor blended in with the vegetables’ seasoning better than I expected.

We found that the kebabs reheated well in the toaster oven (400 degrees for 7-8 minutes) and were still good on Sunday when I finished the last ones.

Thursday

Nicholas wanted to make a salad of kale and cucumbers with strawberry vinaigrette like he’d made a couple of weeks ago. This time, he added fresh strawberries and a yellow pepper we’d just bought at ALDI.

What would go with the salad? Nicholas wanted garlic mashed potatoes (our CSA potatoes) and a can of cranberry sauce: “It’ll be like Thanksgiving!” I suggested baking some fish for a Fishgiving Feast, but it was a hot day and he didn’t want the oven on while he was making the salad.

Instead, he suggested fried eggs for the protein–those of us who like sunny-side-up eggs could put them on top of our mashed potatoes and break the yolk as “gravy” for the potatoes. I don’t think I’d ever tried this before. It was good! But it didn’t seem anything like Thanksgiving dinner, even though the cranberry sauce was a nice treat. I was feeling a little tired of eggs.

Daniel cooked the potatoes and eggs while Nicholas made the salad. By the way, if you happen to have a bag of frozen strawberries (mine were on sale at GFS!), an easy way to make strawberry vinaigrette is to thaw one big strawberry, which will become so soft that you can just mash it with a fork and mix in oil, vinegar, salt, and honey.

Friday

I cooked one of our classic favorite meals: Honey Apricot Tofu, Salty String Beans, and rice. This used up the green beans from the farm and one small onion. Here’s Lydia’s serving.

Saturday

We had so many leftovers that we didn’t cook anything new today! I ate one of the tomatoes as a snack.

Sunday

I made Creamy Lentil Coconut Curry with Roasted Vegetables. My array of vegetables was different this time: no peppers, broccoli, or green beans, but I did have zucchini. Gosh, that was a lot of eggplant!

It was a cool day by summer standards, so I didn’t mind being in the room with a 400-degree oven and a steaming saucepan—but I was glad we had enough rice left over from Friday that I didn’t have to coordinate cooking that, too!

I ended up with more than enough veggies for the curry, so I froze some for other uses of roasted veggies in the future. I also set aside a jar of raw, salted eggplant for Lydia, who loves to eat it (and refuses cooked eggplant) recently! I thought I’d heard something about raw eggplant being dangerous to eat, so I looked it up–a person her size would have to eat 2 or 3 entire raw eggplants to have toxic symptoms, and she eats no more than about 1/4 of an eggplant at a time. Whatever she doesn’t eat in the next few days, I can add to marinara sauce or anytime I want to cook up a few veggies for lunch.

Monday

Because Nicholas had made Thursday’s salad only big enough for a side dish at one meal, we still had a lot of kale. I collected other vegetables to cook with it to make Hummus and Vegetable Flatbread Sandwiches. This time I used kale, carrots, onion, and tomato from the farm, plus a red pepper from ALDI. I also threw in a handful of that salted eggplant.

I always think I have too much kale to fit in my skillet . . . but after I put in as much as can and cook it for a few minutes, it gets much less fluffy so that I’m able to mix in the rest of the kale.

I didn’t cook the tomato at all, just diced it and put it and the cooked veggies into the sandwiches after toasting them and then pulling them apart with tongs.

We had a jar full of delicious sautéed veggies left over. They make a great accompaniment to scrambled eggs for breakfast!

Recently we’ve been buying white-flour tortillas at Costco because they’re cheap and taste good, but they’re not all that nutritious. If you’re up for making homemade tortillas, try Katie’s whole-wheat tortillas or gluten-free, gum-free whole-grain tortillas!

Tuesday

Daniel and Nicholas made Salmon Limone with Couscous and Zucchini Ribbon Salad, a recipe Nicholas had found on the Hello Fresh website earlier this summer and made once before. (You don’t have to subscribe to their boxed meal kits to access their recipes–but if you see a recipe you like, make sure to print it right away rather than plan to read it from your screen! We’ve learned that sometimes their recipes “disappear” from the URL where we saw them and are hard to find again!)

Ironically, although Nicholas eagerly suggested this recipe when he saw zucchini and tomatoes in our CSA box, scheduling issues pushed this meal to the end of the week when we’d already used all our zucchini and tomatoes. But when I went to our neighborhood Giant Eagle supermarket to buy them (along with the salmon, lemon, scallions, and couscous) I found great prices on zucchini and tomatoes from Brenckle’s Farm, another local organic farm that also offers a CSA. It’s only 26 miles away; Kretschmann Farm is 28 miles from our home. So we were still eating local, organic vegetables!

This meal was delicious!

Wrapping Up the Week

How did we do with our 5 steps?

What to swap or give away? This was one week when we kept everything in our share!

What needs to be eaten in the next two days? Fresh green beans last only a short time without getting moldy. We also prioritized cucumbers, kale, and zucchini but didn’t actually get through all of them in the first 48 hours–but we used them up within the week (see below) without anything spoiling!

What can wait until later? We still have some of the carrots and the coffee. These tomatoes were firm enough to be used late in the week but wouldn’t have lasted much longer.

What needs to be preserved? Roasting and sautéing more veggies than we needed for our dinners created leftovers that will keep longer than raw veggies.

What’s the plan? We’d already planned the kebabs before we saw our new veggies. On Wednesday night, we planned Thursday’s and Friday’s dinners and the Salmon Limone . . . but meal planning for the rest of the week kind of worked out as we went along. I did make a list of the veggies before putting them away so that I could see at a glance what we needed to use.

We still had two cucumbers and some potatoes, so on the Wednesday when we got our next CSA box, our dinner side dishes were mashed potatoes and cucumbers with lemon sour cream (left over from Salmon Limone), with the main dish of soy-free veggie burgers from Trader Joe’s.

What’s your approach to an abundance of vegetables?

Source: https://www.kitchenstewardship.com/csa-meal-planning-tips/

[hella-lameee]

i've actively been trying to switch to freight. right after thanksgiving i asked my asm about switching to freight when i could. this is back at the end of fucking november/beginning of december. she's like "wait a couple of weeks and i'm gonna have something open up." that's when the inventory thing came up, which was what she was referring to. 

so i signed up for that, and shortly after that's when they had an actual position open up.I talked to the same asm about it, she told me to go ahead and do the app we have to do for it and i did. all the while i've been talking to my department supervisor about it. she has even said, "id hate to lose you from my department, but i don't want to stunt you and i know you can go further in here." so she's all for helping me, is even talking to the asm about it. 

fast forward to about a week or two before the whole inventory thing starts, this is still only about a week after that position went up. that asm knew i'd applied for it and we finally got the chance to talk about it and was like "yeah, so if you like the inventory, we'll definitely get you on freight. it's gonna be the same hours as the inventory." which i'm like fuck yeah, that's full time hours. 

ffw again to after the first week of inventory, i've literally just clocked out, and i've turned to leave when that asm was like "so after this you'll be staying on overnight. permanently." i'm fucking ecstatic and like "thank you!!!" the SAME supervisor is like "what?!" from the back room all jokingly finding out i'm not coming back to the front end.

 we didn't get the chance to talk more about it then because she had to have a lil meeting and it was time for me to go. when i was leaving i told my mom and her coworker z about it, idk if i've mentioned before but my mom and i work in the same store. they were super happy for me and later that day my mom mentioned that the asm stopped by to talk to my mom and said that she was happy i got full time and she was going to go over all the benefits with me.

