#move that to the honors classes in junior high and then the regular ones in HS

[amplexadversary]

Nor is foreshadowing, parallelism, character-building, or demonstrative worldbuilding.

And a disaster for the discussion of non-anime TV shows in fandom.

"Cool-down episodes" aren't filler.

[graceerodgers]

Introductory Post

Hello! My name is Gracee Rodgers. According to the obvious, my name means full of grace and some people may believe I live up to the name. If I had to choose between a new name and the one I have now I wouldn’t change it. I like my name. Simple, yet no one can seem to spell it right. I come from a Jamaican mother of five with me being number three. For me to be the middle child I tend to keep my composure very well. However, my sisters have me on the brink of insanity.

My first day of high school was boring. I went to a different school than all my friends, which I was already upset about, and it felt like a regular school day. My middle school was very small, I graduated with about 45 other 14 year olds. I knew everyone since before I could do simple multiplication and now we were all forced to go separate ways. My family and I were in the middle of moving counties and I wasn’t a big fan of the idea. I had to switch schools and endure another first day of high school. The school was bigger, the classes were bigger, and the students were bigger. I struggled to find my classes and ate lunch alone. I thought my original first day of high school was the worst it could get. I was wrong. My last day of high school was the complete opposite. I graduated my junior year and my school had several senior activities for us to participate in. My last day of high school was a great day, we had a “senior celebration”, picked up our cap and gowns, and ate. After school was done, my friends and I all went to the pool then got ice cream. I can count that day as one of my favorite high school memories, second to graduation day. Graduation day was so magical. A class size of over 550 people caused it to be hours long but everything was beautiful. Once we were officially announced high school graduates, everyone was either running, screaming, crying, or trying to find their cap that they've previously thrown. The day after, there was a big party and every junior and senior was in attendance. It was the first time I realized, I actually graduated high school. It was almost a feeling of freedom. Although I knew college was in our futures, graduation day was the first day of the rest of our lives. I loved graduation also because since I was an early graduate, many people didn’t believe that I was graduating a year early. It felt nice to prove to everyone that I was a part of the 2022 class. I had a great feeling of accomplishment and I was excited to continue that going into my college years. One of my least favorite high school memories consists of every day that we were required to do online school. It wasn’t hard, it was just a pain. Every morning I would go downstairs at my kitchen table trying to mimic how I would have been sitting in the event I was at school. It turned out to be a good plan, I was getting High Honor-Roll certificates in the mail every marking period. Online learning took more of a mental toll. I went from an extremely social and extroverted person, to an extremely anxious, social, and extroverted person. I am still social but I noticed that I now overthink almost every interaction I have with someone. If I could go back in time, I wouldn’t change anything. I’m happy with the way everything turned out, I'm proud of myself for accomplishing everything I did. Highschool is a once in a lifetime experience and I made so many connections that I can use for life.

I major in Communications and Media. When I ask myself what do I want to do for the rest of my life, my mind runs blank. I just told myself I didn’t want to wake up everyday to go to a job that I hate. I never figured out what I want to do in life or if these decisions are permanent. At 17 I cannot accurately tell someone where I would be in the next month, let alone the rest of my life. If I owned my own television show then I can say that I’ve achieved my dream job, but a lawyer, nurse, dentist, or surgeon can also be considered my dream jobs. I’m young and undecided. 

Painting is a hobby of mine I enjoy. Not quite drawing, but painting. It seems to ease my mind when I'm anxious. Every once in a while I would put on a good show and start to paint whatever I see in my mind. Last week, the night before my road test, I was so stressed. Overthinking everything and started to get upset at the thought of failing. I put on Gilmore Girls, the show that I am currently watching, and started to paint. It calmed me down a lot, and I slept well that night. Granted, the anxiety came back in the morning but the painting helped once again. Art truly warms my heart, being able to capture the beauty of lifeless or imaginative things is talent. I recently saw a painting of a woman’s body in different shades of blue. I liked the idea so I tried to recreate it from memory while incorporating my own favorite colors.

If binge watching was a sport, then someone owes me a medal. I am fascinated with Netflix series. Wednesday, Atypical, Ginny and Georgia, Bojack Horseman, and You are just a few I’ve seen. My favorites are Orange is the New Black and Money heist, highly recommend both of them. I've also watched Criminal Minds, Shameless, Pretty Little Liars, and just about every baking show on Netflix. I've been told that I have the heart of a child. I enjoy cartoons to the max. My favorite shows are Rick and Morty, Bob's Burgers, and Family guy. I also like Adventure Time, Regular Show, Teen Titans, etc. I enjoy more Cartoon Network and Adult Swim shows rather than the Disney and nickelodeon shows. Although Gravity Falls is a Disney show, in my opinion it is much more advanced than it first seems. I believe that Gravity Falls has the potential to be an adult cartoon and the writer can have much more creative flexibility. The Walking Dead is another favorite. I watched World War Z in theaters when it first came out, ever since I have been so interested in zombies. I’ve watched almost every zombie movie on Netflix. People always tell me that werewolves and vampires are more interesting but I disagree. In my mind, there is a real possibility that zombies can one day be real. When I try to think of my least favorite show nothing comes to mind. I don't watch things that do not automatically interest me. If I start a new show and I don't like the first episode, I won't continue. 

The last thing I created was a big pot of chicken alfredo, which coincidentally is one of my favorite meals. Although, If I had to choose the last meal ever I would choose a chicken-bacon quesadilla. It seems so simple but quesadillas are a comfort food for me. I don't eat them often, which keeps them special.

[study-coffee-chicago]

Who Would've Thought? A Government Teacher and an English Teacher (A Halstead Brothers + Upstead + Halstead Daughter! Imagine; Part of AU-gust)

A/N: Thank you for reading! Remember to like/reblog and comment! I'm also donating all the proceeds that from my buy me a coffee account to Save The Children to help the children of Afghanistan. Link to buy me a coffee.

Anyway, enjoy!

"Hey, I know you aren't a morning person," your dad said as he walked up to you sitting at the bar in the kitchen with a piece of paper in his hand.

"You're right, I'm not," you said.

"All I need is for you to look over the seating chart I made for the juniors."

"Make sure you didn't put people who have beef next to each other?" you asked.

"Exactly. And I figured, since it's your class, you'd be the perfect person to do it."

"And because I'm your daughter."

"That, too."

He set the paper in front of you. "Since I'm doing this for you, care to make me my coffee?" you asked

"The pumpkin spice one?" You nodded. "Kid, it's the first week of September. It's like 75 out (23.9 celsius). Fall's not even close. And, technically, it's still summer."

"Listen, Dunkin' came out with their pumpkin spice stuff in mid-August. And, you know the minute it hits September, I get in the fall mood."

"But you still won't go to a Bears game with me and your Uncle Will," he said.

"Dad, I don't understand football."

He pulled the K-Cup out and put it in the Keurig. "I told you that me and Uncle Will could teach you. And, you seem to understand it when you're at school football games."

"I just cheer when everyone else does. It's not that hard."

"Fair enough."

He pointed to the counter of the bar, so you looked down at the seating chart. You waved him back over to you as you heard the sputtering of the Keurig, telling you that all your coffee was almost in your tumbler.

You pointed to two seats. "These two girls have had beef since middle school, so throw them across the room from each other." Your dad grabbed a pen from his breast pocket and drew a line to put one of the girls on the opposite side of the room. "These two are dating, so unless you want them talking all the time, I suggest you at least move the guy to a different group." He drew another line on the seating chart. "And this guy dated these two girls, so you need to make sure that they're as far away from each other as possible."

"Which one is he dating now?" your dad asked as he drew more lines.

"Neither. He was dating both of them at the same time. Get why none of them can be by each other now?"

"Gotcha."

He took the seating chart from you and handed you your tumbler of coffee. "I don't drink it black," you said as you raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, believe me, I know, but I'll leave you to do that because I don't want to mess up your coffee to creamer ratio and have you get mad at me for it."

"Fair enough."

You sighed as you poured your creamer into your coffee because you thought about all the homework that was going to be piled on to your plate this year.

"What's wrong?" your dad asked.

"I'm gonna be drowning at the end of today."

"Can't argue with you there. But tell me if you think your homework load for APUSH (AP US History) and AP Gov (AP Government) is getting too much for one class. I'll talk to the teachers. And, you have me to help you with your government homework." He said the last part with a huge smile on his face.

"Dad," you groaned. "You've been waiting for me to be a junior forever now just so you could be my teacher."

"Yup, and you chose AP over me. How rude."

"Sorry, but college is expensive. It was only like 50 bucks a class when you went to college back in the olden days."

"Young lady, I am not old."

"Fine, you're vintage. Better?" He just glared at you while you finished stirring your coffee and then started making your breakfast. "But, at least Hail- Miss Upton doesn't give us a ton of homework because she knows we're drowning in homework already and have the SATs to worry about, so that's nice."

You were super thankful for your Honors English 11 teacher, who also taught AP Stats. She gave you at least half an hour each class period to do your homework since she knew that most of you had sports or after-school clubs or a part job to get to and didn't have all night to do homework. She was the one who also said to send her an email if you couldn't get the assignment done and she'd give you an extension. She said that your physical health and mental health were way more important than you finishing your homework.

Your dad was like that, too. Granted, he didn't give the students in his class a ton of homework to begin with, and he made the class fun...at least, that's what you heard from the kids who were juniors last year. The only time your dad really gave homework was when he gave out study guides to fill out. He'd give them out a week before the test and then after two days, he'd check that everyone got them done and go over them in class so that everyone had the right answers to study from. Mr. Jay Halstead also didn't give tests on a Monday because that was just cruel...and he knew that when he was in high school, he absolutely hated homework, so he didn't give a lot of it. And, he hated coming to school on a Monday when he forgot to study over the weekend, so he didn't give tests on Mondays.

"You're not going running this morning?" you asked as you cut up a banana to go into your oatmeal.

"No, I think I'll run with you guys after school today at practice."

Your dad was also the high school cross country coach. You weren't a fast runner by any means, but your best friend, Emma, had made it to regionals and was a great runner. And, your dad said that you either play a sport in high school or you get a job, so you joined the cross country team. In all honesty, you liked running for the endorphin rush it gave you after the run and just talking to some of your teammates while running or listening to music or podcasts while running. But, you weren't competitive, so that's probably why you weren't as fast as Emma, and your dad knew this. But, he was just glad you were being active in some way after school and that you enjoyed exercising even if you weren't the best or the fastest runner. He just wanted you to live a long and healthy life, and he knew starting to exercise in high school would help you build those healthy habits.

But, usually what your dad did in the morning was go to school at like six in the morning, so he'd be up at five, and then he'd utilize the weight room or the indoor track to workout. Then, he'd take a quick shower and get ready there, and be teaching by 7:30. Yeah, he was crazy for running that early.

"You know," you started, "Miss Upton likes to run. Maybe you should see if she'll co-coach with you? Or maybe she'll run with you in the morning?"

Jay shook his head and took a sip of his coffee. "Y/N, how many times do I have to tell you that Hailey and I are just friends. Nothing more."

"Says the man who lesson planned with her last week," you said, wiggling your eyebrows.

"Y/N, she's a coworker. I would've done that with anyone. It was just coffee. You read too much into things."

"Dad," you sighed. "You haven't dated in years."

"Yeah, since Abby dropped you off on my doorstep." He used to refer to Abby as your mom, but she wasn't around, so when you were around 14 years old, you just started referring to her as Abby. After all, you had never even met the woman, and she didn't want you, not even leaving an address on the note attached to your pajamas, so she didn't deserve the title of Mom.

"So, 17 years. You haven't dated in 17 years, Dad. You gotta get back out there. Even Uncle Will said you need to."

"You talked to your uncle about this?" he asked. "Oh, and put some egg whites in that oatmeal for some extra protein."

"What? You gonna make us lift weights today at cross country practice?"

He shrugged. "You never know. Now, no more talking to Uncle Will about my love life."

"There's not even anything to talk about. But, he does think you and Miss Upton would look cute together."

You added some egg whites to your oatmeal and put it back in the microwave for an extra minute.

"This has been going on for way too long now, Y/N. We're not gonna date. We're just friends and coworkers. Just drop it."

You put your hands up in mock surrender.

Ever since freshman year when you had Miss Upton for creative writing (yes, she taught one section of AP stats, one section of creative writing, and she also taught Honors English 11 and regular English 11 for the rest of her sections), you knew that her and your dad would be a great match. So, you confided in Emma and she agreed. Ever since then, you hadn't really let the topic go.

"Fine," you groaned...even though you and your dad both knew that the topic would not be dropped in the slightest.

"Now, do you want me to drive you, or do you want to drive yourself?"

Usually, since he left before you, you'd just drive yourself to school since you were 17 and had been driving for a year now. But, during the first week of school, your dad didn't do his morning workouts, so he always gave you the option if you wanted to ride to school with him.

You pursed your lips. "Fine. I'll ride with you, just cause it'll save me gas."

Jay laughed. "You're not even the one who pays for your gas."

He was right. He was the one who paid for your gas because you had always studied hard...and you played a sport, so you didn't have time for a part-time job. Because of this, Jay decided he'd pay for your gas. But, you did have to work a part-time job in the summer.

"Fine. It prolongs the time before I have to go to the gas station. How's that?" you asked.

"Miss Upton would be proud of how you worded that."

"Maybe you should tell her that, Dad. It'd be a great conversation starter."

***

"So," Emma began as you were warming up for your run after the school day ended, "how'd the chat with your dad go?"

You sighed while jogging. "I don't think it's ever gonna happen. He's too damn stubborn to ask her out and he claims that they're just friends and coworkers. I hate it. They'd be so damn cute together."

"I know," Emma agreed. "You know, I overheard her in the hallway between classes saying that she was going to chaperone the homecoming dance. Maybe your dad could get in on that and that's how they could talk more?" she suggested.

"Emma, that's a great idea, but I really don't want my dad at homecoming. That is awkward as hell."

Emma laughed. "Sorry, didn't think about that."

"Hustle up!" your dad yelled. "Time to stretch!"

You started your normal stretching routine before your dad started to give his normal beginning of the school year speech. "Alright, I need all of you to listen up. I don't want anybody talking over me, you hear me?" You all nodded. "Okay, good. So, I know that some of you have heard horror stories about the old cross country coach who said that if you miss a practice, then you miss a meet...unless it was for being sick." Most of you nodded.

Before your dad started coaching and the other cross country coach retired, a lot of the students hated the previous coach's coaching style. His coaching style was run more to get better at running...which sounded good in theory. But, this didn't actually work. You see, what would end up happening was that he'd make the runs longer and longer. He'd even make the athletes do a long run on Saturday and then a short run (which to him was three miles) on Sunday. If an athlete didn't send him the screenshots from apps like map my run, then they wouldn't be able to race in the next meet. This obviously was a recipe for overtraining and injuries. You heard that one girl even hurt her IT band from running so much! So, it was no surprise that most people hated the coach and so many parents complained, so he stepped down, and then your dad came in to coach.

"That's not how I coach," your dad continued. "School and your grades are really important. So is sleep. I don't want you guys not getting sleep or not getting to spend time with friends or not have other social interactions because you have to practice for two hours and then go home and do homework and get to bed late. I don't want you guys to be sleep-deprived zombies." Most of you laughed at that. "With that being said, if you're overwhelmed and feel like there's not enough time in a day, just come talk to me and we'll figure it out. Whether that's only coming to practice for an hour or taking a few days off to study for an upcoming test or taking time off for a family emergency, we'll figure out what to do." Everyone nodded. "Alright everybody, let's go run the big loop. Keep track of your split times."

***

You were walking inside with Emma to go grab your stuff from your locker after you had finished practice. Perks of having your dad be a teacher? You and your friend could leave your stuff inside instead of bringing it outside with you.

"Just meet me in my room when you're done, Y/N," your dad told you. "Have a good night, Emma."

"You too, Mr. Halstead," she replied.

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Jay when it's not school or practice hours?" Jay smiled and then walked down the hall to his classroom to retrieve the stuff he had brought with him for the day...with his shirt sticky from sweat since he had run with you guys today.

He walked out of his classroom with his backpack and gym bag, to come face to face with Miss Hailey Upton walking out of her classroom as well.

"Run with the team today, Jay?" she asked.

"Yeah, you know, first week of school, kind of hard to get my early morning runs in when there's so much to do on the classroom side," he answered.

"Understandable. I've been doing mine after I lesson plan and before dinner. Hopefully, I'll be back to nightly runs soon before it starts getting dark earlier and earlier."

"But, when it gets too dark, then you'll be running in the mornings soon...and then it'll be cold," Jay pointed out.

"There's this thing called a treadmill, Jay. I utilize that in the winter."

"That shows that you're an English teacher: you use big words."

Hailey rolled her eyes. "I see you reading books during your lunch period. I know you know big words, you just prefer not to use them."

"Yeah, because I want the kids to think I'm a cool teacher...not a snob."

"I am not a snob!" Hailey jokingly argued.

"I'm kidding, Hailey! I'm kidding! And, I know you lesson plan and grade on your lunch break, too instead of going to the teacher's lounge."

"Spying on me now, huh?"

"Our rooms are right across from each other and we have the same lunch period, what else am I supposed to do?" he laughed.

Hailey sighed dramatically. "Oh, I guess. Tell you what: come to my room during our lunch period and I can give you some good book recommendations."

"I get enough book recommendations from my daughter, thank you very much. But, I guess I can always use more."

"So, see you during tomorrow's lunch period?"

"See you then. Have a good night, Hailey."

"You, too. Tell Y/N I say hi and not to work too hard on all her homework."

Then, they walked down the hallway and Jay walked back towards where you were still chatting with Emma. All the while, he was thanking God that you weren't there during that conversation between him and Hailey because he wouldn't hear the end of it. But, he was also wondering what the hell he'd just gotten into.