 mind you i haven't tried to bring it up to her during this month because everything is just too tense with the inventory going on so i was like it's better just to wait until all of this is over. besides i was already put down for garden recovery so i wasn't really concerned about it.

 i had a bunch of ppl on freight asking if i was coming over to freight after inventory, one of them being the freight supervisor, each time I'm just like "idk i'm down for garden recovery for the first two weeks right now." and then they'd ask if it was full time to which i'd answer "idk i guess? she told me it'd be the same hours." because at this point i had no confirmation and my status had yet to be updated on my self service thing online. it still said i was a cashier and part time. so i'm like "whatever maybe they haven't changed it yet." 

now that inventory is over, it still says the same thing and since it's a new month we get these lil videos that talk about different store topics each month. and ALL of my shit was STILL cashier/refunds. so i'm like fuck it. i'm just gonna ask, cause i had a feeling they were gonna toss me back to the front end after july. AFTER telling me fucking a month ago that i'd be moved to freight since you know i'd been wanting it, applied for it, and PROVED i could fucking do the job. this is tuesday morning, the very last morning of inventory, as the ppl were coming into count that day. everyone came in early, like around 4/4:30, one of them being that asm. i was sitting in one of the chairs charging my phone on break, when the asm and that supervisor came out of the facp room. and caught her real quick just to make sure that i'm staying on overnights. 

passing by was this fucking cunt of an hr worker, who everyone hates cause she can't do her job. I stopped the asm and was like "so after garden recovery am i staying on freight?" and she just kind of looks at the hr cunt and that bitch gives me like a nasty look. and the rest kinda goes like this. ASM: *looks at hr* Isn't she down for garden recovery? HR: *nasty look on face* Uh yeah she should be. Me: No, i meant after that am i staying on freight? ASM: Do you want to? Me: Uhm yeah?? so by this point i'm confused cause just a couple of weeks ago, i was told i could stay on freight if this is something that worked out.....and was told that i'd be full time............. i also forgot to mention that the two weeks of garden recovery schedule that'd been posted, i wasn't 40 hrs. then i ask, "is it full time??" and the hr lady in a nasty tone was like "only part time is available." it gets fucking better dude.she then proceeds to say, "the only full time position open is lumber recovery, what x does." which i wanted to be like, "that's not even open, he's literally training y right now. like walk out twenty steps and look down the aisle and you'll see him actively training this kid for his position." and now i'm just kind waiting for all the stress of inventory to be over and trying to figure out how to bring this up to the asm without coming off like i'm whining lmao.

[jeremietheguy]

MEPS

I arrived at Clarion Hotel in Portland on a Tuesday two days before Thanksgiving. I was to take the Air Force Officer Qualifying Test the next morning at the Military Entrance Processing Station in Portland because, well, I was applying to become an Air Force Officer and they needed to test my qualifications. My recruiter told me the military would provide me with a room, dinner, and a breakfast the next morning before bussing us (by “us” I mean all the other people staying at the hotel and going to MEPS the next day for whatever they needed to do) to MEPS.

I wandered into the lobby.

“Here for MEPS?” the front desk guy asked.

“Yeah.”

“One second, please. Joanne!”

Joanne emerged from some room farther away and instructed me to go upstairs to Room 210 and that she would be right up. I found Room 210 and waited. A few minutes later she arrived, apologized for her tardiness, and collected my ID’s.

“Now, which branch are you?” she asked.

“Air Force.”

She flipped the large binder to the Air Force page with about twenty rows of names, looked confused for a second, and turned one more page. That page had one column with one name. My name.

“Oh! You’re an Officer!”

Up to that point, I had done literally nothing yet to make me an Officer and that me being there was the first step, so I responded, “yes.”

I signed the appropriate boxes and Joanne informed me of the rules. I could use the room next door to watch TV if I wanted. I got a single room and didn’t have to share roommates because I was an Officer (which I wasn’t yet). No one else allowed in my room. Dinner started at 5. There would be a morning call at 4:15 AM tomorrow. No drugs or alcohol.

I settled my stuff in Room 206 and went back to “the room next door.”

I was greeted by a Hispanic guy sitting on a couch. And by “greeted” I mean he moved his feet a little so I could walk past him. He was watching the TV, which was playing Jarhead. I sat down in the couch next to his and watched. We both sat there, absentmindedly looking at the screen and talking about trivial matters. Mostly we were just counting down the minutes till when it would be 5 PM and dinner would start. I contemplated whether I should tell him the true meaning of the Chinese character he had tattooed on his arm. I didn’t.

We were joined by another white kid a few minutes before dinner. Dinner wasn’t bad, but then again it was hotel food. We were also all still very hungry, and a Subway a few miles away helped us out tremendously. All hail double dinners.

After dinner I returned to my solitary confinement with two double beds because Officer. I had just about 12 hours before taking a test in which I only practiced once for. There are five sections on the AFOQT: Pilot, Navigation, Academic Aptitude, Verbal, and Quantitative. The last three sections were like the SAT. They’re general knowledge and basic skills that either one knows or doesn’t know. I had somewhat prepared for the first two sections because I could actually improve at it. Pilot consisted of flying knowledge, terminology, and some aero science. Navigation included chart reading, table reading, and compass reading. The faster the better. Now, with only 12 hours left, I prepared for what I could. I Googled databases with common AFOQT Pilot questions and damn near memorized hundreds of answers. There was no knowledge or intellectualism involved. It was straight matching a question to a keyword I can remember. And that was what I did the rest of the night.

I woke up naturally before 4:15 AM, the time of my morning call. Perhaps it was the stress keeping me from sleeping soundly, or maybe it was the cold, which just wouldn’t go away. Regardless, I was awake.

Portland MEPS was located on the fourth floor of an office building in downtown Portland. Well, as downtown as downtown could be in a city of sixty thousand. We arrived on the first floor and were ushered out by a man in civilian clothing. I exited the bus and he caught sight of my hat.

“You better take that off when you go inside,” he said, quite threateningly. I took my hat off.

Once we were all indoors he ordered us to stand in rows, place our bags out on the ground in front of us, and empty the contents of our bags for inspection. We waited as he went from person to person.

From behind me, I heard him saying to some kid, “you better take your hands out of your pockets. It’s a great way for drill sergeants to find you some work to do, because that’s a sign of you not having enough work to do.”

I took my hands out of my pockets.

Once the inspection was done we climbed to the fourth floor. We waited in a large room and the anti-hat man ordered us to find the office of our branch located around the corner over there to get our documents from our liaison officer. Then, line up behind this orange line here and wait for our turn at the counter, where we would receive further instructions. I rather liked the conciseness and directness of the command.

When it was my turn at the counter I had the fortune of having the anti-hat man process my documents. I’m not being sarcastic now when I say “fortune” because he was uncharacteristically friendly.

“So, look at your name and address here, is all the information correct?” he asked with a smile.

“Yes.”

“And here, date of birth, gender…?”

“Yes.”

“Great, so you are here to take the AFOQT. Go wait in that room and someone will come in a few minutes to get you. In the meantime, you may use your phone if you want.”

“Thank you, sir.”

I didn’t use my phone. I took a seat and spaced out, only to be brought back to reality by a shorter-beard Santa Claus who sat down opposite to me.

“Hey how you doin’ there,” Santa Claus said, throwing another pile of documents on the table.

“Good, thanks.”

He flipped through the pages of the documents he brought.

“Hmm, AFOQT huh?”

“Yes.”

“Says here you know Chinese,” he said, pointing to the papers.

“Yes.”

“My man, they’re going to want you, you have no idea.”

“Good to hear.”

“Alright follow me.”

He led me pretty far back into the office. At the end of the hallway is a large door with a huge red sign keeping out all non-military personnel. Behind that door is another office, and he led me into a tiny testing room with three tables that were separated by dividers. I caught sight of his name tag, which read “Dan.”

Like most standardized tests, the AFOQT had timed sections and a couple minutes of break in between each section. For the first three sections, I finished before the time was up and therefore sat idly when Dan entered the test room to inform me that the time was up.

Before the fourth section started, Dan said, “you know what, I’m just going to leave the timer in here and you can holler if you’re done with the section. I got a feeling you would. Most test-takers I’ve had in the past don’t even finish each section before the time is up.”

Several hours and hundreds of filled Scantron bubbles later, I emerged from the test room.

“So how was it?” Dan asked.

“Fine, I thought I knew most of the answers.”

“Know what jobs you’re going for?”

“I’m thinking Intelligence right now.”

“I did Intelligence when I was in Korea. They had me listening to the North Koreans across the border.”

“During the Korean War?”

He gave me a look.

“Do I look that old? No, this was in the 80’s. See, in high school I was one of those weird kids that voluntarily took Latin so they just thought I could learn any language. Taught me Korean and there I was.”

“But you’re retired now?”

“Yeah, but right now I’m still working for the military as a civilian. Get to be closer to my folks and can take care of them.”

“That’s pretty Confucian,” I remarked.

“Yeah that’s why I explained it to you that way. I figured you’d understand,” he said knowingly.

By now it was past noon and I was starving. Most of the other recruits had either finished their physicals or got shipped off, leaving pretty much just me. MEPS had bagged lunches prepared and the beef in my sandwich tasted like sand paper. It was about as tough as sand paper too.

Before being allowed to leave I was instructed to see my liaison officer. I knocked on his slightly ajar door and went in.

“All done?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“So where are you off to now?”

“Back to school. Brunswick.”

“How’re you getting there?”

“Bus.”

“Alright, let me get you a cab to the bus station.”

He picked up his phone and started dialing. A few moments later he hung up the phone.

“So they’re pretty busy, you may have to wait at least forty minutes before they have an available cab.”

I checked the time again.

“My bus leaves in less than forty minutes.”

He threw his hands up in an I’m-not-God-there’s-nothing-I-can-do-about-this gesture.

“How about I just walk there? Shouldn’t take more than half an hour,” I suggested.

“Can’t do that. My orders are that I have to call a cab for you to a destination of your choice if no other personnel are available.”

“Well, are there…”

“No other personnel are available.”

I thought for a second and figured it out.

“Your orders are to call a cab, right? You did that already. The order didn’t say anything about making sure that I take the cab, so….”

“Don’t tell anyone.”

He released me from MEPS. I walked out into the Maine winter, feeling good for the first time in days as I look ahead to Thanksgiving break.

[teamiplier-prefrences]

Parents au

♤Ethan would be the type of dad who:

¤"Dad, I can’t go to school, I fractured my motivation.“ He laughs to hard and doesn’t bring you to school, writing a note that says how you woke up vomiting that morning.

¤finds out you cried yourself to sleep multiple nights in a row over a math project that’s supposed to be for people in the tenth grade, not for people in the sixth. Proceeds to go to twitter to rant about your school while actively brings the school to court to teach them a lesson on forcing advanced stuff on kids who should be learning the basics of multiplying decimals.

¤Conversations usually go like:

Ethan, while reading the newspaper: So, have any crushes?

Son/Daughter, embarrassed: daD!

Ethan: Do you? I saw this cute cashier when I went to the store and they’re roughly the same age as you, and has a 4.0 gpa, so I gave them your number

Son/Daughter: You can’t just give away my number to people who you think should be my s/o!

Ethan: But they have a 4.0 gpa!

¤Has one of those family member car stickers, and they’re little birds because you’re absolutely fascinated with birds.

¤"Y'know, I just realized I never gave you the talk. Let me go to the store real quick, and then I’ll tell you all about it.” He comes back with a box of condoms, a cucumber, and a doughnut and proceeds to scar the fuck out of you.

♡Amy would be the type of mom who:

¤reads alien conspiracy theories to you as a bedtime story.

¤somehow managed to convince you that she’s an alien, which by default, means you’re an alien too.

¤"Uh, Miss. Nelson? Can you please tell your child that they’re not an alien, and to please stop trying to ‘probe,’ the other students?“

¤teaches you how to do your makeup while also helping you with homework.

¤"To get the perfect wing is art, darling. But, learning how to divide 300AB^2 by 9008AB^3 is downright torture when you’re in the seventh grade. I didn’t learn that until ninth grade, at least.”

¤¤"Mom? I’m being bullied at school.“

¤¤”*sliding a pen and paper across the table to you* Write down their first and last names and what class period you have them in, and they won’t be a problem ever again.“

¤Has a 'My Band Student Child Can Kick Your Football Team Child’s Ass Any Day.’ Bumper sticker.

¤You’re a first chair trumpet, and once you told your dad, he never felt more proud of you in his in entire life.

♢Kathy would be the type of mom who:

¤"Hey darlin, your teacher called and said you had broke down crying during a test and wouldn’t tell her why. I bought pizza for dinner and we can talk about it as we watch Moana.”

¤Doesn’t matter if it’ll take seven hours to get it done, she will sit down with you at the table to help you with your homework with thirty minute breaks every ten questions.

¤Has a 'My kid isn’t an honors student, but they can kick your honor student kid’s weak ass any day of the week.’ Bumper sticker.

¤You still crawl into her bed on days where your adhd makes your mind wander dangerously when you hear noises coming from somewhere in the house.

¤¤You still crawl into her bed when there’s bad weather because you’re absolutely terrified of it.

¤¤¤To the point where you had a panic attack one night when she asked Ethan to babysit you because the thunder was too loud and the lightening was too close and the rain was hitting the house too hard, and your mom wasn’t there to protect you from the loud noises.

¤cuddles are The Best™ because she’s not a little woman, so there’s so much of her to cuddle and she’s so soft and wow your mom is the best.

♧Mark would be the type of dad who:

¤Has set rules, but they’re totally weird, and not normal rules.

¤¤"If you come home and you’re not practicing your instrument for at least ten minutes, then I’ll help you practice.“

¤¤"No macaroni on Tuesdays and Fridays.”

¤¤"Spaghetti is forbidden unless you say 'Knees Weak, Arms Heavy, Mom’s Spaghetti.’ at least once before and after you make it.“

¤¤"Dabbing is banned in this household. If I see you or any of your friends dabbing in or around this house, you’re on dish duty for a week.”

¤¤"You must pet Chica at least once a day. If you don’t, she gets sad.“

¤Made a twitter account dedicated to posting pictures of you as you grow up.

¤"Ethan, your child may have a higher gpa than mine, but at least mine can actually appreciate the art that is memes.”

¤Has a silly rivalry going between him and Ethan on who’s child is the best.

¤¤Little do either of them know, you both are dating and love each other dearly.

¤"What do you mean the bananas at school went up to a dollar? Last week they were fifty cents per banana!“

¤once you’re old enough to understand your dad makes youtube videos as a job, you decide you want to follow in his footsteps and be like him.