***

"You will not believe what I just saw!" Emma whispered to you the next day in your AP gov class.

"What?" you whispered back.

She had forgotten her laptop in her locker and had to go get it. Which, the route to her locker from the classroom you were currently in went right past your dad and Hailey's classrooms.

"Your dad and Miss Upton are in her classroom eating lunch together."

Your eyes practically bulged out of your head. "No way!"

You received a glare from the teacher and were quiet. But, you'd be sure to ask your dad about this when you went home tonight.

***

"Uncle Will's coming over for dinner in an hour," your dad told you when you got inside your house after practice. You had decided to drive yourself to school today instead of riding with him. "How much homework do you have?"

"Uh..." you blanched and set down your backpack and unzipped it. Then, you grabbed your planner and flipped it open, laying it out on the kitchen table. "I have an AP stats worksheet that's due tomorrow, I have to read half a chapter in my AP bio textbook by Monday, I have to read a full chapter of my AP gov textbook by Tuesday, and I have an APUSH assignment due tomorrow. Oh, and I should probably read a chapter of the book I chose to read for my English class plus I have to annotate a few paragraphs of crappy 16th-century literature by tomorrow, too."

"Christ," your dad said. "So, what do you have to do tonight?"

"AP stats worksheet, APUSH assignment, and I have to annotate for English. I could always not read the chapter in the book I chose to read if I don't want to."

"Do you want me to just tell Uncle Will to come over this weekend?" he asked.

Jay know knew you absolutely loved his brother and that you were always excited to tell him about your day and how school was going. It had always been this way because, when Jay found you on his doorstep, he was 22, and had just started undergrad and was working on his teaching degree. Because of this, when Will wasn't studying in his last two years of med school and later working in a hospital as a new resident, he was your go-to babysitter. And you absolutely loved when he came over...despite not being able to remember much because you were so young. Apparently, you had been particularly fascinated by Will's red hair and would pull on it every chance you got. But, he'd let you play with it until it really started to hurt him because you were his favorite (and only) niece and he knew he'd do anything for you. This came in handy as you got older because you realized you had him wrapped around your finger and would always ask him for homework help. Or, if your dad wouldn't give you spending money, you'd go straight to your Uncle Will, and usually, he'd give you some.

"No," you answered. "A doctor needs to know stats, right?"

"I think so," your dad answered. "Why? Are you struggling already? Do you need to go into the regular stats class instead of the advanced one?"

You laughed at your dad's concern. "No, I'm fine. Just figured he'd be able to check it for me to make sure I did everything right."

"Oh, good. And, I'm pretty sure he can do that. Now, go take a shower so you can get started on your homework before he gets here and so I can start on dinner."

***

"Guess what?" you asked as all three of you twirled your spaghetti onto your forks at the dinner table an hour later.

"Chicken butt," Will said.

Jay rolled his eyes. "I swear, I wonder if Mom and Dad were lying when they said that you were older. Maybe I'm the older one and they just lied to us because you sure do act like the younger brother."

"Relax, Jay. Just because I'm more fun than you and Y/N likes me better, does not mean that I'm immature."

"Anyway," you said, wanting to tell Will what you had found out earlier today, "do you want to know what I have to say or not?"

"Go ahead," Will said.

"Okay, so today during AP gov, Emma had to back to her locker to grab her laptop. And she went right by Dad and Miss Upton's classrooms." You paused as you looked over at your dad and saw his eyes slightly widen and then go back to normal. "And they were eating lunch together in her classroom!"

"Awe," Will cooed. "My little brother's back on the market. Good for you, man." Then, he turned to you. "Upton's the short, blonde English teacher you've been trying to set him up with for years now, right?"

"He's not supposed to know about the set-up part!" you hissed.

"Oh, sorry. Jay, forget I said that."

"Y/N, I already you've been trying to set us up," your dad laughed. "It's been kind of obvious."

"Now that that's settled," Will started, "how'd it go? What did you two talk about? And are you having lunch together tomorrow?"

"You two are terrible, you know that?"

"Oh, we know," Will said. "But, you can't ground me, so I can be as terrible as I want."

Jay laughed. "She won't get grounded for that, Will. She might get grounded if she keeps procrastinating her stats homework, though."

"Need help, kiddo?" Will asked. "I have to read stats for things like new drugs and stuff, so I'm good at that. Don't know if I can help you with actually solving the problem because it's been ages since I've done that, but I can try."

"No, thanks, though. I just took a long shower so I have to get it done after dinner. I understand it all, though."

"Good, you can always come to me if you need help with it, though," Will offered. "Or, since it's Miss Upton--" He looked directly at Jay when he said Miss Upton and then turned his attention back to you. "--who's your stats teacher, you can always ask her. But, be sure to drag your dad along with you."

"Will!"

***

Two weeks later

"Might want to tell them to drink a ton of water after this, Jay, because it's so hot," Hailey Upton said as she walked up to Jay Halstead--and Coach Halstead for the next few hours--at an away cross country meet on a Wednesday afternoon in mid-September. "Or better yet, get them some Gatorade."

"Hailey?" Jay asked as he turned around, getting his stopwatch ready. "What are you doing here? And, I'd get them Gatorade if I could. I kinda forgot to pick it up last night."

"I'm here because some kids asked me to come to their meet. And, I always try to come to those things if kids ask me."

Jay cocked an eyebrow. "Would two of those kids be my daughter and her best friend?"

"Among others."

He looked down at the rolling cooler she had brought. "What's with the cooler?"

"Well, you may not have had time to pick up Gatorade, but I did. So, there's one in there for each kid plus the coach...and me of course."

"How'd you know Gatorade would help?" Jay asked. "Other than logic of course."

Hailey laughed. "I've run a few marathons in my life, Jay. I know all about proper hydration and how important it is to refuel after a hot run."

At this, Jay raised his eyebrows. He knew that she ran, but she didn't know that she ran marathons. "Oh, wow. Which ones?"

"You know, the Chicago marathon obviously. Always wanted to do like Boston or someplace, but you have to qualify for those, you can't just go and sign up like here in Chicago. Oh, and I've always wanted to do a Disney marathon. I think it'd be cool, you know? Run through Disney World, maybe hop on some rides during the race."

Jay smiled. "That actually does sound really fun."

The announcer said that it was ten minutes until it was time to race.

"I gotta get to the first mile marker," Jay said.

"Okay, where's our tent? I'll go put this cooler under it."

Jay told Hailey where the tent was and was about to leave when she stopped him.

"Where do I get the maps? I can go to the second mile marker to help out with times in case you can't get there fast enough," she suggested.

"That'd, uh, that'd actually be great, Hailey. Thank you. And, you just get the maps from the table right over there," Jay answered and pointed to a table about 200 meters away.

"Awesome, thanks. See you after the race, Coach," Hailey joked.

Jay nodded and started to jog off toward the first mile marker. But, all the while he wondered what the hell this woman was doing to him. Because he felt his cheeks heating up in a blush as he jogged off.

And, as for Hailey, well she was watching as Jay jogged away and loved the way he ran with perfect form and how his biceps flexed just enough that she could see the muscles slightly bulge.

She laughed to herself. If they ever went running together, she'd have to tell him to loosen up because you weren't supposed to run with your arms as taut as his were; he was wasting energy.

But, for now, she just made her way over to the tent and left the cooler and then went to get a map and start off toward the second mile marker to help out a fellow teacher...well, maybe he was starting to be more than just a fellow teacher. Neither of them really knew at this point. But, Hailey liked the thrill of it all. She felt like she was in high school again...a high school student, not a high school teacher.

***

You panted and winced as you crossed the finish line. Shit, your shin splints were really acting up this time, and God, it was so hot out and you felt nauseous and even had to walk during some points of the race. We'll see what your dad had to say about that.

Wait, was that Miss Upton coming up to you?

It is! She actually came!

"Y/N, are you okay? I saw you walking," she said worriedly while your dad jogged over since you were the last one on your team to finish.

"You good, kid?" your dad asked.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. My shin splints just hurt really bad and I think the heat's making me feel sick."

"Okay, well, I have to go watch the boys and make sure they're ready. Hailey, can you, uh, help Y/N? The medical tent's across from here. Maybe make sure she gets under our team tent without puking and get her something to drink?"

"I can do that, Jay, don't worry."

Emma walked up to you. "Good job!" she exclaimed.

"Girl, I didn't even run as fast as you! You flew through there. But, it's hot as hell!" you said.

"It is really hot. You gonna watch the guys' race?"

"No, Dad told me to sit under our tent in the shade. Gotta get some ice for my shins first, though."

"Shin splints acting up?"

"Yeah."

Then, you, Miss Upton, and Emma walked over to the medical tent where you got bags of ice wrapped around your shins.

***

"I'll run to Mcdonald's and get you ice, too," your dad said before you got in your separate cars back at school after the meet. "What do you want?"

"Uh, a ten-piece nugget--don't forget the honey mustard--a medium fry, and a medium lemonade," you said as your dad typed it into the notes app of his phone. "Thanks."

"I'll see you at home. Drive careful."

"See you in like half an hour."

Then you drove home and decided to start on some homework while still in your sweaty cross country uniform.

When your dad got home, you gobbled down your food because damn, you were hungry after that mentally taxing race. Then, you and your dad filled the bathtub up with ice and cold water.

Time for hell...aka an ice bath. At this point, you'd do anything to prevent your shin splints from getting bad. At least the old coach wasn't coaching because, from all the horror stories you heard, it'd be worse for your shins if he was coaching and not your dad.

After you changed into a pair of spandex shorts and a long-sleeved running shirt and a hoodie, you lowered yourself into the freezing and icy water. You set your phone timer for eight minutes and braved the cold for that long.

Then, after that, you drained the bathtub and took a very hot shower. But, as you were in there, you started feeling nauseous again. You crouched down and actually ended up throwing up a bit in the shower. It was nothing major, you just figured it was from eating too fast. But, you were still really tired.

And this is what you told your dad when you got out of the shower.

"But, I still have homework," you said defeatedly. "I kinda wanna just go to sleep now. It's already 7:00 and I have at least two to four hours of homework to do."

Jay sighed. He never wanted to play this game, but he wasn't going to let you run on not enough sleep tomorrow when you weren't even feeling your best.

"What classes?" he asked.

"Uh, I have to get APUSH done which will take me like at least two hours, and then I have English and stats homework," you answered.

Jay sighed. "I'll give Hailey a call and explain the situation and see if she'll give you an extension on the English and stats homework."

Your eyes widened. "Really?"

"Yes, now go grab some water and get started on your APUSH homework. And.. it will only be a one day extension."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you! You're the best Dad ever!"

Then, you grabbed your water and went back upstairs to your room.

But, all you could think about was that your dad and Miss Upton were talking over the phone outside of school. Maybe they were becoming more than just co-workers.

Jay dialed Hailey's phone number and grabbed a beer from the fridge.

"Jay?" she asked when she answered.

"Hi, Hailey. Yeah, it's Jay. Listen I have a huge favor to ask you," he said.

"What is it?"

"So Y/N puked a bit in the shower, probably because of the amount of sodium in those damn chicken nuggets she wanted, and then she took an ice bath and then a hot shower, so the quick and significant temperature change probably played a role. Anyway, how it happened isn't the point. It's just that she's really tired and she has AP US history homework that she has to finish. So, would it be okay if you gave her a one day extension on her English homework and her stats homework? If not, I completely understand because you can't just make exceptions because she's a teacher's kid and--"

"Jay, relax," Hailey laughed. "Yes, I'll give her the extensions. What is it that you always tell your team? Their physical and mental health comes first?"

Jay chuckled and then took a sip of his beer. "Yeah, that's about right. And, thank you. Y/N will greatly appreciate that."

"No problem. But, I also have a favor to ask you."

Jay cocked his head to the side and raised his eyebrows. "Oh yeah? What's that?"

"So, we're short on chaperones for the homecoming dance and I was wondering if maybe you could chaperone? And, I figured that since you have a kid and would probably want to be there for her pictures before the dance, you don't have to help us set up. Maybe just chaperone and then help us tear down? If not just chap--"

"Hailey, of course, I'll help out. Now, Y/N, she might not be happy that I'll be chaperoning her school dance, but I'll be there. Count me in."

***

2 weeks later, 3 days before homecoming dance

"Okay, I know I'm just your English teacher," Miss Upton started at the beginning of class that day, "but I still care about your guys' safety. So, please, please, please do not drive drunk or buzzed. Call your parents to pick you up. I can absolutely promise you that they'd be happier that you called them to pick you up than you trying to drive home and getting into a car accident."

"What if my parents will be mad at me for drinking anyway?" one kid asked.

"So, if that's the case, you can always call me and I will come pick you up from wherever you're at. I can lose a few hours of sleep to make sure that you guys are home safe." She started writing numbers on the whiteboard. "Right here is my cell phone number, if you think you'll need it, write it down or make it a contact in your phone. Again, I'd rather not come to school on Monday and learn that one of you is in the hospital because of something that could have been prevented."

You pulled out your phone, you didn't think that you'd need Miss Upton's number, but you figured you'd put it in just in case since two girls from your AP gov class asked you to be the DD for a party. You were kind of friends with them, like you studied for tests together, but that was it. But, you had debated it because it was a party after homecoming and you had never been to a party before...let alone one after a dance.

"Oh, Miss Upton," you said as you put your phone face down on your desk.

"Yes, Y/N?" she asked.

"What color dress are you wearing when you're chaperoning the dance?"

"I haven't really thought it much." She furrowed her eyebrows as she wondered why you were asking this question. "But, probably red. Why?"

"Just wondering."

And now, you just needed to make sure that your dad had a red tie and that he actually wore it when he was chaperoning the dance.

***

3 days later, homecoming

"What about this?" your dad asked as he walked out of his room in dress pants, a white shirt, a navy blue tie, and a sport coat.

You were already in your dress and had gotten your hair and nails done earlier in the day, so now you were just waiting to take some pictures with Emma and then actually go to the dance.

"Hmm, I don't know. The shirt and tie are kind of what you wear to work everyday, so I think you need something different. Maybe a brighter tie or something," you said and then walked into his room and opened his closet.

You sifted through the closet until you found what you were looking for: a black shirt and a red tie.

"I think you should wear these," you said and laid the two pieces of clothing on his bed.

"What? Why? You know I never wear red. That tie has been hung up in my closet since you were probably ten," he argued.

"That's the point, Dad! You need to get out of your comfort zone and wear something besides what you wear to school...or in your case, work. It's a dance, so you have to wear something fancy."

Jay groaned. He knew he wasn't going to be able to win this argument.

"Fine. I'll change."

"Good."

Then, you walked out of his room.

Your plan had worked.

***

"Mr. Halstead," Hailey said as she saw Jay walk onto the dance floor a few hours later when all the lights were off and the cleared-out cafeteria became full of students dancing.

"Miss Upton," he greeted. She laughed. "What?"

"It's nothing," Hailey said quickly. "It's just that, well your tie..." she trailed off while his eyes raked down her body in the slightly tight (but not too tight because they were at a school function) spaghetti strap bright red dress that she was wearing. "Let's just say I now know why Y/N asked me what color dress I was wearing."

Jay groaned and shook his head. "My daughter. Always...you know, I don't know what her game is at this point, but I should've suspected something when she told me to go change."

But damn, Jay thought, she does look good in red.

God, Hailey thought, I wish he'd wear those kind of black shirts to work more often.

***

It was now after the dance and you and your dad had arrived back at home at around the same time.

"You're a little devil, you know that?" he asked when you were both inside.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I plead the fifth," you replied.

"Very funny. You can't do that."

"Yes, I can. You should know this, Dad, you teach government."

"You can plead the fifth in court, but you cannot do it with your dad. So, I know that you asked Hailey what color dress she was wearing just so my tie could match it."

"Oooh, so we're calling her Hailey and not Miss Upton now. I'd say that's a step up. What did you two talk about at the dance? Because I know for a fact that you didn't ask her to slow dance."

"And you didn't slow dance with anyone either, so we're even, kid," Jay retorted.

You rolled your eyes. "I'm gonna go take a shower. Get this hair out."

"Okay." Your dad yawned. "I'm gonna get to bed. Now I know why you sleep until noon the day after dances: they're exhausting."

"Tell me about it. Goodnight. Send Miss Upton-- well, Hailey now-- a text to make sure she got home safe!"

You didn't even wait for your dad's witty reply before you bounded up the stairs and into your bathroom.

But, you didn't actually end up taking a shower. You ran the shower while you washed off your makeup and re-did it into something more party-appropriate and then took down your hair and put it up into a ponytail.

After half an hour, you turned off the shower and wrapped your still dry body in a towel after you had stripped off your dress. You peeked out of the bathroom to see that your dad's bedroom door was closed, which meant that he was asleep.

Then, you tiptoed into your room and changed your clothes.

You pulled out your phone to tell the girls to park a few houses down so your dad didn't hear the car pull in the driveway or see the headlights.

Your plan of going to your very first high school party was a go.

***

It had been two hours since you had snuck out and it was nearing two in the morning. And, you weren't feeling too hot. You had decided not to drink because you were the DD out of you and the two girls from class. And, you had kept the car keys away from them so that they couldn't do anything stupid...and so you could keep them safe. You hadn't drank anything, but you had eaten the fruit off of the top of the spiked punch bowl and, for whatever reason, you were starting to feel lighter and happier.

Shit.

Your dad had warned that fruit soaks up alcohol. How could you have been so stupid to forget that? He was going to kill you! There's no way you could call him to pick you up, absolutely no way!

Somehow, you found your friends, they were by the makeshift bar, no shock there because you knew the only reason they were there was to get drunk. Note to self: if people you only know because of one class ask you to come to a party for the sole purpose of being the DD, do not go.

Luckily for you, one of the girls' boyfriends played on the football team and wasn't going to risk his season just for one party. So, you told him that you needed to leave and that you were the DD and asked if he could get the two girls home safely. He agreed and you passed off the car keys to him.

Then you walked outside, the chilly mid-October night air helping to slow the nervousness coursing through your veins about facing your dad.

You pulled out your phone and hit the contact you had made in class a few days ago.

"Hello? This is Hailey," you heard Hailey's voice on the other end of the phone.

"Miss Upton, it's Y/N Halstead," you said.

"Y/N? Are you okay?" You heard shuffling on the end of the line and assumed that Miss Upton was standing up from somewhere.

"I mean, I'm kinda woozy I guess. But, I snuck out and my dad doesn't know where I am." You hung your head. You couldn't believe you had been so stupid.

"And you had a drink so you can't drive home?" she finished.

"Yeah." She didn't need to know the details. All she needed to know was that you needed help getting home.

"Okay, send me your location and I'll be there soon, okay? Is it safe for you? Do you need me to stay on the phone or call the cops?"

"No, no, I'm perfectly fine. Just need someone to drive me home."

"Okay good. Send me that location and I'll be there soon."

Then, she told you the model of her car and the color so you could spot her easily. Once you were off the phone, you sent her your location and she replied with a thumbs up, telling you that she got it.

Your phone rang. You thought it was Miss Upton, but then you looked down and saw it was your dad.

Double shit.

***

"Please don't tell my dad," you said when you pulled up to your driveway half an hour later.

"Y/N, I have--"

But, she was saved from telling you that she needed to tell your dad when the front door flung open.

Your dad must've seen the headlights.

"Go," Miss Upton said. "You're only prolonging the inevitable if you stay in here."

You sighed. "Will you walk me up?"

"Sure."

So, both you and Miss Upton exited the car.

The minute your dad saw you, he ran down the steps to you.

"Young lady!" he yelled. "Where were you? Do you know how worried I was? You could've gotten seriously hurt!" He paused. "Get over here!"

You knew to listen to him when he pulled out the dad voice.

He put two fingers underneath your chin and tipped your head up. "Breathe. Now."

It was faint, but it was there, your dad smelt stale vodka on your breath...mixed with a citrusy scent and teeth that hadn't been brushed since the previous morning.

He sighed and clenched his teeth. Then, he put his hands down and he finally spotted Hailey. "Hailey, what are you doing here?" he asked, unclenching his jaw.

"I always tell my students that they can call me if they need to get picked up from parties and can't drive. So far, Y/N's the only one who has utilized that."

"Well, thank you. I'm sorry she had to make you come out at this time of night." He turned back to you. "As for you, go inside. Not only did you drink, but you went to a party, too. We'll talk in a few minutes."

You hung your head and made your way inside and sat down on the couch in the living room.

Jay walked up to Hailey. "I'm really sorry about her. But, thank you for getting her home safe. How far did you have to drive? I can give you gas money for all of this on Monday."

"Jay, it's fine. I make this offer for homecoming and prom every year. You don't have to pay me. I just wanna make sure all the kids get home safe, that's all."

"At least let me buy you coffee or something. You brought my little girl home safe when I didn't even know where she was. I think that warrants some type of reward."

"If you want to repay me that bad," Hailey began, "I'm lesson planning and grading at Starbucks tomorrow. I guess you can buy me a coffee."

"Done. Text me the time and I'll be there."

"Will do."

"Now, excuse me, but I have to go deal with my daughter."

"Goodnight, Jay."

"Night, Hailey."

Then, she drove off and back to her house while Jay walked up his front steps and wondered what he was going to say to you.

"Look at me," your dad demanded when he made his way into the living room.

You looked up. "I'm so--"

"No," your dad said quickly, cutting you off. "You don't talk. You only listen. Do you understand me?" You nodded. "Good. Do you know how worried sick I was when I couldn't find you inside? I was beside myself, Y/N. I didn't know where you were, I didn't know if you were hurt. I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you. What you did was stupid and reckless and please do not ever, ever do that again. Never do that again. Do you hear me?"

"Yes," you answered.

"Good."

You took a deep breath before you asked your next question. "Am I in trouble?"

Your dad sighed and sat down next to you. "As much as I want to ground you, no you are not in trouble. I'm just so relieved that you're home safe. And, you made the right decision by not driving and calling someone to pick you up...even if it wasn't me."

"Do you want an explanation as to why I went?" you asked.

"No, God no. I may look calm on the outside, but on the inside, I'm still pissed."

"Can I ask how you knew I snuck out?"

"You forgot to leave your fan on and I knew it was way too quiet in your room."

The doorbell rang.

"Shoot, I forgot to tell your uncle that you're home safe. But, you better go up to bed before me and him talk and think of a punishment for you."

"So you're still mad?" you asked.

"A little mad, but mostly I'm just relieved and disappointed. I thought you knew better." You hung your head. "Now, go to bed."

"Okay." You stood up. "Goodnight, I love you." You gave him a hug.

He gave you a kiss on the forehead. "I love you, too, kid. Now, get to bed."

You went upstairs, but instead of going all the way to your room, you sat down on the landing, intent on listening to your dad's and your uncle's conversation about you.

"Hey, she's home. It's all good," Jay said as he answered the door and then motioned for his brother to come inside.

"Oh, thank God. Where was she?" Will asked as they made their way to the living room and sat down on different couches, facing each other.

"Apparently she went to a party. I know she drank because I smelled alcohol on her breath. It was just a bit, but it was there."

"If you want, we can bring her to Med and I can do a tox screen to see the level of alcohol in her system," Will suggested.

"You know, that's not a bad idea actually."

Jay quickly stood up, but Will stopped him. "I'm kidding, man! Don't do that! She was still lucid when she came home, right?"

"Yeah, she was walking and talking normally."

"Okay, then sit your ass back down and don't drag your daughter to Med. Did you ground her?"

"No, I actually didn't."

"There's a shock. You always said you'd ground your kid if they snuck out. Oh, how things changed."

"I was just so relieved," Jay said and sat back down. "When Hailey pulled in the driveway and Y/N got out of her car--"

"Wait," Will started, cutting Jay off, "Hailey picked her up? Hailey Upton?"

"Yeah," Jay answered. "Apparently she'll give out her phone number to the kids in case they need to get home safe from somewhere after prom and homecoming. And, Y/N called her and not me."

"I wouldn't call you either," Will joked. "You'd probably scream at her in front of everyone at the party."

"I would not!" Will cocked his head to the side. "Okay, maybe, but that's beside the point. All that matters is that Y/N had the wherewithal to know that she couldn't drive and she solved that problem. God, Will, the amount of adrenaline that left my body when I saw her get out of that car was astronomical."

"I bet. So, do you know where she went?"

"I just know it was some party. She got lectured when she got home, don't worry about that." Jay put his head in his hands.

"What? What's wrong, Jay?"

"Anything could've happened to her, Will, and I wouldn't have been there to protect her. I wouldn't have been able to protect my own kid."

"Jay, you can't blame yourself. Hell, most teenagers do this stuff."

"I know, I know. It's just that her grades have been slipping slightly and I'm wondering if I should have her transfer schools." Your eyes widened as you listened to that part of the conversation. "Maybe, having her dad teach at the same school isn't helping her. She went to a party, Will. Maybe it's the kids she's meeting in class, maybe being at another school would be better for her."

"Jay, you can't make a decision like that based on one stupid decision the kid did." He knew his brother was torn up about this, so he changed the subject. "What'd Hailey say?"

"I offered to pay for her gas, but she shut me down."

"Anything else?"

Jay sighed. He knew his brother wouldn't let up. "We're going out for coffee tomorrow to grade. She said I can repay her by buying her coffee there."

"Aw, you're going on a date."

"It is not a date! It's just two coworkers working in a coffee shop together...in their off time."

"Sure, keep telling yourself that."

A few minutes later, the conversation was over and Jay walked Will out, so you made your way to your room.

One thing was for sure: you were not giving your dad another opportunity to even think about you switching schools.

It was time to grind...starting tomorrow because you desperately needed to sleep right now.

***

You woke up around 11:00 the next day, which was Sunday. Then you got up and went downstairs to eat some breakfast.

"Morning," your dad said. "I made breakfast sandwiches. There's two in the fridge if you want one...or both."

"Thanks," you said. You wanted to ask if he was still mad, but you didn't really want to have an argument right when you woke up.

But, being around teenagers all day must've given your dad a sixth sense.

"Listen, kid, I'm not mad at you if that's what you're worried about. You just... you scared me last night. If something happened to you because I couldn't protect you-- because, as a parent, it is my first responsibility to keep you safe. Anyway, if I couldn't keep you safe because I didn't know where you were, I would never be able to forgive myself."

"Can I tell you why--"

"No. As a teacher at the school, the less I know the better. I really don't want to have to tell the administration and then get kids suspended from their sports for drinking. So, all I know is that you snuck out, went to a party, and drank. I don't wanna know who else was there or whose house it was at."

"But, I--"

"Y/N, end of discussion. Now, I have to go and meet Hail-- Miss Upton, for coffee since she so graciously picked you up when you made a bad decision last night. Don't do anything stupid when I'm gone or else you will be in trouble, got it?"

"Yeah, I got it. I'm just gonna study for the SATs."

"Good idea. Be back later. I love you."

"Love you, too, Dad."

***

"...And whatever she's having," Jay said and slid over so that the barista could input Hailey's order.

"Just a grande vanilla sweet cream cold brew, please," Hailey ordered.

Jay paid and then he and Hailey waited by the other side of the counter for their drinks to be ready.

Jay laughed. "You and my daughter have the same taste. You both like vanilla sweet cream cold brews."

"I'm shocked you let her get that with the amount of caffeine in cold brew," she said.

"Eh, it's just like once a week. On my rest day when I don't have to be at school before dawn to run, I'll grab her and I something from Starbucks, and then she'll just stop by my room to get it before school starts."

"That's nice of you," Hailey mused.

"Yeah, but nothing compared to Miss I have coffee in my room for the kids and you can drink as much as you want Upton."

"If you've ever heard kids talk about how little sleep they get like I do since I teach AP classes, then you'd get why I do that, Halstead. I hear kids saying that they normally only get four hours of sleep a night because they're up so late doing homework. While I don't think they should become dependent on caffeine at such a young age and need to be getting a lot more sleep than that, they need to stay awake during school. That's also probably the reason why you and I don't give a lot of homework."

"And it's ridiculous how early school starts anyway," Jay said and grabbed their drinks off the counter.

"I'll drink to that," Hailey laughed and then poked her straw in her cold brew and took a sip.

Once they took their seats, they talked a little before starting to grade and lesson plan.

"Not to pry or anything," Hailey began, "but did you ground Y/N? You don't have to answer it if you don't want to, I'm not her parent, so I know I'm not the least bit entitled to that information."

"Well, you did pick her up when she needed help, so I'd say you are entitled to that information," Jay chuckled. "But, to answer your question, no I didn't ground her just because I was so relieved that she was home. The amount of adrenaline and cortisol that dropped in my body when I saw her get out of your car was amazing, Hailey. Thank you so much." He paused and took a sip of his cappuccino. "But, we did have a talk about how she shouldn't be doing that because it's dangerous and if something happened to her, that I wouldn't be able to help her and since I'm her parent, my first job is to keep her safe. She does know that if she sneaks out or goes to a party again, I will be grounding her, though."

"Well, you had a much different and a way better reaction than my dad did when he learned that I snuck out," Hailey muttered.

But, Jay had great hearing and heard her. He put down his coffee and furrowed his eyebrows. "What happened? You don't have to tell me anything you aren't comfortable with."

"Why did you become a teacher?" Hailey asked instead.

"Why did I become a teacher?" Jay repeated and Hailey nodded. "Well, as you know I was in the Rangers in Afghanistan and, while I was there I saw so many kids walking super far to schools or us accompanying children to school. They had to go through so much just to get to school, and I wanted to make a difference in kids' lives here Stateside. So, when I came home, I enrolled in college and got my degrees in education and a minor in history." Hailey had known that he was a veteran, which explained why he took every September 11 off, but she didn't know he became a teacher because of what he saw over there. "What about you?" he asked. "You went into social work before you became a teacher, right?"

For the past almost month and a half, the two teachers had been eating lunch together in either Hailey or Jay's classroom, and during those, they obviously talked about their experience with education and what made them want to go into the teaching field. Hailey mentioned one time that she was originally a social work major but then switched it to education. But, Jay didn't know why.

"Yeah, yeah, I was originally a social work major. But, it uh, it brought up some really bad memories and I didn't think I could handle being around that all day," Hailey answered, staring directly at her coffee.

Jay cocked his head to the side. "What do you mean? Again, you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to."

"Um, it's okay. It's a part of my past. So, why I said that you were a lot nicer to Y/N when she snuck out was because, well, when my dad found out that I did, he uh, he..." she trailed off.

Jay's gaze was soft and sad as he finished for her. "Physical?" he asked, referring to the type of abuse she had endured as a child and teenager.

"Yeah," she whispered.

"Hailey, I am so, so sorry that happened to you. I'm honored that you'd tell me this."

"It's uh, it's why I give those kids my phone number in case they need help. And, at the beginning of the year, it's on my syllabus, too," she said.

"In case they need a way out, they can call you," Jay said, piecing it together.

Hailey nodded.

Jay reached across the table and gently grabbed Hailey's hand in his. "You're a good woman, Hailey Upton."

She smiled sadly and nodded, grounding herself by focusing on the feeling of Jay's hand in hers.

"Do you want to get started on grading now?" she asked after a minute had passed.

"That might be a good idea," Jay laughed. Then, he let go of Hailey's hand. But, neither of them wanted that little handhold to end.

***

One month later

God, you were in pain. You didn't wanna get out of bed; you just wanted to sleep. Hell, you needed sleep.

Over the past month, you had thrown yourself into studying. You wanted to stay at this school. You loved all your teachers and you didn't want to leave your friends, especially your best friend Emma. And, you were also scared that if you had to transfer schools, that you might not do well on your AP exams or that you'd have a bunch of other requirements that the new school had that you'd have to do the last half of your junior year and during the entirety of your senior year.

You didn't want any of that.

So, you had come up with a plan.

The day after homecoming and that next week, you studied an hour or two hours later than normal. But, you still felt that you had work to do if you didn't want your dad to transfer you at the end of the semester. So, during your study hall hour, you'd go to the teachers and ask how you could get your B+ up to an A- or your A- up to an A. You'd even review questions you got wrong on quizzes so that you could get them right when those types of questions showed up on the tests.

Yes, the teachers probably thought you were crazy because you had good grades already and were trying to be Little Miss Perfect (or they thought that you were trying to get into another scholarship bracket for college or trying to become valedictorian), but you didn't care if you looked crazy. You wanted to finish your high school career at the school you were at now.

Also during this time, you had been "going to sleep" around 10:00-11:00, which was your normal time, just so that your dad didn't get suspicious. But, what you'd actually do was sleep for an hour-ish and then get up and study more.

It started with you studying until midnight and at the latest 1:30 in the morning...and then you'd wake up five hours later at 6:30. It wasn't ideal, but you could manage. Because, since your dad went to school earlier than you, you just brought extra coffee to school and he didn't notice a thing.

But, since all the teachers wanted to get their tests in before Thanksgiving break, for the past two weeks, you had been doing your power nap thing so your dad assumed that you were asleep, and then would wake up and do homework and study until 3:00-3:30 in the morning. This meant, that during the week, you were running on just three to three and a half hours of sleep a night. And, it wasn't like you could catch up a ton on the weekend, or else your dad would get suspicious. So, you just got like seven or maybe eight hours of sleep on the weekends. So, you were constantly in a state of sleep debt and in desperate need of caffeine.

You had done the extra cup of coffee for the first two weeks, but for the past two weeks, you had been drinking two cups of coffee at your house before school and finishing the second cup at school right before classes start, but then going into Miss Upton's classroom and getting another cup of coffee. Then, you'd also get another one from her room a little after lunch. (You made sure to never go in there during her lunch period because your dad and her still ate lunch together and you didn't want him to get suspicious.) Also, sometimes you and Emma would go to Starbucks to study after school. So, lately, you had been averaging four to five cups of coffee during the week and just two on the weekends. Because, again, you couldn't have your dad getting suspicious.

And, your dad and Miss Upton ran together in the morning before school now, so you really had to be careful about what you told Miss Upton. You couldn't have her telling your dad that you were drinking a couple additional cups of coffee. You just told her that your coffee never stayed warm long enough when you brought it from home, which is why you opted for hers. And, she bought it.

To cover the bags under your eyes, you had been wearing a bit of extra foundation and cover-up. And, to make sure that your dad didn't notice at home, you'd wash off all your makeup after school, but then quickly redo the area under your eyes.

So far, he was oblivious.

But, for a week and a half, your stomach had been super achy and you couldn't stand to eat anything in the morning before you had at least one cup of coffee. So, what would typically happen was that you'd end up eating a bowl of overnight oats in your car in the school parking lot before walking inside so that your coffee had time to digest. You figured out that you were fine after that. Well, it was still achy, but not as bad as in the morning.

God, you wish you were at that point right now.

For the past five days, you've been feeling nauseous and your stomach has been achy, but in the morning, there'd be a stabbing pain before you had any coffee. You'd roll out of bed when your alarm went off and go straight downstairs to get coffee because that seemed to be the only thing--besides ibuprofen--that would alleviate the pain.

But right now, right now was the worst you had ever felt in your entire life. You felt like someone was stabbing your stomach and it wouldn't let up. You felt nauseous like you'd puke any second. And, trying to get into another position didn't help. Nothing helped.

Fuck, you had to swallow your pride and your secrecy and go tell your dad.