¤¤Cue to him holding you in his lap as you make a trial video for his channel to see how you’d do, and you playing it with him giving you tips on what to do.

¤¤¤It goes well, a lot of positive feedback and the video reached almost 100k views in less than three hours. Mark decides to let you start your own channel once you turn sixteen, so until then, you appear in some of his videos and play games with him.

¤Has a 'My Kid Can Beat Your Kid In Mario Cart # Any Day Of The Week.’ Bumper sticker

☆Tyler would be the type of dad who:

¤Let’s you have a mental health day twice a month (unless there’s a week long break in that month, like spring break, or thanksgiving).

¤Is proud of you, even when you have a ’D,’ on your report card.

¤(tw: suicidal thoughts) School made you so stressed that you literally used to spend hours on end contemplating whether or not killing yourself would make everything so much better.

¤¤(tw: suicide attempt) You actually did try to commit suicide. You regretted it because not only did you make your dad an absolute mess, you created three stacks of missed homework from school that made you wish your attempt was successful.

¤"Look, sweetheart. School’s hard, I know. I’ve been looking into online school’s and I found this one where all you have to do is go to the site for two hours for just once a week, and then you’d have to do at least three hours of work at home for the rest of the week. I want you to think over this, and as soon as your discharged, I want your full decision.”

¤Cuddles with him are The Bestest™ because he’s just so soft and warm. You always go to your dad for cuddles when you’re having a particularly rough day (which is usually when you’re sitting on your bed, looking at the closet you tried hanging yourself in.)

¤He’s even more proud of you when you start doing better in school now that you’re doing online school.

¤"Guys! The lowest grade she has on her report card is a 'B,’ and it’s in English! I’m so proud of her!“

¤Is extremely proud of you. Will make happy indirects on twitter and they’re usually like:

•"When you think of the past, you realize how far you’ve come from, and how better you’re doing.”

•"Anything you can create is and always will be deemed 'Fridge Worthy™.’ No matter if it’s a stick figure drawing, or the next Picasso painting. It’s fridge worthy.“

¤Has a 'My Kid Might Be Depressed, Anxiety-Ridden, and Stressed Out, But They Can Still Fight Your Kid In A Denny’s Parking Lot At 2 AM and Win.’ Bumper sticker.

[canaryatlaw]

So all in all, today was pretty good in a bunch of random little ways, which is cool. Alarm went off at 9:55, took the train to school. I sat next to the cutest baby on the train and he was looking at me the whole time just totally enthralled and it was so very cute so of course I was making faces at him for like half the train ride, haha. Got to school right on time for my 11:30 meeting with my field placement advisor, same one from last semester and my former LARC professor. Of course she's the perfect person for the job because she used to work in the office I work in and knows half the people that are there because of it, lol. We have to do the 3 meetings a semester as required, but at this point we've really talked through most of it so she was just asking me about what tasks they've been giving me and if I had any interesting cases, so I told her about the one I saw yesterday about the girl's whose arm was broken in four places from a "restraint" and of course she was horrified by the prospect and said it would probably be referred to special litigation for a suit against the residential facility, so that made me feel somewhat better about it. But yeah, it was a pleasant little meeting. After that I headed down to the PAD office to hang out and eat some lunch. My plan for this time was to bang out the rest of my LARC assignment, which I figured could take a while. I was debating with myself last night if I should wear or bring gym friendly clothes because Wednesday afternoons is one of my now designated "gym times," but I knew this was gonna take a while and then I had a haircut so I opted against it, but surprisingly the LARC assignment didn't take as long as I thought, pretty much just because I ran up against the word limit pretty quickly, and that's that. I know what I wrote is, objectively, good convincing legal writing, but I don't know if it follows the "formula" we're supposed to use for LARC which irritates me. I would probably put more work into it if it were actually be graded and not just a grade for handing it in, but even so it's not like I slacked off on it, I did put a solid amount of work in, so that's good. I was kind of annoyed I didn't have my gym clothes at that point, but in reality there was other stuff I needed to get done so it was probably good that I had a chance to do that. One of those things was getting the application done for the nonprofit in NYC I would like to intern at over the summer, which was interesting. They just wanted a cover letter, resume, unofficial transcript and writing sample, pretty basic, so I start writing my cover letter and I have to laugh because last year I was like struggling about what to put in a cover letter on applications, but now I literally have so much to say and talk about it was probably the longest cover letter in existence (it was almost the whole page) but I just had a lot to say and I think it was all good things to include. I just had to do the final touches on my resume, like update my GPA and changing my class rank from top 15% to top 10% (which, I have to say, was immensely gratifying). Unofficial transcript I can just get off online, so that's easy enough, so that just leaves the writing sample. They didn't give any parameters about length or anything on it, so I texted my dad and asked him if I should use one of my academic things I've written for LARC or if I should use the school memo I wrote over break, and he was like oh definitely the school memo so of course I went with that. It's like, 4 pages long, which is probably a bit long for a writing sample but I think it's all good. Of course since I was sharing it with a third party I was obligated to change the personal information, so I changed the name of the school to "Anchorage Christian School" because I figured Alaska would give them enough distance 😂 so that was good. It was just a debate between if they wanted like real world application versus the formulaic LARC stuff, and I think they would side on real world, so hopefully that'll work. It felt good to get all of that handled and turned in, since it's been in the back of my head as something I need to do for a while now. As I was getting ready to leave for my haircut, the PAD president came in and asked me if anyone has talked to me about the PAD mock trial team. One of the board members who's on the team sent out an email a few days ago basically as an SOS call that one of their members got injured and wouldn't be able to compete next month, so they needed an emergency replacement. Upon reading it I kind of had a feeling it was going to end up on my doorstep, just because of the experience I have and such, but I didn't do anything about it immediately because they practiced Tuesdays and Saturdays and I have class on Tuesdays, and that's generally a deal breaker, but it still managed to get back to me haha. The PAD president was apparently talking me up to them (he's on the school team) so I sent a tentative email saying I could maybe do it but couldn't do Tuesday practices, and then left for my haircut. As I was going down the stairs to the subway entrance there was a girl coming up and she's like "uh, you may not want to go down there, there's some guys fighting and it's not looking good" and sure enough I just hear two guys shouting at each other and random slamming into random things and such and I was like haha fuck no so I walked to the other end of the block to get in at that entrance cuz I ain't dealing with that shit. Sigh, Chicago. While on the train I got a phone call from last year's PAD president who's now one of their mock trial coaches, but since I was on the train I let it go to voicemail to deal with later. Got to ulta and saw my stylist, who immediately let spill that one of the girls in my class that she knows is pregnant, which I definitely didn't know haha but I'm sure I would find out soon enough. So that was interesting. But yeah, for the rest of it we just did our normal discussions, and we always have really good and satisfying discussions about things that I definitely enjoy. I had her do the same short cut I got in October when I was there last and then just got caught up with shit and let my hair get obscenely long and was driving me nuts so here I was again lol. Towards the end she was telling me that her cousin, who was a freshman in college, had attempted suicide a week before thanksgiving, and then had just attempted again two days ago, which is of course a very sad and difficult situation, and she wanted to hear my thoughts because she knows I'm somewhat of a mental health advocate (or at least I'd like to think I am. It's in my profile so it must be true, right?). Apparently he had been away at college, and after the first time didn't go back, but just started up again with the spring semester a few weeks ago, and he was like really insistent about going back to school which is totally understandable, the stress and the loneliness just kind of got to him, and he was saying things like "I don't want to die, I just don't know how to deal with these waves of depression." I started off by saying that no two people have the same mental health journey, and different people respond to treatment in different ways. I said he obviously needed to get into therapy that would teach him some coping skills for dealing with depressive episodes. He had been inpatient for a few days after the first one and is there again now, but I said if a longer-term inpatient program was available they might want to look into that, or at least some sort of group thing, hopefully among peers (though I imagine finding a group of teenage boys willing to participate in such a thing could definitely be a struggle). And yeah, he obviously wasn't ready to go back to school, and college can be a really big trigger for some people because it's such a life change and they just don't know how to deal with it. And of course I said try to avoid saying anything that would make him feel guilty because he's already overwhelmed with guilt, and to not treat him any different or like he's fragile, because that's not how anyone wants to be treated. She said she would tell her family what I said, so hopefully some of that could be helpful. I told her a little about my work with twloha at college and how so many have such a need for that sort of thing. He's out of school for now though, which is definitely a good move. I feel bad for his parents because I can imagine they're going through hell right now, to almost lose their son but decide to let him go back to school only for it to happen again, and now they're going to be terrified that they could pose him at any point, and I really can't imagine dealing with a child of yours being suicidal, like that has to be so so difficult for a parent, something I definitely didn't realize the extent of when I was younger, but I can see now that if I had killed myself, it would've completely destroyed and devastated my family and like....I'm just really glad I'm still here. Anyway. Left ulta and took the train back to school, heated up my food and headed to class for another session of crim pro. It's been an interesting class so far because the prof is very focused on like wanting to hear our opinions about issues in the criminal justice system and the specific questions she asks, which is cool, but like, means we don't always get into the cases and actual learning haha. Tonight we didn't actually start the cases until after the break when class was half over. She let us go at 8 though, so that was nice. Went home, and I was debating to watch Arrow or Frequency off my dvr, but I ended up being bad and staying up to watch both even though I have to be up at 7 am for work tomorrow. I watched Arrow first though, pretty much just because I was so curious to see what they were gonna do with Laurel/black siren, and it was....interesting. I didn't love it, but that's no surprise. There were some moments and some lines that were very good, but others just kind of fell flat for me. I kept getting stuck between wanting her to actually be willing to reform and become good again, but Oliver's like naive belief that he can make that happen makes me think it's not going to happen, lol, cuz he just makes it seem kind of unachievable, so I guess we'll see what happens there. I liked the Felicity not listening to Oliver just for kicks, haha, and I very much enjoyed the legal intricacies of the Diggle plot, and was quite satisfied with their conclusion there. I am definitely not a fan though of some random ass meta girl who has a sonic scream waltzing in there and just becoming the black canary because like......are you fucking kidding me? We're doing this again? Just stop, stop trying to replace Laurel and either do her justice or move on. You're just forcing comparison now, and there's a very slim chance you're going to beat your original work with Laurel. Like, just LET IT GO already. I do like that they kept the door open for more black siren, and I hope they take advantage of that because I want to see Katie Cassidy on my screen as much as possible. After that I went straight to Frequency, which of course was the season finale, and I was pretty happy with it! I knew they would have to pull something out after last week's conclusion, and I think they did an excellent job setting it up that everyone reasonably thought the deacon was the nightingale, but then were able to pull the rug out at the last minute in a way that's still actually entirely plausible, so I applaud them for not jumping the shark there. I was very entertained by the flipping back and forth and the world changing in the middle of a conversation so that you can't be talking to your mom about her patient because she just died but 20 years ago that is still playing out right now. Like, it's just so good. I felt bad for all the people that kind of became casualties, like Megan and Gordo's dad (poor Gordo, I know he didn't like his dad but no child deserves to have their father shot in front of them). And I knew her talking through the radio when the guy was there was gonna lead to him smashing it, lol, that was pretty predictable. The ending though, when she comes out of the garage and the house isn't lit up, holy shit I was ready to murder someone if they left us on a cliffhanger or just straight up killed her mom, because that would've been all kinds of awful and I really hate when shows legit don't wrap up a story just for the sake of having a cliffhanger. So I was happy to see the conclusion to that. They left it in a good place too that the story is finished, but they still left in the possibility for a second season (I don't think it's been renewed yet?) so I was glad to see that. And yeah, that was my day and I've officially rambled on for way too long here so I'm gonna end it now. Goodnight babes. Sleep well.