You needed help and you needed it now.

So, you got up. But, that just made it worse. You swallowed, trying to keep the lump in your throat and not have it go on the floor.

You whimpered and then walked a few steps and opened your bedroom door.

Then, you threw yourself on the floor and crawled across the hallway.

You held your breath as you stood up, anticipating a ton of pain--which came--when you stood up and opened the door to your dad's room.

Then, you went back on the floor and crawled in there with tears streaming down your face.

It took all your energy to whisper, "Daddy."

***

Jay blinked sleepily. He thought he heard his daughter mumble "Daddy", which she hadn't called him in years. But, then he heard it again.

He looked down and saw a figure curled up in a ball on the floor.

"Daddy, make it stop, please," you whimpered.

He quickly flicked on the light so that he could get a better look at you.

"Y/N, baby, what's wrong?" he asked quickly when he saw your tears, your face contorted in pain, and how jagged your breathing was.

"Hurts," you whimpered as more tears fell and you clutched your stomach.

He jumped out of bed and knelt down next to you. "Your stomach?" he asked urgently. You nodded. "Can you sit up?"

You nodded and leaned against his bed. But, that was a bad idea because the minute you were upright, you puked right down yourself. You groaned and pressed down more on your stomach, which just caused you to vomit more and more.

The minute you started to vomit, Jay looked at the clock. He started to soothe you by rubbing your back, but then quickly stopped and ran into the adjoining bathroom to grab the trashcan and put it underneath your mouth instead.

"There you go, there you go," he soothed as he held the trashcan with one hand and rubbed your back with the other. "Get it out. It's okay. It's okay. I'm right here. I'm right here, Y/N."

But, when you puked for almost four minutes straight and were still in pain after, Jay knew something was seriously wrong.

"Don't get up, you'll make it worse," he said. You nodded weakly. "I'm gonna go grab you some water and Gatorade and put those and a bowl in the car. Then, we're gonna go to Med to get you checked out." You nodded again. "I'll be right back. I love you."

He gave you a quick kiss on the forehead and then sprinted off into the kitchen to grab the stuff he previously mentioned. Then, he ran outside and unlocked his car, turned it on to start heating up, put that stuff in the backseat, and sprinted back inside.

"Y/N, you still awake?" he asked when he walked back into his room.

"Mhm," you hummed with your eyes still closed and your hands still clutching your stomach.

"Okay, I'm gonna throw on a hoodie and my shoes, and then I'm gonna run into your room and grab you some shoes and a hoodie because it's pretty cold out. Are you okay here?" you nodded slowly. "Okay, I'll be right back. Don't get up."

Five minutes later, you had your shoes and hoodie on. You weren't much help getting those on; your dad basically had to dress you as if you were a baby again.

"I'm gonna pick you up and bring you to the car and we're gonna go to Med to see Uncle Will."

"Uh huh," you said, letting your dad know that you had heard him. Then, you felt yourself being lifted off the ground and soon felt the chill of the late November air and then the leather seats of your dad's truck on your back and the warmth of the truck.

"There's water and Gatorade. I want you to take a few sips," your dad said. "There's a bowl, too in case you have to puke again."

You drank a few sips of Gatorade and then laid back down and closed your eyes.

As your dad backed out of the driveway, he called Will to explain the situation and tell him that the two of you were on your way to Chicago Med.

After the call, he threw his phone into the passenger seat and reached his left hand into the backseat, and grabbed one of your hands. You gripped your dad's hand weakly as he drove as fast he could to Chicago Med.

He had to make sure that his little girl was okay.

***

"We've got a treatment room right here," Maggie said when she saw Jay sprinting into the ED with you in his arms.

She quickly led him to it and he laid you down in the bed.

Will rushed in with Natalie and April a few seconds later.

"Y/N, Y/N, can you hear me?" Natalie asked.

"Hurts," you mumbled.

"Jay," Will started, "did she puke on the way here at all?"

"No, no, she didn't. She just puked for almost four minutes straight at home and it's worse when she sits or stands up. She's been clutching her stomach since she woke up."

"Gonna- gonna--" you started to heave and a pink basin was thrust under your mouth and then you emptied the few sips of Gatorade into the basin. You started to cry even harder once you finished. "Make it stop, make it stop! Please make it stop!"

Natalie turned to your dad. "Do we have permission to administer medications?"

"Please," he answered, his voice cracking. He was terrified. He was terrified something was seriously wrong. He had never seen you in so much pain. "You have permission. Just please help her."

April pushed antinausea and pain medications as well as a light sleeping medication because it was apparent that, along with puking and being in a world of pain, you were also utterly exhausted.

"Y/N," April started, "you're going to get sleepy soon. But, can you give us your pain level on a scale of one to ten?"

"Ten. My stomach hurts at a ten," you answered while tears still ran down your face.

"Did you eat anything you weren't used to? Drink anything?"

"No, no," you panted. "Just- just lots of coffee. Not a lot of sleep. Studying."

Will and Natalie shared a look. They knew what this could be. And, at least they got it out of you now, because it was clear that the meds were starting to work and you were fading fast.

"Hun," Natalie began, "we're gonna leave April in here with you in case you get sick again. Is it okay if me, your Uncle Will, and your dad have a chat outside real quick?"

"Want my dad. Please."

Natalie smiled sadly. "Okay, he'll stay. We can talk to him later."

Your dad reached for your hand and held it and rubbed his thumb over the top while you drifted into a medication-induced sleep.

Five minutes later, you were out.

Jay looked at his brother. "What's going on? What's wrong with my kid?"

"From what she told us, it sounds like the acid in the coffee she's been drinking has been irritating her stomach lining. Has she been drinking a lot of coffee lately?" Will asked.

"Not that I've noticed. But, sometimes there's a little less in the coffee pot than I think there should be. But, even if she is drinking two cups, that can't cause this, can it?" Jay asked worriedly.

"No, two cups shouldn't. But, if she isn't sleeping a lot, sometimes lack of sleep can make people feel pretty crappy. So, if she's drinking more than her normal amount of caffeine and not sleeping, then that could be what's causing it."

"But, she goes to bed at her normal time," Jay argued.

"That doesn't mean that she's sleeping. She could be lying awake in bed. Has she seemed more tired to you?"

"No, not that I've noticed. Uh, what do I do, Will? Can't you run some tests?"

"I mean, I can run one to see if she's sleep-deprived, it's a plasma cortisol test. If her levels are elevated, that means she's not getting enough sleep. But, it wouldn't give us the reason why her stomach's hurting so bad and why she's nauseous and vomiting," Will answered.

"Then don't run the test," Jay said. "If it's not going to figure out the problem, then I don't want to put her through that. But, what do we do?"

"If it's what I think, an irritated stomach lining, then we keep her for observation for a few days, ween her off of caffeine to a healthy amount, give her antinausea and pain medications, and just wait for her to go home until she feels better," Will answered.

"Okay. I guess we wait. You mind grabbing me some coffee?"

Will laughed because they had just been talking about how you had been possibly drinking too much coffee and now Jay was asking for it. "Yeah, I can do that. My shift ends in an hour, so I'll be down here to wait with you then."

Jay smiled. "Thanks, man."

***

It was 7:30 in the morning the next day, which was Thanksgiving Day, when Jay's phone rang, waking him up. He answered it without checking the caller ID because he didn't want to disturb your peaceful sleep.

"Hello?" he asked groggily.

"Jay? Where are you and Y/N?" he heard Hailey's voice through the phone.

Shit, the Turkey Trot, he thought.

He and you always ran the Turkey Trot every Thanksgiving, sometimes dragging Will along if he didn't have to work. Then, you'd have your Thanksgiving feast later in the day. Granted, your dad had to keep pace with you for the entire time, so it really wasn't a race. But, it was a nice bonding experience, so the two (sometimes three of you) kept it up.

Jay had mentioned it to Hailey one morning when they were running the indoor track before school started, and she said she'd sometimes run it, too. So, Jay had invited her to run it with him and you, and she agreed.

You were convinced that Miss Upton and your dad were secretly dating.

But, Miss Upton had been waiting for you and your dad at the designated meeting spot for half an hour now. And, Jay Halstead was not one to be late.

"Listen, me and Y/N aren't going to be able to make it. She had some stomach issues last night and now she's in the hospital and the doctors are trying to figure out what's wrong," Jay said.

"Oh my God," she said as she started to walk away from their planned meeting spot and towards the parking garage where she parked her car. "What hospital are you at?"

"Chicago Med," Jay answered. "Why?"

"I'm gonna find someplace that's open and grab breakfast and then I'll be there."

"Hailey, you don't have to."

"Jay, I want to do this. I'll be there within the next hour."

Then, without waiting for him to protest once more, she ended the call.

***

When you woke up a few hours later, you rubbed your eyes, despite the IV in your hand, and rolled over.

"Well good morning, or almost afternoon," your uncle Will said and stood up. "How's the pain on a scale of one to ten?"

"Uh, maybe a six, seven?" you said.

But then, you looked around the room.

Why was Miss Upton here?

"I'll go get a nurse and let you three talk," Will said and then left the treatment room.

You looked at your dad and raised your eyebrows. At the same time, the achiness in your stomach started up again and you clutched it.

"Gonna be sick?" your dad asked.

"I don't know," you answered.

He handed you the pink basin anyway (a clean one because last night's was gross and went off to get cleaned) and you set it on your lap.

"Feel like you can eat anything?" your dad asked. "Hailey brought food...and coffee, but we'll have to check with the nurses about how much coffee you can drink."

"You brought it?" you asked as you looked at Miss Upton.

She smiled. "I did. I called your dad to see why you two weren't at the Turkey Trot yet, and he said you two were here, so I figured I'd find somewhere that's open and get you breakfast." She rummaged around in the bag and pulled out a container. "He mentioned you were having stomach issues so I opted for something light, so the fruit and nut oatmeal from Mcdonald's. I also grabbed a packet of syrup in case you wanted it sweeter."

She passed the food to you along with a spoon and a napkin. "Thank you," you said as you took them from her. "Sorry I messed up your run."

Hailey laughed. "It's okay. My run's the least of my problems. Me and your dad just want you to get better."

You tried to hide your smile. She said she and your dad. She cared about you more than she did other students...and you were just waiting for them to slip up and call each other babe at this point.

"Hey, I'm back," Will announced as he walked into the room. This time, he had Dr. Choi and Monique in tow. "Natalie and April have Thanksgiving off, so you have Dr. Choi as your doctor and Monique as your nurse."

You nodded.

"Hi, Y/N, I'm Dr. Choi, as your brother just mentioned. Monique here is just going to check your vitals." You nodded again. "I understand you've been having some stomach issues. Can you tell me when they started? Any changes to your diet or routine that I should know about?"

Here goes nothing.

You looked at your dad as tears formed in your eyes. "I'm sorry," you said. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

Your dad moved his chair closer to you and gently grabbed your hand. "Tell me what, baby?"

"I- I went to that party because--"

"Y/N, how many times do I have to tell you that I don't want to know why because I'm a teacher? Me and Miss Upton are both teachers."

"But I didn't go to drink at all! I hadn't even planned on drinking! I didn't even drink a drink!" you yelled, causing Monique to take a step back. You took a deep breath and turned to her. "Sorry, sorry. I'll be calm so you can do your job." After a few breaths, Monique went back to checking your vitals and you continued your story. "These two girls I know from my AP gov class asked me to come to the party to be their DD. So, I went. But, when I was there, I ate the fruit from the punch bowl and I forgot that the fruit absorbs the alcohol. I'm sorry."

"And when you realized what happened, you called Miss Upton?" your dad asked.

"Yeah," you confirmed. "And, I even made sure to give the car keys to one of the girl's boyfriends who wasn't drinking because he plays sports so that they'd get home safely."

Jay smiled slightly; he had taught you well.

"Did you keep drinking consistently after?" Dr. Choi asked. He couldn't see one drink causing all these problems.

"No, God no!" you said. But, then you clutched your stomach and took in a deep breath.

"Pain?" Dr. Choi asked.

"Yeah, it's not as bad as last night, though."

He looked to your dad. "If she wants more pain meds, will you allow it?"

"Yes," your dad answered.

"Do you want more pain meds?" Dr. Choi asked.

"Please," you answered.

So, Monique started to get the pain medication ready to go into your IV and then pushed the meds.

A few minutes later, once the medication had started to work, you continued your story.

"I heard you and Uncle Will talking," you said.

"When?" your dad asked. "Me and Uncle Will talk a lot."

"The night I snuck out. You and Uncle Will were talking and you said that you might make me transfer schools if my grades don't get better. I don't want to transfer schools, Dad."

Your dad sighed. "Kid, I was mad, but in reality, I wouldn't do that. That was just me being angry and trying to find a solution when I wasn't in the right headspace. Were you so nervous that your stomach hurt all the time?" he asked.

"No," you answered. "but, I started staying up later and doing homework."

"Really? You always seemed asleep to me."

"I'd sleep for an hour and then wake up and study more." Your dad sighed. "I'm sorry. And then I was just sleeping for like three hours, so I'd drink four or five cups of coffee a day and my stomach hurt so bad in the morning if I didn't drink any coffee, so I'd eat breakfast in my car before school."

"For how long?" your dad asked. "For how long have you been bottling this up? For how long have you been waiting to eat breakfast?"

"The stomach aches started a week and a half ago. I'm sorry I didn't tell you." You started to cry harder.

"Hey, hey it's okay. We know what happened now, so hopefully, Dr. Choi and everyone else here can fix it." He looked up at Dr. Choi who had been intently listening as well. "Right, Doc?"

Dr. Choi smiled. "That's right, Y/N. And, what it seems to me is that you've just been drinking too much coffee, and coupled with the lack of sleep, have had abdominal cramping and nausea due to all the caffeine irritating your stomach lining. So, what we'll do is ween your caffeine intake back down to one to two cups of coffee per day, not go cold turkey because you'll probably feel pretty crappy if we did that, and then continue giving you pain meds and antinausea meds. We'll probably keep you here a few days upstairs in a recovery room just for observation to make sure nothing else is going on."

"So, I have to spend my whole Thanksgiving break in the hospital?" you asked.

"I'm afraid so," he answered.

"Well, this sucks." You looked at the table next to Miss Upton. "Is that coffee for me?"

"It is. I don't know if you can have it, though," she answered.

"She can have it," Dr. Choi answered. "Just, no more after this one seeing as that's a large."

You nodded.

"I got you a vanilla iced coffee. Since apparently, we have the same taste because your dad said you also like vanilla sweet cream cold brews as much as me," Miss Upton said and then handed you the coffee.

"Seeing as everything looks good, me and Monique will check on you later." He turned to the three adults in the room. "If she pukes up that food or her stomach pain gets worse, come get us."

"Will do, Doc," your dad answered.

"Jay," Hailey started, "can I talk to you for a minute? Outside?"

Jay furrowed his eyebrows slightly but nodded. "Of course. Be right back, Y/N. I love you."

"I love you, too, Dad," you said.

Then, your dad and Miss Upton left the room.

Outside the treatment room, Hailey took a deep breath, grounding herself as she prepared to talk to Jay.

"I'm sorry," she blurted out.

"For what?" Jay asked, utterly confused.

"I knew she was drinking extra coffee but didn't tell you! Well, she told me when she brought it from home, that it would get cold too fast, so she always came to my room and had two cups during the day. If I knew she was drinking some at home, too, I would've never let her have any. I'm so, so sorry, Jay!"

"Hailey," Jay began and placed his hands on her shoulders, "it's not your fault. Hell, I didn't even notice it and she's my daughter."

"I know, but I just feel slightly responsible for her being in that hospital bed--"

"It's not your fault, Hailey. I promise. I don't blame you one bit and I know Y/N doesn't either."

Meanwhile, back in the treatment room, you really needed to use the bathroom.

"Uncle Will?" you asked, causing him to look up from his phone where he was trying to figure out what restaurants were open for dinner on Thanksgiving. He really didn't want him and his family eating hospital cafeteria food for Thanksgiving dinner.

"Hmm?" he hummed and gave you his full attention.

"I really need to go to the bathroom," you told him.

He pocketed his phone and stood up and moved over to you. "Okay, I'm gonna help you up and with one arm, I'll hold on to you and with the other, I'll hold onto the IV pole for you. Is that okay?" You nodded. "Do you think you'll need help in the bathroom? I can grab a nurse if you need me to," he offered.

"No, just help me to the bathroom, please. I should be good when I get in there."

"Okay." Then, he helped you up and the two of you made your way over to the bathroom where he stood and waited while you went inside.

Back with Hailey and Jay, Jay reassured Hailey once again that none of this was on her.

"If anything," Jay began, "I should be thanking you. You got Y/N home safe after that party."

"Jay, we've been over this. I would've done it for any one of my students," she said.

"But, would you take their dad up on their offer of buying you coffee if it wasn't my kid you picked up?" Jay asked and tilted his head to the side.

"Probably not," Hailey said, a blush rising to her cheeks.

"Can I ask why?" She stayed silent. "Listen, Hailey, it's been a long time since I've seen you as just a fellow teacher," Jay admitted.

She looked up at him. "Since we're all sharing secrets today, it's been a long time since I've seen you as a fellow teacher, too, Jay."

Jay smiled and moved a piece of her hair behind her ear. He leaned in. "Can I?" he asked.

He didn't get a response because she quickly pressed her lips against his. It was the kiss she had been waiting for since she asked him to eat lunch with her that first week of school.

You and your uncle Will had chosen that exact time to make your way back to your treatment room. You two had seen everything: your dad putting a strand of Hailey's hair behind her ear and them leaning in and kissing.

You were glad that one of your hands was free because you whacked Will across the chest in excitement.

It was finally happening!

Jay and Hailey pulled away and looked at each other and smiled.

"I uh, I hope that was okay," Hailey said quietly.

"Oh, it was more than okay. I'd happily do that again, but we should probably get back into Y/N's room. She's probably wondering what's taking us so long," Jay said.

Hailey laughed. "Probably."

The two turned around and saw you and Will standing thirty feet away. Jay's eyes widened. "Uh..." he trailed off as Hailey blushed hard.

"Finally!" you exclaimed.

"Yeah, I agree with Y/N on this one," Will laughed. "But, who would've thought? A government teacher and an English teacher?" He started to help you walk back to your treatment room but turned his head back to Jay and Hailey. "Oh, don't stop on our account."

"Will!"

A/N: hank you guys so, so, so much for reading! Again, please remember to like/reblog and comment because I love reading all your comments and seeing that you liked/reblogged because that means you enjoyed reading the imagine! Again, I am donating all my proceeds on buy me a coffee until the end of AU-gust to Save The Children to help the children in Afghanistan. Buy me a coffee here.

As always, if you want to be added to my taglist, just tell me and I’d be happy to add you!

Taglist: @theambracer88@virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @anotherfan07 @thexplosivegirl @dreamingwithlens @xoxmariaxox @onechicago18 @iamasimpingh0e @i-like-sparkly-things @herecomesthewriterwitch @liampayne88

[lillian-nator]

In one of the Ybln drabbles you mentioned that Wilbur and Schlatt are friends (aqantences?), what's their friendship like? Actually, a more broad question -- I know that Tommy is the focus, and you've talked briefly about what his social circle is like at school, but what're the other sb's friend groups like in this au? Are any of them Popular Kids™? (Also I just found your writing and it's REALLY GOOD dude! Love this au it's super cool! I'll def be reading ur other stuff when I'm not as sleep deprived lol 💛💛💛💛💖💖💖💖)

Thank You!!

SO - I mentioned this in the tag of my last post, but both Techno and Wilbur are seniors. 

Their social circles: 

Phil had just recently graduated college, (the au takes place in late winter through spring, you know when the senior parties really amp up) he is 21 years old. None of the brothers know where he works, but they know it has something to do with computers (Techno isn’t sure, but he thinks Phil builds computers). So while Phil has friends, and his own circle, we will most likely never see them because the brothers never see them. He wasn’t super popular in highschool - kind of a nerd - but in Highschool, and College he had his own close group of friends. 

Phil could live on his own, but he is waiting for Tommy to graduate highschool, he knows that it’s gonna be really tough on Tommy to watch both of his other brothers (especially Wilbur, the two have been attached to the hip since Tommy was born) go away to college next year - and he doesn't want the blonde to be alone. 

Wilbur stayed back in Kindergarten, for reasons I will never explain, making him 19. Techno did not stay back, but he also didn’t move up any grades because his mom said that it wouldn’t be good for his social skills. Techno is 18. 

For reference: Schlatt, is 18. Niki is 17 (I’m graduating highschool at 17, so it’s possible). Fundy is 18. Eret is 19 - he doesn’t go to school anymore, he is a teacher assistant, and the President of the GSA - but he still sits with his friends at lunch. 

Wilbur is popular, sure. But in a very different way than Tommy. 

Wilbur is popular in the way that everybody knows him, and a lot of people want to be friends with him, but he keeps himself to his circle. Most of the girls want to date him, sure, but nobody can tell if him and Schlatt are an actual thing or not. 

He is a music kid. He is an indie kid - lets not lie. Everyone wants to know what is up with him, but he couldn’t care less. 

Tommy is popular in like the “jock that for some reason is actually runny funny and fun to hang with” way. Like he is actually really, really popular in the I’m friends with the whole school kind of way. 

Like this kid just goes down the hallway and high fives people type of shit. 

I mean, Tommy is a star athlete. He plays varsity soccer, varsity baseball, and he runs with the varsity indoor track team in between his seasons. He has to let all of his energy out somehow. (Funfact: Punz and SapNap continuously beg Tommy to join the football team because they could use a good runner like him, but Tommy knows that he will be snapped and half, so he has to decline). Even though Tommy is friends with the entire student body, he prefers to spend time with his group [Mainly Purpled and Tubbo]. 

For reference (Tommy’s Friends): Punz is 19 - he definitely stayed back in like 7th grade. SapNap is 17. Dream is 18. George is 18.   Callahan is 17. Ponk is 18. They are all seniors. Quackity is 18. Karl is 17. They are Juniors. Purpled, Tubbo, and Tommy are 15. They are freshman. 

Techno is not popular. That’s it. 

Everyone knows him, because of his two brothers, but also because he is top of the class.

While Wilbur gets mostly B’s taking honors classes, and AP English’s; and Tommy gets most C’s in some regular, some honors classes; Techno gets all A’s in all AP Classes. 

Techno has a few friends, such as TapL (18), Skeppy (17), and Calvin (18). He’s always been acquaintances with Dream, who is salutatorian - both of them vying for the top spot. But, both of them know that Dream is too focused on football for him to really put in the time that Techno does to get Valedictorian.

Techno is also on the Varsity Baseball team with Tommy. The baseball season is the only season that Techno and Tommy get along. Tommy’s a pitcher because he is ambidextrous (true fact, Tommy actually is left handed for minecraft too), and Techno is the school’s star batter, so the two make a perfect duo. 

As for your first question, Wilbur and Schlatt’s relationship? 

Nobody knows why they became friends - nobody. 

They just did, when they were very young. 

Sometimes it’s apparent to see that they really like eachother, some days they get along extremely well, and joke together, and do science labs together. Other days though, they absolutely hate eachothers guts. Schlatt has more than once thrown a Textbook at Wilbur. And Wilbur, more than once, has split coffee onto Schlatt’s assignments “accidentally”. 

Either way, they are eachothers’ ride or die. If you mess with one of them the other will not hesitate to fight you the fuck off. 

And, to add to a point I made earlier - no matter what kind of day it is, they flirt too much to be normal. They are those friends, that no one can tell if they are actually dating or not. Schlatt has - on multiple occasions - tried to make out with Wilbur. 

Their relationship is completely and utterly platonic, but do they sure confuse the fuck out of the student body. 

[brainfuzz]

Don't buy into the hype that you *have* to go to college right after high school. Yes, its easier if you do because if you wait, you have things like bills that you now need to pay, but sometimes waiting is better.

Case 1; me - A hundred years ago, when I graduated HS, I had a really shitty guidance counselor. The dude did my entire graduation class, and he legit sucked ass. I, like most of my classmates, was on the "college track" in high school, which meant that we didn't take any practical classes, like accounting or shop, we took languages, and extra science/math/English classes. Senior year when we're talking to the guidance counselor about applying to college, 90% of us were told 'college might not be for you, you should try community college and see if you can do it,' which is a nice sentiment, but if you can't you don't have any marketable skills now. Needless to say, I went to CC, ran out of money, and got a job. Jobs mean college is now part time, and since it was a 9 to 5 job, I just stopped going when it got to hard. I didn't go back until I was 30, and since I now had a career, spouse, kids and a mortgage, it took me a long time to finish. I graduated at 43, with a BS that started in the CC and then transferred to a 4 year school. Transferring saved me a ton of money. A few years passed, and I went back to school for my masters, which I got at 53.

tl;dr, its never to late to go to college

Case 2; oldest kid - Oldest kid was smart, and genuinely loved learning and school. In his junior year, he had some significant mental health fuckery going on, but managed to get through it and graduate with pretty good grades. We decided that it would be good for his mental fuckery to go away to college, and he got accepted to a good one, about 4 hours away. He did not do well because he wasn't ready for college. He dropped out in his freshman year, and none of the classes he took were considered completed, so there was nothing to transfer. He decided that college was bullshit, and went to work in food service. He loved working, but started with some health issues that took forever to figure out and consequently lost that job. Figured out the health problem (apparently he can no longer tolerate caffeine), got a better job still in food service, worked there for a while before quitting because food service sucks. While all this was going on, his friends were graduating college, and starting their careers, and he'd grown up a great deal and decided that college might be less bullshit than he thought. So he moved in with his grandparents and started going to CC and is now pulling straight A's and loving it. He's planning on transferring to a 4 year school, and becoming a teacher. ALSO, he just found out today that the CC has an "honors" track, and that a relatively local Ivy League will accept students from the CC with a high GPA in that honor program. They have an acceptance rate of 6% for students out of high school, but according to the honors advisor, love taking people from the honors CC program. They're now his "reach" school, and the local, highly ranked, teaching college is his "sure thing" when he applies to transfer next spring, after he graduates.

tl;dr its ok to delay college a few years until you're ready, and in some cases can be beneficial since you have a better idea of what you want to do, and how to get there. But still start at the community college because its cheaper.

Case 3; youngest kid - We learned from the oldest kid, and did not send the youngest to college right away. We were dealing with the fallout from being in HS during Covid, as well as relocating to a new house in a different state. Once we'd settled in, I did make her get a job, and it had to be a 9 to 5, or at least something with regular hours. She ended up working at a dairy packaging/making milk and butter. She fucking hated it, but did it for almost a year before she couldn't take it anymore. Faced with going to college, or getting another shit job, she opted for college. She is now a sophomore at a four year college, and doing much better than she expected based on how she felt in HS.

tl;dr sometimes taking a gap year or two will mean the difference between succeeding and failing, so don't be afraid to do it.

every year we have to say it

[the-demelza-robins]

american high school!jily (pt II)

hi! here’s a short chapter before The Big One (which is set on Halloween night and will hopefully come out on Halloween, if I have the energy). thanks so much for all the positive feedback, it makes me really happy! also you can read it on AO3 if you want  

read part one here

James and Lily are in the same math class; this fact is not new. What is new, however, is that today, he drops his bag in Sev’s seat, the one right next to her. 

“Hey,” he says, then nods once, as if this is normal. It is not.

“Hi,” she responds, because she doesn’t know what else to do. What she does know is that suddenly she’s aware of him, aware of the solidness of his form beside her. He’s tall, taller than Roger. She never really noticed that before.

He fiddles with his pencil. She blinks once, twice. She’s probably so attuned to his movements because he took Sev’s seat. Yes, that must be it. James sitting next to her means that Severus “I’m a fucking white supremacist” Snape can’t. Math has always been the worst, too — Lily cut Sev out of her life junior year, after he published that article, but he refuses to listen to her when she tells him to stay away, and sits next to her whenever he can. She has no friends in math class, no one to shoot him dirty looks and drown out his murmured apologies and arguments.

But James is here, now. Even if he’s not her friend. Even if he doesn’t know the significance of what he just did.

He’s still here. And that’s something.

***

Lily, please save me, the note reads, written in James’s messy scrawl. It took her a long time, as well as a lot of not-so-subtle hints from James, to realize that he’d written it in the first place. It takes her a little longer to decipher his handwriting, which is fine, because she’s ahead on the problems they’re supposed to be working through, caught in that in-between of being too good for regular math and not good enough for honors. As she looks at the curled-up bottom portion of his notebook, she senses Sev glaring daggers at her from across the room. Perfect.

From what? she writes back, letters neat and compact. James reads it almost immediately and takes a long time to respond.

The evil eye that Snivellus is giving me right now.

Ha, ha.

A smile spills out of the corner of his mouth as he writes back. Are you two involved in some sort of torrid love affair I didn’t know about? Am I making him #jelly?

That hashtag made me throw up in my mouth a little. She pauses, pencil flicking against the desk. She knows he’s watching, knows Sev is watching, and so she picks up the paper again and adds, and no, I am not involved with Sev. Would rather make out with Tony the Squid.

His smile widens, now, and she catches it in her peripheral vision. Not our school mascot. That’s too far, Evans.

It occurs to Lily that she’s acting exactly like elementary school James would. She’s laughing about Sev. Her past self would be disappointed.

But her past self didn’t know what Sev would become. She angles her body more towards James, away from her former best friend’s skin-crawling stare.

***

James sits with her again the next math class, and the one after that, too. She knows things about him, now: knows that he doodles soccer balls in the margins of his notebook; knows that he can’t stop moving, and sometimes when he’s bored of tapping his pencil he’ll tap his foot against her chair leg, unconsciously; knows that he has a little scar on his neck; knows that he can make her laugh with one passed note; knows that he still hates Sev as much as he did in eighth grade.

Lily’s the first to step into the math classroom today; or, at least, she thinks she is, until she spots Sev hovering near her seat, muttering to himself under his breath. Lily steels herself and walks by him, pointedly ignoring him as she slips into her chair.

“Lil —”

“Don’t call me that,” she says immediately, and glances towards the door. She’s forgotten what it feels like to be alone with Sev: like she’s been stripped bare, vulnerable, underneath all the layers of hatred and hurt.

Sev huffs, haughtily, in a way that’s so quintessentially him that it causes Lily physical pain. “You’re blowing it all out of proportion. I was looking at the situation from a purely economic perspective—”

“You were being fucking racist, Sev, and you know it,” she snaps, trying and failing to calm down. So easy, she is. The same conversation, every time: the same circles ran, with no ground lost or gained.

Sev opens his mouth to argue back, but before he can, a new voice cuts in.

“Should’ve known I’d find you here,” says James, speaking in a way she’s forgotten that he’s capable of: sharp, sharp as cut glass.

“This has nothing to do with you, Potter,” Sev says stiffly, gaze settling on James, who in turn looks at Lily, brow furrowed.

“You’re in my seat, Snivellus.”

Sev’s face turned red. “It was my seat first.”

“Then I guess it depends on what Lily wants.”

They both turn towards her, and this is where I get to choose, Lily realizes, with a startling burst of clarity. She knows she doesn’t want Sev, doesn’t want him near her, doesn’t want him begging for forgiveness with crocodile tears; she sucks in a breath, says, “That’s James’s seat.”

James smiles, just for a second, then slides into the seat next to her and starts to take out his math notebook. Sev stands, watching them, hands curled into fists; Lily can’t meet his eyes. Yes, he’s virtually unrecognizable from his childhood self, but rejection — rejection for James? James, who had made his early years a living hell?

She stares at the desk until she hears Sev’s retreating footsteps, knowing that to glance up and see the look of anguish on his face would make her feel even worse.

“Glad we got rid of Snivellus, huh, Evans?” James whispers, and he’s too close, sitting next to her with his pencil already tapping against the desk, a hand wafting through his hair. Lily feels like a child again, except this time she’s chosen the wrong side. She’s one of them now. Sev will never speak to her again.

Isn’t that what she wants? He’s a terrible person; she doesn’t long for his friendship. Still, a part of her — a very small part of her — wants him to want her. Another wave of revulsion consumes her; for a moment, she just stares at James, wondering how she’s gotten here. “I’m not like you, James.”

He blinks. “Yeah?”

She could yell at him. She could ask him why, all those years ago, he felt it necessary to call Sev Snivellus, to joke about his greasy hair and unwashed clothes, to ensure that he’d have no friends save Lily.

But in this moment, Lily’s more angry at herself. So instead, she turns towards the front of the classroom, hoping to find some sort of respite in calculus.

Sev doesn’t approach her again, after that.

***

Texts with Roger Davies, Tuesday, October 27th, 9:33pm

Roger: did you get rodriguez’s approval for the theme?

Lily: yeah, we’re all set!

Roger: okay great

Roger: i’m so glad that we’re finally done with that process

Roger: james was being so annoying about choosing it

Lily: lol i thought he was funny. and it didn't derail us that much

(Lily doesn’t know where that instinct comes from, the one that tells her to defend James’s honor. Maybe she knows, in her heart of hearts, that he’d do the same for her, without question, because that’s just the kind of person he is. Maybe she imagines him in math class, tapping his pencil against his desk, focused but also not, a reassuring presence. Maybe the image in her head is shifting from the boy he once was to the boy that now sits next to her every day: the one who lets her fight her own battles, the one who doesn’t push her, the one who didn’t ask about Sev after their last encounter. She can’t be sure of it yet, but maybe she’s actually starting to enjoy his company — that is, when she forgets about the past eight years of her life.)

(Or, maybe, she thinks, as she lies down on her bed, watching the bubbles on her phone pop up and disappear over and over again, she knows that disagreeing with Roger will extend their conversation.)

Roger: james is always like that tho

Lily: really? he’s been pretty good lately i thought

Roger: always wants things his way

Roger: idk i shouldn’t be talking about this

Lily: lol

Roger: it’s just that ur nice to talk to

(Roger’s never said that to her before. She wonders if it’s because she really is nice to talk to, or if it’s because she’s just there.)

Lily: lol thanks

Roger: and i feel like i can trust you

(He’s never said that to her before, either. They’ve never really spoken about non-yearbook related things. She doesn’t understand why he’s suddenly acting like they’re friends. She can’t say she doesn’t enjoy the familiarity — this is Roger, after all, and any relationship gain with him is a good one — but she feels blindsided. It was October until people burst into her room telling her it’s Christmas, and now she’s just confused.)

Lily: yeah you can trust me

Roger: cool i’m glad

seen by Lily at 9:46pm (there’s nothing more to say).

***

Texts with Roger Davies, Tuesday, October 27th, 9:50pm

Roger: can i ask you a question

Lily: fire away

Roger: are you coming to the halloween thing this weekend

Lily: yeah was planning on it

Lily: why

Roger: cool maybe i’ll see you there

(Oh.)

(It’s Christmas morning in October. It’s Christmas morning in October.)

(Lily doesn't know much about high school relationships, hookups or otherwise, but she does know this: if a boy asks a girl if she's coming to a party, he did it for a reason. And that reason is usually not so that they can discuss the yearbook.)