[michael-radi-the-glamorous-life]

"Snow Day (A Day Off)"

As a high school student, I had a fairly constant refrain:

“We need a snow day. Give us a snow day. Please.”

Now, this was not me praying or placing a sock under my pillow or attempting to bewitch the skies to make storms appear, this was me on days when school should have been cancelled due to inclement weather even though it had not been.

Some context:

I grew up in Binghamton, NY where most of our snow came from major storms across the interior or from large Nor’easters. So when we had a big storm - even though we knew how to move snow well (it’s upstate NY after all) - we had a snow day.

In high school I moved to Rochester, NY, which sees more snow each year than Binghamton does, mostly due to constant lake effect snow. Because of this, Rochester (for some reason) prides itself on moving snow so well that there’s no reason to ever have a snow day.

Um. What?

Let’s even put aside the obvious fact that big snow storms or large amounts of black ice are dangerous and potentially life-threatening, especially when you have students driving themselves and their friends to school. There’s another big reason that Snow Days are crucial: Mental Health.

1. Morale

As someone who grew up being guaranteed 2-3 Snow Days each year, I can tell you that there is no bigger boost to morale in the bleak mid-winter than a surprise day off. And not just for the students, for the teachers as well.

As soon as I was living in a place that refused to have a snow day, the effect was clear and obvious. When the weather was terrible and the snow was pretty and the winds were whipping, what I saw was:

1) Sadness at being in a place of obligation, 2) Frustration at being teased with the potential of a day off, 3) Anger at the seeming lack of value placed on student and teacher lives, 4) Distraction at the weather itself in the large windows of the classrooms, 5) Anxiety over the amount of work that still needs to be done, 6) Longing for the day off that others most certainly had, 7) Annoyance at those who chose to stay at home, and more…

These are pretty damaging effects to inflict upon an entire population of people. And why? To proudly say you never close due to snow? Sounds more like recklessness to me. Not to mention that the flexibility for up to 4 snow days is built into the school calendar.

So, what about the positive effects of having a surprise day off?

So much joy, for so many reasons. Anxiety lifts. The weight of obligation takes a day off with you. You can feel free to be distracted. You aren’t constrained by schedule. And there was a follow through on a promise of something positive. People tend to return the next day refreshed and ready for more. Morale boosted.

2. Breaks

Whether or not it is true, the Fall always feels like it has more break time built into the calendar, especially in comparison to the Winter. To be fair, Fall does have:

Labor Day to start, Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur if your school observes, Indigenous People’s (or Columbus) Day, Veteran’s Day, Parent-Teacher Conference Day(s), Thanksgiving, and a Holiday Break surrounding multiple holidays and lasting between 8-12 days. And because the calendar year changes during that long break, it feels as though the semester has ended, even though it doesn’t truly end until the end of January.

Winter feels like it has far fewer breaks. Some places have two week-long breaks (one in February and one in March/April), and other places have only one week-long break (usually in mid-March). Otherwise, there’s a small smattering of random days off.

Why is this important?

1) We all need some time to refresh. Time to be away from one another. Time to do something we enjoy and want to do. Time that isn’t structured by obligation. Time to sleep. Time with those we love.