Lily: yeah see you there

(There's nothing more to do but wait.)

part three

[ms-demeanor]

After reading your "ultra-long postivity post", now I have kind of a weird feeling because i relate a lot to pretty much everything you said, but i ended up approaching the "not everyone can x" from the opposite side, being the "gifted kid" teachers used to hold everyone to unrealistic standards (that i knew most couldnt achieve in the given timeframes), and now i get frustrated when i dont develop skills immediately, because i have done it before and feel like i should be able to and aaaaaaaaaa

Funny story: when I was a kid my parents had both my sister and I tested for learning and developmental disabilities. This testing included IQ testing.

It identified that we were both “gifted” kids* and that I’m dyslexic.

It totally missed my ADHD, though!

The problem with that is that my parents. Hm.

Okay my parents both grew up in very poor families. VERY poor. And they both wanted to go to college and knew the only way that they could was through scholarships. So they became debaters. They met at a tournament in high school.

Debaters are weird. You need an efficient working memory and strong recall and the ability to think quickly on your feet. Being witty and kind of an asshole are also good traits for debaters. Basically you’ve either gotta be really fuck-off smart to be a competitive debater or you’ve gotta at least *seem* really fuck-off smart.

And my parents were champion debaters at a national level. The Whittier College debate trophy has my mom’s name written directly under Richard goddamn Nixon. My dad was on the USC debate team and competed against Harvard and won. Not only that but he ended up coaching debate for USC and Cal Tech.

So as kids who grew up in extremely poor families and were able to go to college and get middle-class jobs and buy a house because of intellectual ability my parents placed A LOT of importance on intellectual ability.

So that IQ score became a large part of my life.

First we attacked the dyslexia. The approach was basically teaching me a bunch of sight words because sounding out phonics doesn’t work when the letters get screwed up. And because I was *gifted* we did a lot of really BIG sight words.

It took about six months to get me up to speed from “memorizing the pages of a story to match the pictures because I couldn’t read along in class” to “the first book I read on my own was The Hobbit.” I guess that counted as “cured” because that was the last time I got any kind of educational assistance.

At that time I was at a gifted school, a really tiny private school that was also an after-school daycare where we did full-day classes and then did gymnastics and swim from 3-6pm. I also was there over the summer because my parents worked.

So going from “tiny private school where the teacher has you stand up in class to read your failing grade in front of everyone so that she could shame you into performing better” to “fine public school in a suburb wealthy enough to have arts programs” was a major, major change. They did an aptitude test because I was transferring in from a different district and there was much discussion about whether or not to move me directly from the second to the sixth grade.

The district refused, thank fuck.

The public elementary school didn’t *have* a gifted program so it took very little time for me to become the Certified Weird Kid. My third grade teacher had me read aloud to our class for twenty minutes a day. I taught the class the multiplication table.

When it got to be time to go to the junior high school my mom went to a meeting for the school’s gifted kids program. APPARENTLY one of the kid’s dad’s basically said “I don’t understand why you’re wasting school funds on field trips for the stupid kids, the school should spend more of its resources on kids who have a chance of actually meaning something to the world” and my mom decided that while being gifted was important it was less important than making sure I wasn’t exposed to assholes of that caliber on a regular basis.

(thanks mom, I actually do really appreciate that reprieve)

Several teachers pushed me into advanced classes - my math teacher insisted that I take the advanced algebra classes in the seventh and eighth grade.

The GATE kids *WERE* assholes and were extra bonus special assholes to me because math was the only advanced class that I was in. (At my junior high school you had to pick your elective based on what level of classes you were in - to take the GATE classes you HAD to take a music elective; if you took art, drama, shop, or home ec you couldn’t take the smart kid classes. The algebra class was a new, separate addition to the program so *some* of the kids in the “electives for dropouts” program could take algebra. Schools are really fucked up, guys, in case you didn’t know schools are really fucked up and that was BEFORE No Child Left Behind).

I got a C in that algebra class and sat in my room for literally an hour screaming at myself for being such a selfish, distracted idiot that I let myself read my books instead of studying harder for the class. (clearly very healthy, normal twelve-year-old behavior)

When it was time to go to high school my teachers made a united plea to the district to transfer me into honors/IB/AP classes.

The kids in the honors/IB/AP classes continued to be kind of awful to me. I got extremely depressed and basically started doing the lazy-but-brilliant thing of completely ignoring homework or in-class work but performing spectacularly well on tests or essays in the classes that I wasn’t catastrophically failing

I was the only person at the school who got a perfect score on the vocab part of my SAT. I was the only honors kid who hadn’t been in SAT prep classes. There was only one other kid who graduated with the same number of units as I had, we’d outstripped the valedictorian and salutatorian but three classes each. I only applied to one college - I got accepted for painting but my interviewer urged me to move to the writing program and I got accepted for that too.

My financial aid didn’t come through and my dad wasn’t willing to cosign for loans on “an art program at a trade school.”

I got accepted to Pratt Institute on their Writing for Publication track which included an internship with the New York Times for third-year students in the program.

At that point I had a Columbia Scholastic Press award for my work on my high school yearbook.

Let me tell you, the community college that I went to and spent five years variously failing and succeeding at had a fucking *killer* newspaper and magazine when I was there. The local community newspaper that hired me when I was 21 was also much better designed and edited than it had any right to be for the three years I worked there (getting paid a whole eight dollars an hour and sometimes working 20 hours straight to get it in to the printer on time).

When I transferred to the state school I got perfect grades and worked full time and won every contest offered by the school’s English Honors society (which I couldn’t join because I was a transfer student and hadn’t done honors classes my freshman and sophomore years). I started a literary magazine with some friends when I graduated; we published four full issues online before it fell apart.

You know what’s also funny?

Even the food-service job I had to pay my way though the community college I felt terrible about attending was a skills test. I was a barista, so of course for a while I was a competitive barista.

I disappointed my parents a lot. I heard a lot of “we know you’re better than this.” I got told I was too smart to be screwing up this bad. I mentioned it a couple weeks ago but my results from that IQ test got compared to my sister’s and that was the justification for holding me to a higher standard. “You’re measurably brilliant, why aren’t you acting like it?”

Here lies the corpse of a gifted kid. Look on my works ye might and despair.

I am the perfect picture of a twice exceptional gifted kid and the reason I wrote all of this out is to tell you one thing:

“Gifted Kid” is a label that someone applied to you, it has nothing to do with who and what you ARE.

It’s very, very unfair that the adults in your life used you that way. I have an exceptionally terrible memory of being singled out as the only one who passed the first test in my IB World History class; “Why is Alli the only one of all of you who is writing at grade level? You’re supposed to be the smartest kids in the school, why did you all fail?”

That’s awful for the kids around you, that’s awful for you. It doesn’t do anybody any favors if people around you are being informed that you’re setting the curve they’ll be judged against. And it really, really doesn’t do YOU any favors because it doesn’t take long *at all* for your brain to learn that that’s all you’re good for. If you aren’t the best at a thing then what’s the point, you HAVE to be best because they already SAID you were best and if you aren’t then all these other people hate you for setting a standard that even you can’t keep up with.

You end up competing with past versions of yourself and focusing on those things that make the grownups in your life praise you because the grownups in your life has praised you in such a way that it’s turned all the other kids against you.

You know who bullied the fuck out of me? The kids I taught the times tables to, the kids I read to for half an hour a day.

Those kids were MEAN to me but the teacher who told me to read Boxcar Kids to the class after lunch everyday was NICE and she told me not to worry, they were just jealous and I should be proud of my gifts.

“Anon did this in three minutes. What’s taking the rest of you so long?” - what a terrible weight to put on a child. You’re right. Not everyone can do everything.

Fucking hell.

Adults what the everloving shit is wrong with us? Please don’t treat kids like that.

Okay.

Okay.

But here’s the other thing:

If there’s any time in your life that it’s easy to acquire skills with no apparent effort it’s when you’re a child surrounded by a support system that is engaged in making sure that you can acquire those skills.

It took three adults, two dictionaries, and several hours a day to teach me enough sight-words to throw me into “look at baby genius*” territory but from my perspective as a little kid I was just reading cool stories.

I spent four hours a day in the yearbook room and ditched and failed other classes so that I could work on the yearbook. I collected hundreds of magazines to get an eye for layout. But from my perspective as a teenager it was a fun activity that I did with the closest thing I had to friends.

I’m sure that there are some skills that you had a natural aptitude for, some things that came naturally. But I’m also sure that you didn’t learn those skills with no effort, it’s just that now as an adult with a life and other shit going on it takes more effort to learn to do things.

In all likelihood you weren’t a savant who did everything perfectly the first time you tried. It just seems that way because even really smart kids don’t know when they’re bad at things and are mostly being compared against other kids (with the few rare exceptions of music prodigies or math prodigies or those kids who end up in science grad programs at 12 and boy howdy do I think there’s a whole other can of worms when it comes to the way child prodigies* interact with the world).

You wanna know what probably saved my life in the last few years?

That “anti-capitalist love notes” tumblr post.

You are worth more than your productivity.

You are worth more than your productivity.

You are worth more than your productivity.

I was actually kind of offended the first time I saw that post on my dash. “No I’m not,” I thought. “You’re only worth what you can do, everyone knows that. People care about what you do for them.”

And why the hell would I think anything else? That’s what I’d learned for pretty much my whole life.

It took me a really long time to understand that I was wrong. I matter outside of what I can do for people or how well I perform. I matter more than being able to perfectly recite poetry from memory or do calculations on command or sit down at a piano and play a piece I’ve never played by sight-reading it.

And you matter outside of that too. You’re more than your performance, you’re better than being gifted. There are people who love you for the way you make them laugh and how you listen to their stories and for the simple joy of your presence.

It’s nice to be clever, it’s handy in a lot of situations even if it does come with a lot of baggage for some people.

But god damn, it’s important to be kind.

* Personally I have issues with the way that society constructs the concepts of giftedness, genius, and prodigies. There are a lot of “gifted” kids who were the kids who scored in the top 5% of their class in school but there are also gifted kids who were doing high-level math or reading novels as toddlers; there are prodigies who showed an aptitude for music young and who were then schooled in that instrument to the exclusion of all other activities (and I bet there are a fair number of kids who might be considered prodigies if they were trained to play flute for nine hours a day and didn’t have friends but thankfully we don’t *do* that to very many people - side note, ask me my opinion about olympic athletes some time). Words like “genius” and “gifted” are very nearly meaningless and almost *never* accurately reflect skills proficiency or long-term success or are reflected in income or respect. People think that geniuses are hypercompetent robots with their shit together but literally every adult I know with a genius-level IQ is some variety or other of total fucking tire fire.

[hazel2468]

The Great Gatsby.

Look, it's not a bad book. I think if I ever were to revisit it, I might even enjoy it.

But I never will.

Because I was assigned that book FOUR YEARS IN A ROW.

In 8th grade, I was in advanced English. We were assigned the Great Gatsby. I read it, I liked it. Good book. Wrote my little paper about it.

Freshman year (9th grade). I was placed in regular English. And we were assigned The Great Gatsby. And I figured alright sure I already read it, this is fine.

Sophomore year (10th grade). I was moved to Honors English. They also changed the curriculum (AGAIN, they kept changing it all 4 of my years in high school)... And so we were assigned. The Great. McFucking. Gatsby. At this point, I was thoroughly done. I couldn't even enjoy all of the (in hindsight very good) discussions about symbolism and the green light and all of that. Because holy fuck.

Junior year (11th grade) was the worst year of my life. I was so depressed and fucked up in the head I barely remember any of it. But I do remember ANOTHER curriculum shift, and being assigned THE GREAT MOTHER FUCKING GATSBY. I just didn't read it. I barely did anything that year, but English was the one class I liked.

Anyway. My grudge is not that the book is bad, or boring (Catcher in the Rye gets that pleasure of being the worst, most un-interesting book I had to read in school, of Mice and Men was probably a favorite of mine).

Its that if I EVER see that fucking book cover again I am going to shit a house.

what books were you assigned to read in a class that you still hold a violent and bitter grudge against

for me it’s into the wild and the scarlet letter

[sandalaris]

The Leverage!Community AU that I will probably never write and nobody asked for. 

Let’s go steal an AU.

Under the cut because it is long

Jeff Winger

Jeff was a damn good lawyer, with just the right amount of flexible morality that let him bend the law to his whim while not being the kind of a amoral asshole that people avoided (*cough*Alan*cough*). He took white collar civil cases, the kind where the defendant was greedy or lazy or just plain stupid, and the fatalities financial in nature, all designed to keeping Jeff in the expensive life he’d become accustomed to. He was on the fast track to make junior partner when out of nowhere evidence surfaced claiming Jeff falsified his credentials. He soon finds himself disbarred and blacklisted, without even getting a chance to plead his case. Determined to get back to his old life as quickly as possible, Jeff sets off to find the culprit and hires a crew to help him. It was only supposed to be one job, no encores. No repeats... well, maybe just one more.

Britta Perry

The only thing Britta loves more than her cats is a noble cause, but there’s only so much a person can do with a picket sign and a catchy chant. She refused to give up though, going out and fighting the good fight, until she discovered she could do more behind a computer screen than she ever could on the streets. A self-proclaimed hactivist, Britta fights for the underdog even as it lands her on government wanted lists. And if she’s entirely honest, she’s more than a little proud of make such lists. She has a hard drive with the copies of each of her arrest warrants, kept like badges of honor even as she goes through and deletes them from local systems. She doesn’t have time to spend the night in jail when there’s some many other, digital places she’s needed.

She only agreed to take the Winger job because she needed the money after a hack went wrong the Croatian government seized her bank accounts and then went the extra dick mile and sent her address to the feds. She just needs to lay low, do the job, and get paid (she’ll be fine, but her cat needs his eye drops). She has no plans to form a crew, not after last time. But someone’s gotta tell this group of miss-matched criminals what’s really going on in the world.

And then later, when the number of people they keep helping continues to grow, she realizes that maybe not all causes have to be large in scale to be worth fighting for.

Abed Nadir

Abed has always related to the world best through TV, defining the people around him by roles and tropes until they fell into place. For years he dreamed of being a writer and director, but making films aren’t cheap, and Abed learns very quickly that if he wants to follow his dream he needs more than the ideas in head. People aren’t going to just see his vision when he places it in front of them, they need to be convinced, persuaded, need to like the guy selling his stories, and people don’t always like Abed. He can pretend though, pluck a character from thin air, custom made to manipulate people into giving him what he wants, opening doors and wallets. It’s a great way to make a living, addictive and exhausting at the same time, and more than enough to keep him making small indie films in his spare time. He dons new names, new people, at every turn, drawing others to him like a moth to flame. Even if he doesn’t always understand the why of people, he at least gets the how, and that’s enough to get by.

He played witness to one of Jeff’s cases, needed the inside information for a script that never got off the ground. He slipped though, started talking about film and shows and forgot to be George Carmicheal from Long Island and became Abed Nadir, failed movie producer and college drop out. And the thing is, Jeff still liked him, maybe even liked him better as Abed than he did as George. Maybe that’s why he showed up at Jeff’s doorstep, uninvited and unannounced, after hearing about his disbarment. Maybe that’s why he volunteered his real name and didn’t pretend to smile or nod or do any of the things he knows he needs to do to make people like him. Even with the others showed up and he placed them in their likely roles, he didn’t don a mask. For the first time in a long time, he was just Abed, and that wasn’t just enough for them, it was preferred.

Annie Edison

Annie had a plan. Perfect grades leading to the perfect school leading to the perfect life. Her extracurricular were carefully selected, the exact balance of brainy and physical to appeal to the Ivy League schools the Edisions’ had their eye on, all mulled over and weighed to give her the best advantage. Annie was a junior in high school when she OD’d on the little “helper” pills her mom and dad had talked her doctor into prescribing her. Her parents refused to send her to rehab, citing the shame it would bring to their family and dismissing her claims of addiction as attention seeking behavior. She begged and pleaded and bargained and finally they caved on lessening her ridged schedule, making time for her to “destress” in between padding her college applications. Meditation didn’t work, but flipping grown men over her shoulder did and her self-defense class was augmented with MMA and kickboxing. And when the acceptance letters started pouring in Annie let out a sigh of relief, thinking it was over now that she reached the goal. She was wrong.

The pressure didn’t stop so Annie upped her training, which lead to her showing her dormmate a few moves, which lead to helping out a classmate with a stalker problem, which turned into a couple of private security gigs, which got her noticed by a man looking for someone to help retrieve some property that may not have been his, and he passed on her name to someone who offered a lot of money for... well, she’s not really at liberty to say. Annie likes being the best, likes the praise and the testing of her carefully honed skills. But the drive to be the very best at what she does led her to taking more and more questionable jobs and fewer and fewer classes, making up excuses about why she doesn’t come home anymore until she stops all together, and before she realizes it she’s got a very specific skill set and rather impressive, yet bloody, resume that only certain kinds of people would be interested in seeing and all those carefully laid plans from all those years ago have long been flushed down the drain.

Troy Barnes

Troy likes to drive, likes the escape of it and the way no one’s around to tell him what he’s doing wrong with his life or “real men" don’t do those things. Likes the thrill of going fast when night has fallen and the streets are bare of regular people, pitting himself against another person who’s like him, trying to outrun that gnawing pit in their stomach that’s constantly telling them they can’t cut it.

Troy’s not made for crime, not the real kind. Doesn’t think he’d make a very good criminal with his hidden soft heart and lack of long-term planning skills. But when Nana Barnes gets sick, driving is what puts food on table and covers the hospital bills. Its what gets him contacted by a down-on-his-luck lawyer looking a guy to provide a quick get away.

He’s not needed at every job in the beginning, but they make roles for him anyways and he finds his own ways to help. He’s always been good with his hands, mending the broken equipment around him and making improvements to his car beyond what the original designs intended. Passing the time creating small, playful gadgets that the others oo and ahh over. He likes to be useful, sewing FBI jackets and making the crew a meal after a long job, creating for Jeff his fake miracle and putting together an EMP spur of the moment when they realize they need one.