2) Winter is dark. Darkness begets sadness. Seasonal Affective Disorder is not only real, it’s far more prevalent than most people realize. Having a break where you can spend the daylight hours in the presence of the sun is a huge boost for the mind and body.

3) Work and stress. We start off this time of year coming down from the high of the Holiday Season. Happiness and lights and decorations and candles etc. that have been adorning our homes and places of work and business…all suddenly disappear. Anxiety sets in. Then, of course, we send students into immediate mid-term testing. And then start a new semester. Sadness and let down add onto stress and extra work, and everything feels overwhelming.

When breaks are scarce, what can help? Yep, Snow Days.

3. Competition

Our competitive culture in this country is grueling. We ask far too much of the general population on a regular basis.

Now, when I speak of competition I don’t necessarily mean against other people. Sometimes it’s competition with ourselves. Or for something instead of against someone. For grades. For accomplishment. For recognition. For honors. For college. For pride. For our parents. For our teachers. For anyone who expects more of us.

And it’s often too much.

This is part of a much larger complex due to our over-bearing vulturistic capitalist society, which is something I won’t be going into here. And a snow day will not fix this system. But a day off can help ground us and remind us of who we are, what we are, why we do what we do, and that there’s so much more to life than the expectations of others. This is necessary.

“Why are we talking about Snow Days…?”

Well, friends, I had one this past Tuesday.

Those who have been reading my blog regularly will know that I have not yet had a day off in 2019, and am not scheduled to have one (of my very few this winter) until this coming weekend. So this was a surprise day off. And let me tell you, it was glorious.

It reminded me of the importance of these days to our physical and mental health, not only as students in a high school or a college, but as human beings living in this world. Sometimes we just need a day off.

One more high school anecdote:

One of my best friends in high school would occasionally not show up to school, generally with no warning. But everyone in our friend group knew what this meant: She called these “Mental Health Days.” At the time I did not understand what this meant and why this was important - and I am very lucky that was the case for me - and so we all made fun of these self-proclaimed days off. But she had it right.

We cannot work ourselves to death with obligation. We need to take care of ourselves. And when we don’t, we need surprise days off to remind us of why we need more self-care.

With my Snow Day this week I actually did 6.5 hours of work, which doesn’t sound relaxing, but it was wonderful. I took care of things I wanted to and needed to, which ultimately helped my personal mental health. I lifted the stress of other obligations and it was totally worth it. And then I rewarded myself with 5 episodes of Game of Thrones…

I mean, it was a Snow Day after all!

So, here’s to all of those with a sock under their pillow and those attempting to call forth the great snows of the northern winds: I see you and hear you, and wish you many a Snow Day in your future!

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Broken Like Me (Part 6) - Good Enough

Summary: The reader and Dean end up having their first fight and it leads to an unfortunate situation...

Masterlist

Pairing: Model!Dean x reader

Word Count: 4,500ish

Warnings: language

Tuesday Evening

“Hey, Dr. Bram,” you said, slipping into his office.

“Y/N. You look like you’re having a better day than last week,” he said.

“Well I haven’t spoken to my parents so I’m pretty great,” you said, taking a seat. He pursed his lips but didn’t say anything.

“So, how’d the essay go?” he asked.

Oh fuck.

“Y/N?” he asked.

“I may have...forgotten to do it,” you said, looking away. “Is that a new lamp? It looks great in here.”

“You didn’t do an assignment?” he asked.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

“I give them to you for a reason, Y/N. Not as a punishment,” he said.

“I know. I was busy and forgot,” you said.

“You’ve never forgotten before, no matter how busy you are,” he said, standing up and walking over to his desk.

“Are you gonna make me quit seeing you?” you asked. He stopped and turned around, coming over to your couch and taking a seat.

“How long have you known me, Y/N?” he asked.

“Four years,” you said.

“In the four years you’ve known me, have I ever said I will no longer see you if you don’t do an assignment?” he asked.

“No. I overreacted,” you said.

“Why do think that?” he asked.

“Because I feel like I lost two of my very few long term relationships I had and I don’t want to screw up and lose another one with you,” you said.

“That’s probably the most straightforward answer you’ve ever given me,” he said, patting your leg as he went back to his desk. “Also from what we discussed last week, you didn’t screw up your relationship with your parents. You had a fight with them.”

“I’m tired of being the bigger person with them though. I asked for a little bit of help, on something I really want and they told me I’m being a child and that I’m ugly,” you said.

“Those are not the words you used last week. You have not seen your parents face to face in a long time and the last memories they have of you, you were not in a good place. They might be assuming that this accident isn’t bothering you as much as it does,” he said.

“They said go to therapy back then because we don’t want to deal with you and your shit,” you said. “You, my therapist, care more about me than they do and you get paid to talk to me.”

“I don’t want to talk about your parents anymore this session. You were happy when you came in here and I want us to get back to that,” he said, grabbing a notebook and pen from his desk.

“So what are we talking about?” you asked.

“I want to know what you were so busy with that you forgot you assignment,” he said.

“It was thanksgiving this week. Shopping, that kind of stuff,” you said.

“I know what you look like when you lie, Y/N,” he said, sitting down in his chair. “You were partially upset last week because you were missing another thanksgiving.”

“I went to a friend’s family’s thanksgiving,” you said with a shrug. Dr. Bram seemed surprised but he was all smiles.

“What was that like? You’ve never had a traditional thanksgiving before,” he said.

“It was...good. There was some family drama and...well Dean’s dad is actually the one that hit me in my accident,” you said. “But once we got over the awkwardness it was okay.”

“Tell me about the day,” he said. You told him what you could remember, Dr. Bram writing a few things down, something he hadn’t really done with you since your first few sessions. “Hm, it sounds like you enjoyed yourself.”

“I did,” you said.

“What else kept you busy? Thanksgiving was only one day after all,” he said.

“I did chores on Friday since my house hadn’t been cleaned in a long time and Saturday I went to St. Louis. Sunday I did a bit of online shopping and baked some. I worked yesterday and went out for dinner and I worked today,” you said. “I guess I should have carved out a few hours for the essay.”

“You have been busy,” he said, leaning back in his seat.

“Uh huh,” you said.

“So is there anything in particular you want to talk about?” he asked. You bit your bottom lip, thinking about it. “You’re wearing a hat again I see.”

“I like hats,” you said. “It is winter.”

“True. But you’re hiding your physical appearance which is why I wanted you to write that essay in the first place,” he said.

“I can do it this week,” you said, Dr. Bram’s head shaking.

“Tell me three things you like about your physical self and I’ll let you off the hook,” he said.

“Okay,” you said. You stared at him, Dr. Bram waving his hand. “You mean right now?”

“Yes…” he said. “Come on. Number one here we go.”

“I like…” you said, trying to think of something that would satisfy him. “Um. I like...can I do this next time? Give me some time to think about it?”

“No. You had time and now I want three things you like about yourself. Go,” he said.

“I don’t know,” you said. “You try thinking of three things on the spot.”

“My hair, my eyes and my smile. Your turn,” he said.

“My hair, my eyes and my smile,” you said.

“Y/N. Focus. What do you like about yourself?” he asked.

“Nothing,” you said.

“That’s not true,” he said.

“I like that I’m smart and creative and decently witty but that’s not physical,” you said. “I’m not pretty and you making me say something isn’t going to make me believe it.”

“One thing then. One thing you like about yourself,” he said. You groaned but he sighed. “For me, Y/N. Just try.”