“You’re a regular renaissance man,” they tell him, and they don’t comment when he cries at meeting the clients or mentions how he always wanted to learn to dance, and Troy that it must be a good thing because he’s never felt so comfortable staying put before.

Shirley Bennet

Shirley is retired. She found the Lord and put her sinful past firmly behind her. She doesn’t even miss it. Really. Not one bit. No one would suspect that the sweet little housewife with a penchant for baking can crack a safe in under a minute or that she’s intimately familiar with the security systems employed by the most secure museums. People don’t know how her fingers itch in crowds for the fat wallets and shiny valuables that keep catching her eye, or see the frown of disapproval that crosses her face every time some half-brained car chase ends with the perp getting caught. She’s a good wife and mother, and doesn’t entertain such ideas anymore.

She met Jeffery once before, when he was trying to build a plausible alternate for the prosecution’s case and accidentally stumbled across what Shirley had thought was one of her better heists. She never did figure out how he put the pieces together so quickly and he never put her name on an official documents (she checked. Courthouses really should invest in better security), but after that they kept on eye on each other. And when he comes to her with a job offer, well, she tried to tell him she was out of the game, but that boy can just be so darn convincing when he wants to be and its not like its hurting anybody.

Pierce Hawthorne

Pierce has a lot of money, a lot of ex-wives, and next to zero friends. He’s fairly certain he doesn’t need them, after all he’s made it this long without any, no matter how many times Winger argues on the stand that his loneliness and maladjusted psyche due to a “traumatic childhood” are what causes him to make such poor decisions that lead to such expensive lawsuits. He still manages to get him a Not Guilty verdict or argues with him into settling out of court, and no matter how many times Winger swears this is the last time he’s going to defend him, he still answers when Pierce calls. So when Jeff says he needs money to pay a group of criminals to break into his old work building and find out who got him disbarred, Pierce offers without even stopping to think about it. Doesn’t even call it loan and just hands over the cash like he’s passing the salt.

Breaking the law isn’t cheap, apparently. Although the payouts make up for it most of the time. But the set up, the equipment and the materials, all those upfront costs that someone needs to front, are enough to make most people squirm and Pierce covers them without comment. They always pay him back anyways, and after a couple months, they’ve made enough that they don’t need him anymore. They still invite him though, to the meetings and the plans, making room for him in their little group and giving him a place at the table.

They aren’t his friends, can’t be because Pierce doesn’t need any, but he think he might want some anyways.

[moonlightreal]

Strange Fate first two chapters

I figured out where I read the first chapter of Strange Fate!  It’s in the Night World guide, it has the first two chapters…. At least the first two chapters as of 2009 before Brionwy’s story split off into its own book.

And reading just these chapters I can see why.  Sarah's chapter feels kind of clunky and forced, maybe because the author has to cram in all the introductory info, while Brionwy’s chapter is just… really good.  *sigh*

Anyway, I decided the internet needs these chapters so I typed ‘em in.  (so all typos are mine) Enjoy! Inspire your fanfics!  Just don’t use them as the first chapters of your fanfic, that ain’t cool.  And buy the Night World guide too. It has plenty of other clues about the plot of Strange Fate if you read carefully.

Chapter 1 Sarah

Sarah wasn’t trying to hear the whispering that was going on in front of her.  She couldn’t help it.  Soft as it was, it seemed to override the teacher’s voice.

“You’re really getting me worried about homecoming.  Are you going or not?”  Rachel Carr was saying softly to Pamela Adams.

Sarah absentmindedly decorated math sums in her notebook with a design of flowers, which somehow seemed to make the voices even clearer.

“It all depends.”  Pamela answered, sighing.  ‘the idea was to get Mal Harman to ask me, but so far...”  she shrugged gracefully.  “You know.”

“Same with me.”  Rachel whispered back heavily, without turning to look at Sarah.

Sarah stopped drawing and stared at her notebook.  Maybe they didn’t know she was there.  Since her mother’s funeral a year ago, people often didn’t know she was around until she spoke.  And the two most popular girls at E.B. Turner High School didn’t usually sit near Sarah or pay her much attention.

Rachel continued, “Don’t worry, I’m not competing with you.  I mean, I have my eye on Kierlan Drache.  But the question is, can either of them be pried apart from that mousy little Sarah, even for one dance?”

The girls must not have noticed she was there.  Pam and Rachel were always full of sweetness and light to Sarah in front of other people.  But the, that was because Kierlan and mal were usually the other people around Sarah.  Sarah bit her lip.  She would never last more than a few seconds in a debate with these girls, but…

No.  She bit her lip harder, holding back words, imagining herself in a cool green forest instead of this slightly stuffy first-period math class.  Her teacher’s droning voice became the creaking of the redwoods.

It was October 12 and no one had really asked her to homecoming, and she certainly hadn’t asked anyone.  But then, no one ever asked her to dances.  What happened just happened by itself.

“So have you spoken to Mal about it yet?”  Rachel asked Pamela.  Somehow, despite how Sarah tried, the whispering, although soft, would not become the sound of leaves rustling in the trees.

“I’ll make my move when I’m ready,”  Pamela said coolly, uncrossing and recrossing long, elegant legs in her very short white knit skirt.

“But it is Mal you’re after—and not Kierlan, right?”  Rachel demanded.  Neither of the boys in question were in the honors math class.  Mal was in regular math and Kierlan—well, he was supposed to be at the junior college for this class.

Pamela spoke indignantly, “Are you joking?  As if I would even think about Kierlan after what he did to me last year at the Spring Fling!”  Pamela forgot to whisper as she tossed her glossy blond hair.

This got the two girls a long, stern look from Mr. Osford.  Another student was called up to the blackboard, and Sarah hastily bent over and scribbled the exponential equation from the board into her notebook.  Then she frowned, solved the problem, and decorated the number with twining vines.  Much more elegant.

Math and art were the only two subjects that made sense to Sarah.  She could never be a mathematician like Kierlan, but she hoped she could be an artist.  In the big art room she had a painting hanging that had recently won a county prize, and she would be packing it up with Ms. Jessup to go to the state competition later that day.

But that doesn’t give me long, gorgeous legs like a model’s, she thought.

“No, no, no,”  Mr. Osford was saying to the student at the blackboard.  “Like this, not like that.”

Rachel and Pamela barely paused.

“Well, wear a long dress this time, then.  He can’t flip that.”  Rachel leaned over to pat Pamela’s arm with a sympathetic air that held just a hint of smirk.

Pamela simply moved her arm and looked back haughtily.  Pamela had everything a girl needed to look haughty, sarah thought with sad admiration.  She was tall, blue-eyed, a natural blonde, with a perfect, curvaceous figure and those long, long legs.

And Rachel was as perfect in her own way, with thick dark hair, wide dark eyes, and legs that were almost as elegant.

Sarah, on the other hand, was rather slight and fragile looking, with very little on top and nothing at all anywhere else.  Coltish legs, no hips, flyaway brown hair… and a face that somehow couldn’t do “haughty” at all, not that she tried.

“Anyway, good luck if you have to ask Mal yourself.”  Rachel whispered the words as if Pamela had proposed taking a swim in a river full of alligators.  Sarah found herself nodding agreement, then remembered she ought to want to skewer the girls and barbecue them for being so insensitive.  Mal wouldn’t barbecue Pam and Rachel though, if Sarah told him about this conversation.  Mal was the master of the cold stare.

“And that’s supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.”  Rachel said hastily, in a placating voice.  ‘It’s just—there have been other girls who’ve tried, you know.  They usually come back frozen solid. But at least if—when he says yes to you, you know you’ll look great together.”

and so they would, Sarah thought.  No arguing with that.  The gentle rustling of sarah’s green woods had retreated and Mr. Osford’s voice grew louder, trying to make the power of exponents sound interesting with his inflection.  Sarah very carefully drew a design of branching leaves around another sum.

“I just honestly can’t see what they see in that Sarah girl.”  Pamela said in exasperation.

Neither can I, Sarah thought, suddenly breathless.  She had to really blink to suppress a sniff. She started worrying about what would happen when the class was over—would Pam or Rachel glance behind them when they walked out? If they did, it was going to be agonizingly embarrassing for all of them.  And what about later?  She had art class with Pamela, for pity’s sake.  How was Sarah supposed to act then?

Sarah moved ahead of Mr. Osford’s lesson, copying questions from the board and solving them.  She scribbled a gigantic venus flytrap looming over the last equation.

Despite the hurt Sarah felt from Pam and Rachel’s remarks, Sarah knew what was really going to happen.  Kierlan, with his dark red hair, tawny eyes and cheerful face, would definitely be the one to bring up the dance.  He’d be sure to act as if they were all going to the dance together, if only as ajoke.  Everything was a joke to Kierlan.  He’d ask when Sarah wanted to head off to “do-si-do” or “get down and boogie.”

And then Mal would ask, coolly, if Kierlan had actually asked Sarah to the dance or if he was just making assumptions again.  Sarah could almost hear Mal saying it.  Mal was the opposite of Kierlan.  Sleek, dark-haired, always perfectly dressed, with eyes that were like windows into the early morning sky, he’d definitely ask if Kierlan was making assumptions.

And then Kierlan would say that he and Sarah were too close for him to have to ask about every little dance.  “So if you’re planning to ask her,”  Kierlan would say to mal, one arm casually thrown around Sarah’s shoulders, “go right ahead.”

And then both of them would look at Sarah for justification.

“You’re not really going with this jerk?”  Mal would say.  “You know I’ve warned you about him.  He’s an animal.”

And Kierlan would say, “But Sarah loves animals, don’t you, Sarah?”  Except, of course, that Kierlan almost never called her Sarah.  He used the nickname he’d given her when she was five.

This nickname would both muddle Sarah's feelings and melt her heart.  Then sarah would look up helplessly at Mal, who would say that Kierlan was using undue influence, and that sarah’s decision should be entirely free of prejudice.

And somewhere in all of this, the fact that Mal never—ever—actually asked Sarah to go with him, either, would get lost.  And it would end the way it always did: with the three of them going together, the guys alternating turns buying Sarah flowers.  And the three of them would spend most of the dance talking—and trying to keep Kierlan from slipping “a little something’ into the punch bowl.

“So what color are you going to wear?  Mal’s not going to have much time if you wait until the last minute,”  Rachel whispered, making it sound as if the deal was done, the arrangements already made.

Sarah thought of the lovely little homecoming dress that she had bought two weeks ago.  It was aquamarine, to match her eyes, and she’d bought it knowing—assuming that she knew—exactly how the scene with Mal and Kierlan would play out.

Except… maybe things wouldn’t happen the same way this year.  Mal and Kierlan were seniors now; Sarah was only a junior.  Maybe being a senior was more serious and things were going to be different this year.

The thought made her heart pound, and Sarah knew she couldn’t stand much more of this.  Class was almost over but—what if Pamela turned around?  What if Pam realized she had overheard their entire conversation?  What would Sarah say?

“I’ve got something in basic black; that ought to be easy to match,”  Pamela said, “What about you?”

“I bought something creamy—sort of ivory,” Rachel said with a pat to her long dark hair.  “also easy to match.”

Somehow that did it.  That short exchange about dresses, already bought and waiting—just like hers. Sarah suddenly heard someone speaking aloud, in a conversational voice, then with a slight shock realized it was her own.

“Mal always wears black—but he doesn’t like it on girls,” Sarah said, watching Pam and Rachel start to turn and look at Sarah.  “At least not since—,”  Sarah began, but discovered she couldn’t finish her sentence.  At least not since my mother’s funeral, Sarah thought.

Now that Sarah was this far in, she turned to Rachel and said, just as loudly, “and if you’re going to wear ivory around Kierlan, you’re going to come home covered in punch.”

There was a moment of perfect silence, and then Mr. osford rapped sharply on his desk.  “Pamela Adams, Rachel Carr!” he called.  ‘Sarah...um, Strange!  Are you three looking for a detention?”

Sarah, embarassed as she was to find everyone in class looking in her direction, felt slightly vindicated.

Then, to her horror, she smelled roses.  A shaft of pain shot through her head and she shut her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose.  Oh no!  Not now!  She couldn’t have a migraine here.

Automatically, Sarah's other hand flew up.  She lifted her head to see Mr. Osford shaking his head as if to say “Give me a break.”  he looked to Rachel and Pamela, as if expecting their hands to go up too, but they sat stiffly, flushed, staring straight ahead like extras in a movie scene.

Sarah knew from experience that she was fighting the clock now.  If she couldn’t stop the migraine in the next minute or so, she wouldn’t be able to hold it off at all. Without waiting for permission and with her vision already edged with sparkling silver, she stood up—and knocked her math book off her desk.

Sarah could hear scattered laughter, not really unkind laughter, but she didn’t have the mental balance at the moment to judge fairly.  All she knew was that she had to get out of this class.

Abandoning her books, trailing her backpack, Sarah hurried to the end of the row of desks.  The pain in her head was coming more and more frequently, and she heard Mr. Osford say, “Sarah, I’m sure you can wait for the restroom for another six minutes.”

Sarah was no longer paying attention. She lunged toward her goal: the door.  Someone she couldn’t see caught at her backpack as if to stop her.  Sarah stumbled and there was more laughter.  Mr. Osford, who had never had Sarah in a class before this year, asked, suddenly concerned, “Is something wrong?”

Someone else, far away, said, “She gets migraines.”

Sarah found the doorknob by touch; the glittering silver aura now covered half her visual field.  She opened the door and slipped through, just in time to hear Mr. Osford saying faintly, “Quiet down, everyone.  A migraine is just a headache.”

Not my migraines, Sarah thought grimly as she headed more by instinct than by sight through the empty halls toward the girls’ restroom.

Not even Sarah's doctors could explain what happened when Sarah's migraines hit full force.  They weren’t classic migraines, but they weren’t classic seizures, either.  They didn’t respond to medication.

All Sarah knew was that at the peak of the pain, she lost consciousness and had—nightmares.  She had these same nightmares when she was asleep.  But Sarah never told anyone about what happened in the nightmares, not even her kindly, sympathetic doctors.

Sarah was afraid that her kindly, sympathetic doctors would have her locked up.

Here was the girls’ restroom. Thank God, she’d made it.  She needed hot water.  She stood at a sink and began running the water as hot as she could get it, ignoring the two senior girls who were putting on their makeup and talking.

Sarah leaned forward, breathing slowly and feeling the steam on her face.  When the water was hot enough, she soaked a handful of paper towels and held them on the back of her neck.  Sarah lost track of time.  But she realized, gradually, gratefully, that the smell of roses had gone away, and that the shimmering silver covering her vision had retreated.  She had caught the migraine early enough to stop it.

But she’d also left the hot water running in the sink.  The entire mirror was misted over with steam.

Sarah realizes that the older girls were looking at her pointedly.  Hastily, she turned the hot water off and used her wad of paper towels to make a vignette in the misted mirror.  She tried to shut out the glares of the senior girls as they scrubbed at their glass too.

Doing her best to appear casual, Sarah looked in the mirror.  Her aquamarine eyes reflected back, their depths somehow giving the impression of being full of unshed tears.

The rest of her features were also all present and correct.  Flushed skin that was usually pink, as she blushed easily.  A small nose and a small, determined chin with a dimple.  A nice mouth, if she thought so herself, and eyelashes that didn’t require mascara.  Hair; light brown and always falling in different configurations over her shoulders.

It was… a gentle face, Sarah thought as she turned away from the mirror.  Sarah’s mother had had a small, heart-shaped, gentle face, and Sarah took after her in that.

Sarah sighed, and turned to throw the paper towels into the garbage.

And was engulfed by the smell of roses.

Chapter 2 Wings

It happened all in an instant: the shaft of pain coursing through her head, holding her frozen again.

The smell of roses filled her nostrils, almost sickly sweet, much stronger than it had been in the classroom.

Sarah clutched feebly at a sink.  Oh God, she thought wildly, this isn’t fair!  But her vision had already narrowed to a small circle, and she couldn’t ignore the scent of warm, full-blown rose blossoms.  They were so real she could almost see them.  Sarah was going to have a migraine—right now—and somewhere down there was a very hard tiled floor.

She turned as another lance of agone shot through her head.  Sarah was trying to get into a stall where there was privacy, when suddenly both of the senior girls screamed. The door had just burst open and a boy walked inside.

“This is the girls’ restroom!” one of the seniors cried in outrage.

The boy answered indifferently, “Well, that’s what I’m here to find: a girl.”

The two seniors were still shrieking at him in fury and shock as Sarah tried to take a step forward.  All she could see, in the center of her glimmering tunnel, was a tall boy with dark hair and chiseled features in a rather pale face.  She saw eyes so light gray that they almost weren’t a color, and two arms held out to catch her.

“Mal,”  Sarah heard herself whisper, and then, without question or hestiation, she let herself fall forward into the darkness.

And as she went, sarah realized that today’s migraine-nightmare was going to be a bad one.  It started with wings.

***

Wings.

Crispy was squatting on her haunches at the far edge of the boneyard.  The white shape she had been staring at for the past few minutes was not some sheet of amazingly clean paper dumped from the Grand House.  It was an animal.  An animal with wings—a bird.  She was proud of knowing that fact, and even more proud of knowing what kind of bird it was.

A pidge-un, Old Useless had told them when she described it.  Not all things with wings were Masters, the old woman had explained to them.  Not all things with wings meant death.

In the old days, Useless said, there had been lots of birds in the sky, the blue sky.  That was before the Masters had purged the animals, of course, and darkened the sky, making it forever gray.

Despite her bragging rights, Crispy was deeply grateful that in the plump, gently curving shape of the pigeon, she could discern no sign of wings at all.  Even knowing it was not a Master, she didn’t think she could watch wings unfold without shrieking.  And, considering the predators that lived in the boneyard, one shriek would mean her death.