“I like that I look good in hats so no one ever has to see my stupid forehead again,” you said.

“Y/N, stop kidding around,” he said.

“You don’t get it. You’re a good looking guy Dr. Bram. You’re in your fifties and you’re still a good looking guy. I bet you have always had a nice face and were athletic and were a popular guy. Girls chased you around and all that. Well I’m not pretty. I’m just not. I only ever had friends or boyfriends because my family had money and they’re all gone. I am not someone that anyone wants. How do you not understand that after four years?” you said.

“I want us to take a five minute break. Stay here please,��� he said. He left his office, leaving you alone to grab one of the pillows from the couch and punch it. He returned with a bottle of water, setting it down in front of you. “That’s twice now I’ve upset you in the span of fifteen minutes. This is not normal behavior for you, Y/N.”

“You want me to say something I find attractive about myself but I can’t answer you unless I lie and I’m not supposed to lie to you so I don’t know what you want me to do,” you said.

“I want to forget about the assignment for the moment. Just tell me about your weekend.”

“Y/N,” said Dr. Bram, scratching his head at the end of the session. “I’m very confused and you typically don’t confuse me.”

“What’d I do?” you asked, staring at the clock again, Dr. Bram already calling you out on it twice and saying you could leave anytime you wanted.

“Earlier you said that you don’t find yourself pretty, that no one wants you apart from monetary reasons. Yet, you now have a boyfriend who makes you feel good and to quote you from three minutes ago, wanted. Do you see why I’m confused?” he asked.

“It’s different around Dean,” you said with a shrug.

“How so?” he asked.

“I was very rude to him on more than occasion, I’ve overreacted to something he’s said and I’ve tried to push him away. Yet he respects me and was always kind and doesn’t push me to show him my scars or...I guess a very, very small piece of me, when I’m with him and he looks at me like that, believes him when he says he thinks I’m beautiful,” you said.

“Why do you think you believe him of all people?” asked Dr. Bram.

“I think because he’s handsome and hot and he could date any girl he wanted without batting an eye. But he picked me. I thought it was pity or manipulation or him being cruel when he first wanted to be friends but he really just wanted a chance to know me because I’ve caught him staring a few times and I overheard a conversation I shouldn’t have but he cares about me and he doesn’t want anything back and I don’t…” you said, lowering your head. “I don’t know why he wants me. I don’t have anything to offer him.”

“Maybe he thinks you care about him too. Maybe he doesn’t need you to offer him anything but you’re giving him something regardless,” he said.

“But what am I giving him?” you asked.

“Who knows. Maybe you make him feel wanted too,” said Dr. Bram. You pursed your lips, giving him a look.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier,” you said.

“We’ve come a long way from your snapping days,” he said with a soft smile. “I’d still like to hear you tell me one thing you like about yourself before you go.”

“I like my eyes, the color I mean,” you said.

“That’s good enough for today,” he said, standing up. “I am giving you another assignment though and I would like you to actually do it this week, hm?”

“I’ll do it as soon as I get home tonight,” you said. “What’s the assignment?”

“I would like you to every day starting tomorrow, attempt to do something nice for someone else and something nice for yourself. Nothing big but holding a door open for someone, giving a compliment, that sort of thing,” he said.

“What’s being nice to myself?” you asked, realizing as soon as the words were out of your mouth how horrible that sounded. Dr. Bram gave you a smile though.

“Get enough sleep. Exercise. Eat healthy. Take a long bath. Take an hour everyday to focus on you for the next week. No work. No doing chores or stressing during that time. You got it?” he asked.

“I think I can manage that,” you said.

“Good,” he said. You got up, grabbing your coat from the back of the couch, Dr. Bram giving you another smile as you pulled it on. “Any plans for tonight?”

“I have a date,” you said, throwing your purse over your shoulder. “I-”

“Our session is over, Y/N. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” he said.

“Am I going too fast with him?” you asked.

“From what you’ve told me, not at all. It’s normal to want to spend time with your partner,” he said.

“We’ve been dating like four days,” you said.

“I’ve been married thirty years. I still look forward to spending time with her,” he said.

“You never talk about your wife,” you said. “I didn’t realize you’d been married that long.”

“It’s worked out so far,” he said with a smile. “Enjoy your date, Y/N.”

“Hi,” you said when you answered your door for Dean. He stepped inside, patiently waiting by the front door. “Oh, you’ve never been inside before. Uh, hall closet is right there.”

“So how was your day?” he asked as he took off his boots and coat, plopping his hat on your stair banister.

“Boring. A few meetings that could have been emails and some intern misplaced a decimal and freaked out the owner. I fixed it,” you said.

“Sounds thrilling,” he said with a chuckle.

“Therapy was the most exciting part of my day,” you said with a laugh. You didn’t frown for saying such a thing, reminding yourself that Dean wasn’t going to judge you for that. He’d gone to Dr. Bram himself when he was younger after all.

“Does Dr. Bram still take walk-ins?” asked Dean.

“Uh, I’m pretty sure he has an hour slot open every morning for it at 10,” you said. “You thinking about going?”

“Yeah. My dad and I got in a pretty big fight today,” said Dean, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I know you guys were starting to get along better.”

“You handle money and finances right?” he asked. You nodded, guiding him into the kitchen where he took a seat at the table. “He thinks I need to grow up and get a real job but this is a real job. I save my money and invest it and I know modeling isn’t a job I can do until I get into my sixties but if I’m smart now, I can take care of myself in the future, pretty well too.”

“Plenty of younger people nowadays focus on saving and retirement. A lot of us don’t want to have to be working until we’re eligible for social security. Saving and investing is a solid plan,” you said.

“That’s what I said but he doesn’t get it,” said Dean. “He’s never going to get it.”

“I don’t know your dad very well but he does love you. He’s worried about you and what’s going to happen to you. I know you’ll be okay but he’s scared you won’t be. You have to let him come to terms with that you are capable of providing for yourself,” you said. “You’ve done it for years. He’ll come around.”

“I know,” he said, leaning back in his seat, looking around the house. “This is very nice.”

“My parents bought it for me after college,” you said.

“Seriously? That’s pretty nice of them,” he said.

“Well, they sort of forgot to speak to me for like three years when they were on a stupid yacht traveling the world so they figured they’d try to buy me back with a fancy house,” you said.

“You’ve got more issues with your family than just missing thanksgivings I’m starting to see,” he said. “They never came to see you in the hospital either.”

“I don’t want to talk about them anymore,” you said, lifting the lid off a pot. You drained the water and were working on dishing up a few things when Dean started to laugh, walking towards your back window bench.

“You kept him,” said Dean, picking up a teddy bear and holding it up. “The one I gave you.”

“I had a couple of bad nights back then,” you said, carrying the plates over to the table.

“About?” he asked, setting the bear down and taking a seat.

“I had to have emergency surgery like three days in,” you said.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yeah. It was my appendix thankfully. It was damaged in the accident. They thought the swelling would go down but it turned into full on appendicitis and they had to remove it fast,” you said.

“Poor girl,” he said as you took a seat, running a hand over your head. “Can’t catch a break, can you?”

“Try some of the chicken. It’s good,” you said. Dean gave you a thumbs up after his first bite, asking for the recipe before he pulled out his phone.

“This tastes like it came from a restaurant,” he said, taking a picture of the meal in front of him. He played around on his phone for a moment, shoving it back in his pocket. Your own started to ring a few minutes later. You glanced at it, watching the name Mom pop up. Dean saw it but didn’t say anything and went back to quietly eating. You didn’t answer, another call coming in a moment later.

“Sorry,” you said, picking it up as Dean shook his head. “Hi mom.”

“What size are you? I found the cutest little dress that’d be perfect for a date,” she said.

“I don’t want a dress mom,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“Well you’re on a date now and in a ratty flannel and those awful black legging things. Class it up a little sweetie. The boys like that,” she said.

“How the fuck do you know I’m on a date?” you asked. Dean winced. You pulled your phone away, Dean pulling out his phone. He showed you the picture he’d taken, a little caption on it and he’d tagged you in it too. Thankfully your face was cut out but you groaned at the fact that it took less than five minutes for your mom to see it which meant there was no stopping it now. “Mom, stop yelling at me.”

“Do not swear at me,” she said.

“Sorry. Forget about the dress,” you said, cutting her off. “I have to go.”

“Your mom stalks your instagram I’m guessing?” asked Dean with a smile that quickly faded away. “You’re pissed.”

“Remove the post,” you said. “Now.”

“Why?” he asked.

“I’m not ready to go public and you didn’t even ask if it was okay,” you said, stabbing into your dinner. Dean tapped away on his phone, deleting the post, stabbing into his own dinner when he finished. “What are you so mad about?”

“I wanted to show off a picture of the nice dinner my girlfriend made. I didn’t realize I started the apocalypse,” he said.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” you said.

“You’re the one being dramatic,” he said. “I tagged you in a picture. What’s the big deal?”

“You’re a model. I’m not,” you said. “I don’t want random strangers looking up crap about me.”

“You don’t want anyone knowing anything about you. You don’t even have friends,” he said. “You’re like a shut in and that’s before you even had your accident.”

“Because you’re so perfect,” you snapped back. He glared at you and stood up from the table. “Yeah, running away from conflict is definitely your thing, isn’t it?”

“Don’t worry about me posting another damn thing about you,” he said, going to the front hall. He hurriedly threw on his boots as you watched and grabbed his coat, storming out the front door and slamming it shut.

You sat back down at the table and finished your meal, tossing what he didn’t eat in the trash and saving the leftovers. He was just another stupid guy and who gave a fuck if you ever saw him again. You stormed upstairs and grabbed his sweatpants out of the laundry, taking the hat he left on the banister and ripping the one off your head and clumping them in one big pile. You tore open your front door to leave them on the porch.

And there he was, with a soft face and half parted lips and his gaze went straight to your forehead.

You shoved the clothes in his arms and practically ran inside, his hand on the door just catching it.

“Y/N, wait,” he said, pushing it open as you rushed upstairs. You heard the front door close behind you as you got to your bedroom and locked the door, finding a hat and shoving it over your head. You squeezed your eyes shut and sat on the bed, knees in your chest, hoping he left soon.

But the door handle turned and you forgot you hadn’t fixed the stupid thing. You buried your face to hide it away, a soft hand pushing your hat off, someone kneeling in front of you. You felt your face get hot, tears running freely no matter how hard you tried to force them to stop. Long fingers turned your chin up so you couldn’t hide but you wouldn’t open your eyes. He couldn’t force that.

“Shh,” said Dean gently. Lips pressed softly against your scar and you felt a sob wrack your whole body into a shudder, Dean getting onto the bed and pulling you into his lap. He shushed you and wrapped his arms around you, giving your forehead a few kisses.

It took a long time to stop crying, long after you knew you’d soaked his shirt, long after you stopped being embarrassed. You were too tired to care. He thought you were pathetic. That was the only reason he stayed.

You popped open an eye and then the other, pretty green eyes staring back, no sign of anything other than love in them.

And you started to cry all over for once again thinking so negatively about this man that you didn’t deserve.

“We had a fight. I’m sorry. You’re right. I should have talked to you about posting first. I’m sorry about what I said about you being a shut in and not having friends because that is not true at all. You’re my friend, the first best friend I’ve had in a long time and I don’t want to give you up. I’m sorry, Y/N,” he said.

“You saw,” you managed to get out before you were hiding your face in his chest again, hands fisting in his shirt.

“Saw what? Your scar?” he asked.

“S’ugly,” you said, Dean forcing you away from him. “I’m ugly.”

“Y/N,” he said, both hands on your cheeks so you’d look at him. “You’re the prettiest, most beautiful, gorgeous, downright hot, woman I’ve ever seen. I have never had this feeling I do when I’m with you. I feel like I’m going to explode and it’s home all at once. I so badly wanted you to show me because you felt comfortable with it. I didn’t want this to happen on accident but it did and all I can do is stay with you and try to prove to you that you are even more amazing now.”

“How can you say that,” you said, trying to pull his hands away from your face but failing. “I’m not pretty without the scar and with it I’m hideous.”

“Agree to disagree,” he said, sliding a hand up, tracing over the skin. “I know you hate this but I love it.”

“Why?” you asked, fighting back another round of sniffles.

“It means you’re alive. I got a chance to meet you and now I get to be with you,” he said. “I wish you could see that and it’s okay that you don’t. Maybe someday you will.”

“I wish I could too,” you said, Dean pulling you back into his chest. “I’m sorry.”

“We’re okay,” he said. “We’ll figure out what you’re comfortable with sharing and go from there, okay?”

“Okay,” you said, Dean running his hand up and down your back. He shushed you for a little while longer until he made you get up and told you to take a hot shower. You did what he asked, feeling a bit better when you made your way downstairs, Dean’s two hats and his sweatpants folded neatly on the bottom step. You rounded the corner to the kitchen, the pot you hadn’t washed out yet sitting there to dry, the kitchen a bit cleaner than you were used to seeing. Dean came in through the door to the garage, shivering.

“I emptied the garbage. Your garage is freezing by the way,” he said, shaking the cold off of him.

“You cleaned,” you said. He shrugged, taking a dish towel and going to the pot, wiping it down.

“I wanted to,” he said, looking you up and down. “How was your shower?”

“Good,” you said, tucking a strand of damp hair behind your ear. You hadn’t put a hat on, Dean cocking his head at you like he was so proud of you for not hiding again. “I have leftovers if you want. I sort of ruined dinner.”

“That’s okay. I’ll just have a snack at home,” he said.

“Oh, okay,” you said.

“Or I can stay here if you want,” he said.

“Would you mind?” you asked. He shook his head, giving your cheek a kiss as he walked passed.

“I think I will take you up on those leftovers though,” he said. He moved around the kitchen like he was a little familiar with it now, taking the container from the fridge and sticking it in the microwave. You made your way into your family room, settling onto the couch and turning on the TV. Dean came in a few minutes later, scooting you farther down the couch so he could lean back in the corner. He wrapped an arm around your waist, using the other to eat out of the container as you watched. He shuffled around once he stopped eating, throwing his legs up and maneuvering you so you sat with your back to his chest, both arms loosely around you.

“Dean,” you said.

“Hm?” he hummed.

“It’s okay if you post pictures of me,” you said. “Just not-”

“Not your scar, I know,” he said.

“Is it okay if I post them of you?” you asked. He nodded, kissing your temple.

“Your hair smells so pretty,” he said, digging into his pocket for his phone.

“I don’t have my hat,” you said.

“This one is just for me. If it’s okay,” he said.

“Yeah,” you said, giving him a smile. “Just you is okay.”

A/N: Read part 7 here!

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