Okay, so you’ve seen a bird.  Now get back to work, said Crispy’s mind, or, more accurately, said one half of Crispy’s mind.  It was the half she called Smart Crispy, who knew what was really important and what wasn’t.  Important was surviving, gathering food, and most especially not getting caught and put back into the fawn pens where the little kids were kept to be fattened.

Important was not a bird.

Still, she sat.  it’s alive.  It moves by itself, the other half of Crispy’s mind marveled.  This part was the part she labeled Dumb Crispy.  Dumb Crispy was slow, but stubborn.  What does it hurt if I sit here and watch the bird for a minute? It asked.

Crispy tried to remember other things Old Useless had told her about birds.  Useless could tell you lots of things if he was in the mood; you just didn’t want to get too close to her mumbling, toothless mouth.  Useless’d lived her life in one of the crazies’ pens, but somehow she had avoided the selections, and somehow she had escaped from the pen during the chaos of the Grand Hunt, the Hunt when Crispy had been burned.  Old Useless’d cared for Crispy then.  Now Crispy cared for her.  A debt was a debt: that was the iron rule.

Besides, half the time Old Useless said they were family.  Sometimes she said she was Crispy’s grandmother, sometimes her great-gran, and sometimes even her mother, a clear impossibility.  It was probably all nonsense, but the thought that crispy might really have a relative, even a crazy, white-haired useless old woman, made her feel warm.

And that’s the kind of thought that gets you killed, Smart Crispy snapped.  Can you imagine what Roach would say to that?

Dumb Crispy wasn’t completely dumb. She was sampling the twilight constantly, instinctively.  She was sniffing the air, opening her mouth so she could smell better, listening, glancing all around her, checking with all her senses for danger.

She hadn’t reached the ripe old age of eight and a half by not paying attention.

Of course, she’d very nearly not reached that age.  Crispy grinned, stretching some of the red scars on her cheek, and glanced down at her hands.  One was full of graybread, the coarse, springy fungus that grew here and provided most of the food Crispy scavenged every day..

her other hand was her baby hand.  It was curled and stunted by the fire that had given her these scars, and it looked completely helpless.  Old useless was the one who had exercised Crispy’s hand using herbs and poultices to take away the pain.  Old Useless also claimed to be a witch and said she’d used the last of her witchlight to help Crispy, but Useless said so many different things that it was impossible to know what to believe.

However it was, by luck or chance or Old Useless’s magic, Crispy had one good arm and one that looked withered but could do everything the other could.  Like the two halves of her mind, the two halves of Crispy’s body were divided, one normal, and one puckered with angry burn scars from her dusty towhead to her small, rag-bound feet.

Right now Smart Crispy was coming up with an idea that appaled Dumb Crispy.  So you want to watch the pigeon? It said.  Okay, I’ll watch too.  And I’ll tell you something: there’s meat on that bird’s breast!  Meat! Remember how long it’s been since you tasted meat?  Can you remember?

Dumb Crispy could feel her heart pound.  The bird was harmless; it was free.  It could get out of the valley, flying over the boneyard, over the hills that surrounded the Grand House and the farm that belonged to it.

She didn’t want to kill it.

Then you’d better scavenge something better than fungus, Smart Crispy said.  Because I know what Roach is going to say when she hears that you saw meat and didn’t even take a shot.

All right, all right.  Crispy blinked rapidly; she wasn’t crying, of course—she never cried—but she had to blink before moving again.  Slowly she stuffed the last cones of graybread into the rags that served her as a tunic.  Then, slowly, reluctantly, she reached down to her rawhide belt, groping for her slingshot.    It was makeshift, with almost all the materials gathered from the boneyard.  A piece of tire from an old tractor for the cup.  Bits of rubber for elastic and a Y-shaped pipe for a handle.

Then she positioned herself, inching upward, praying that the mound of garbage at her back wouldn’t collapse.  And all the while she thought.  She thought herself part of the night, part of the boneyard, just another bit of garbage that the bird wouldn’t notice.

At last Crispy was in line for the shot.  Slowly she fitted a pebble into the slingshot.  Now was the time to disappear into the boneyard background.  The bird mustn’t sense any danger.  No danger… no danger…

That was the moment Crispy sensed the danger to herself.  It was unmistakable, and it was close. It was just a hint over the reek of garbage, a rank odor that froze Crispy’s heart.

Werewolf.

[frankensteined]

DEPUTY ROXANNE BAILEY (made using this template, edited to add/remove some stuff like body temperature who needs that)

BASIC INFORMATION

FULL NAME: roxanne bailey (no middle name~) PRONUNCIATION: rox-ann bay-lee MEANING: roxanne means “dawn/dawn of day” or “bright, radiant one” (which i did not know until right now!) REASONING: she was named after her father’s baby sister, who passed away when she was four years old (her father had been eight at the time). NICKNAME(S): roxie, rox, deputy/dep, rook/rookie (by the entire hope county sheriff’s department), “kid” (by dutch), shorty (by unexpected bff sharky boshaw, though he, along with most of her allies, tend to stick with “roxie”), brosenkrantz (by hurk jr, after a very intense debate over which of them was brosenkrantz and which was guildenstern), Various Terms Of Endearment from adelaide (but she calls everyone by those names so it doesn’t really count) re: the seeds and how they address her: • jacob’s taken to condescendingly calling her “precious”. as in, he did not take her seriously at first, so her attempts at bravado when they first met were greeted with a patronizing “aw, that’s cute. that’s just...precious.” so now he calls her ‘precious’ instead of ‘deputy’ half the time and she hate hate hates it.  • joseph has a way of saying her first name that somehow makes her feel like he’s the one that gave it to her, so she prefers him to use “deputy” as well. it makes her feel too exposed, otherwise.  • it doesn’t matter what john calls her; it always sounds like he’s playing with the name like it’s a toy she can’t get back from him.    • and faith asked during their first encounter if she could use ‘roxie’ for her “like we’re friends”, so even though that’s just her regular nickname, the way faith uses it always feels a little like a trap. or an invitation. roxie isn’t sure which is worse, especially since she isn’t entirely sure that it isn’t both.  

PREFERRED NAME(S): “just...anything but what the seeds call me. or the way they call me. ..you know what i mean.” BIRTH DATE: april 10, 1987  AGE: 31 (circa fc5 time, set in 2018) ZODIAC: aries GENDER: female PRONOUNS: she/her ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: biromantic SEXUAL ORIENTATION: bisexual NATIONALITY: american CURRENT LOCATION: hell hope county, montana LIVING CONDITIONS: UHHHHHH....currently not. awesome??? (”occasionally, i’ll find a house that hasn’t been riddled with bullet holes that i can rest in for a couple of hours? that’s fancy.”) often crashes either in fall’s end or nick rye’s house, but will catch a few hours of sleep at various locations that she’s helped liberate when she’s not in that area. nothing has become a sort of “home” for her yet, though. pretty much, as soon as she finds a place with a working shower she’ll plop down for a bit to recuperate and then moves on. likes to talk/joke about moving into the seed ranch now that it’s out of john’s hands, but also worries that if she does that he’ll harm hudson worse than he already has, out of revenge (so for now it’s just stops there to do laundry and shower and that’s probably pushing her luck enough).  TITLE(S):  junior dep-yoo-tee with the hope county sheriff’s department 

BACKGROUND

BIRTH PLACE: america  HOMETOWN: gunnison, colorado  SOCIAL CLASS: lower-middle class EDUCATION LEVEL: high school graduate; was attending columbia unversity on a scholarship (studying psychology), but didn’t complete her program  FATHER: jameson “jim” bailey -- owner of a local hardware store in gunnison MOTHER: elizabeth “liza” bailey (nee wright) -- high school art/music teacher SIBLING(S): none BIRTH ORDER: only child! CHILDREN: hahahaha no  PET(S): she grew up with a bunch of cats and no dogs, though she desperately wanted one. currently, her parents have four cats back home: ginger, roy, caesar, and bunny. in hope county, she has boomer (which is why she got so attached to him so quickly). there’s also cheeseburger and peaches, but they’re....not really pets, exactly (even if she pets them all the time)  OTHER IMPORTANT RELATIVES: lloyd bailey (paternal uncle, lives in missoula, montana), richard bailey (paternal grandfather, lives in flathead county, montana), sarah wright (maternal grandmother, lives in gunnison, colorado) PREVIOUS RELATIONSHIPS: michael lennon; ex-fiance. (he insisted on going by “len” which, now that she’s long out of that relationship, she jokes “should have been my first red flag that we weren’t going to last”. gets roasted pretty regularly by her friends in hope county over it after they find out: “your judgment’s been pretty good so far, but then again: you were gonna marry some dude who wanted people to call him len...so...”, etc)  ARRESTS?: nope! PRISON TIME?: ...not unless you could the literal cage that jacob’s kept her in~ DETAILED BACKGROUND:

• her father, jim, was born and raised in flathead county; he was the middle child, with an older brother and a younger sister, but lost his sister to an accident when she was four years old. he and his older brother became inseparable, and on his twenty-first birthday they set off on a roadtrip around the country, just to see what else was out there

• her mother was born out of wedlock to a woman who “found god” after she discovered that she was pregnant and was subsequently abandoned by her lover; liza wright never knew who her father was, as her mother refused to tell her, but she was assured that she was considered a gift, rather than a punishment.

•  jim and liza met when the brothers ventured through gunnison while on their trip; initially, it was lloyd who was interested in her, but jim’s soft-hearted demeanor was much more appealing in the face of his brother’s louder presence, and lloyd bowed out graciously. it quickly became a whirlwind romance, but liza called it off once he started talking about just staying in gunnison instead of completing his trip. jim told her he’d be back once he was done, but she didn’t believe him. she should have; he returned that fall, hoping she hadn’t moved on. she hadn’t. they resumed their romance, much to her mother’s displeasure, and were married the following spring (also to her mother’s displeasure)

• jim got work at the local hardware store, while liza began her career of teaching at the local high school. she’d planned on just teaching one subject, but due to a series of administrative mishaps she took on an additional role as the music teacher as well. within a year, though, she discovered that she was pregnant. they hadn’t planned on having kids so soon, but there was no helping it. jim ended up taking over the store, while liza worked until she couldn’t anymore. their daughter was born the next spring; they named her in honor of jim’s baby sister 

• roxanne was a healthy, happy baby, but her parents were finally beginning to come down from their whirlwind relationship, and began to worry about money more and more. they did their very best, and they loved their daughter, but roxanne grew up thinking that it was normal that her father was only around for dinner time at 6 pm, and that he was in bed by 8 o’clock. she grew up thinking that it was normal for mothers to stay up late into the night with work, so she’d need to put herself to bed from the earliest age she could. she grew up entertaining herself, but needing to be quiet about it, lest she wake her father, or interrupt her mother’s grading or lesson planning.

• she grew up lonely. roxanne has very vivid memories of sitting on the school steps, watching parents picking up their children one by one, and having to wait until well after everyone else had gone home before one of hers remembered to get her. she remembers being embarrassed as her teachers had to sit and wait with her, and she remembers being in third grade and deciding to try to just walk home on her own; naturally, she got lost, and was found crying on a corner by the sheriff. after he drove her home, arrangements were made for her grandmother to begin picking her up and keeping her at her house until one of her parents were done work

• sarah wright might have disapproved in her daughter’s choice of career, her choice of husband, and her choice in her granddaughter’s name (she had been hoping that liza would have at least given roxanne her name as a middle name!), but she wasn’t a cruel person, and she tried her best to make her home accommodating for her increasingly moody granddaughter. roxie would later go on to recall how her grandmother would refrain from bludgeoning her with “too much church talk”, but she would make comments such as “i’ve been praying for you lately, because i know you aren’t doing it for yourself”, and other such things that would sour her on faith in general, but she shrugs it off by adding “at least i wasn’t alone all the time”. it was her grandmother who suggested she try some sort of physical activity to get her frustrations out, and she enrolled her in dance lessons, which roxanne would stick with for much of her adolescence.

• by middle school, roxanne’s moodiness had given way to real, proper anger. she was angry at her father for always being at work instead of spending time with her. she was angry with her mother for prioritizing other people’s children over her own. she was angry with her teachers for innocent infractions, such as not realizing that casually suggesting that her parents could help her with her homework felt like the equivalent to open mockery to her. eventually, the anger turned into acting out, which eventually landed her in a chair opposite a children’s counselor; here, she’d actually begin to voice these issues, which delivered a much needed wake up call to her parents. they began to seek out ways to better balance their lives, and roxanne began to realize that she rather enjoyed being able to see where her anger was stemming from, and see where it was going. it was her first brush with understanding psychology, and that redirected her focus towards the subject once she hit high school.   

• speaking of which, things improved by the time she entered high school. it helped that she was now seeing her mother regularly in school, and she got a part time job as a waitress in the diner across the street from her father’s store so she could see him on his breaks, but beyond that she simply...had a place to put her energy now. more accurately: her goal was to get out of gunnison, and to study psychology. everything else seemed to fall into a strange, but welcome place in the background. her family began taking yearly trips to visit her uncle and grandparents in montana, where they would go hiking and camping, and her uncle would introduce her to bird watching. those trips became some of her fondest memories

 •  she worked her ass off in high school, academically-speaking, in order to have a shot at a scholarship. her mother’s position definitely helped her to at least get the audience she needed to apply for one, but roxie somehow, miraculously, managed to get one to her top school of choice mostly through her own merit. she left for columbia university, and while she was feeling wildly out of her depth there, she managed to attract a small bunch of (much more well-off) friends who saw her as a “project”. it wasn’t a flattering comparison, but by this point she had come to attach herself to anyone who actively appeared to choose her over others, and so she was inducted into their numbers and it shielded her from getting too in over her head, financially and emotionally 

• one member of that social circle was michael lennon, a bio-med student, son of a senator, asked that everyone just refer to him as “len”, who, for reasons she still doesn’t understand, decided that he needed to pursue her. he was far from her type, and she turned him down initially to focus on her classes, but that only increased his interest. despite herself, roxanne was flattered by the attention, even if he was self-important. eventually, they began dating, whereupon he introduced her to things like galas (which she hated), yachts (which she hated), and how to fly his own, personal, two-seater plane (ridiculous...but she kind of enjoyed that). eventually, he asked her to marry him, and, again, for reasons she still doesn’t understand, she accepted his proposal. (...it was because it was the ultimate “i choose you” display. that’s the reason, even if she doesn’t want to acknowledge that)  

• back home, her father’s struggles with money only increased, and her mother returned to throwing herself into her work at the school. it became the perfect storm needed for a man by the name of “cal jethrow” to waltz on in and offer jim help, only to turn around and con him out of everything. jim had thought that he was going to expand his business, and that could keep him afloat, but by the time that cal vanished (with his fakey-fake name), he was left with nothing. as soon as roxanne had all the details, she was already on a flight back home. her parents had told her not to return, but she ignored them. len had told her not to go, but she ignored him. her return home was bittersweet, but she was in a better position than any of them were to dig her heels in and try to help her parents back on their feet

• len told her that if she stayed, their engagement was off. with a detachment that really should have tipped her off to how little she actually loved him, roxie replied “then it’s off.” he then went on and told her to hold onto the ring “for when she came back around” (because he’s a jackass). she turned around and pawned it as soon as she got off the phone with him, so her father could keep the store running for the next month. with her life firmly turned on its head, she began looking for work that would help her help her parents, and found herself facing that same sheriff that had helped her all those years ago. she was trained up, and joined the ranks of the sheriff’s department as soon as possible.

• eventually, financial matters smoothed, somewhat, but issues between jim and liza only worsened. their relationship, which had never exactly been on anything other than shaky legs to begin with, had been strained to the point of fraying. they were forced to admit that they were struggling during another trip to montana, after jim’s mother’s passing, and roxie, attempting to keep her own anger in check, asked them what she could do to help beyond what she’d already done for them. they admitted that they were blaming themselves, and each other, for her returning home, so she suggested that she just stay in montana, with her uncle lloyd, for a while in order to give them space to figure their own shit out (direct quote). so, that’s what she did. 

• her uncle was (self-appointedly) tasked with helping her find a job in montana, initially in missoula, where he lived, but he heard from an old friend, earl whitehorse, out in hope county, that he was looking for a new deputy. lloyd and his niece debated the position, with him filling her in on hope county’s history, and the cult that was operating within it, framing it as nothing she couldn’t handle, given her psychology background.  “you think i can, what, deprogram people in a cult?” she asked.  “christ, no! you just won’t get scared from it, is all i’m sayin’! anyways, those seeds are keeping to themselves, so i hear. you probably won’t even see them very often. it’ll be breaking up barfights and handling domestics, just like you’re used to!”  she considered her uncle’s sales pitch. “alright,” she shrugged. “give your buddy a call. what’s the worst that can happen?”     

• freshly relocated to hope county, roxie found herself immediately taking a liking to sheriff whitehorse, as well a fellow deputies joey hudson and staci pratt. they welcomed her with genuine warmth, taking it upon themselves to give her rides to work, as well as good-natured hazing (referring to her exclusively as “rook” when it wasn’t just ‘rookie’, and teasing her when she decided to wear the nickname as a badge of honor, since she already was a bit of a dork as far as bird knowledge went). by the time us marshal cameron burke appeared, tasking them all to accompany him in his arrest of joseph seed, pratt and hudson had delivered her one last prank: they’d had her uniform shirt ordered with the name “rook” on it instead of “bailey”. roxie found it hilarious, but nancy, the dispatcher, assured her that she’d already placed a new order for a proper uniform shirt for her. roxie dramatically thanked her for being the only person to have her back. (*sad trombone noises*)

• on the way over to the compound, while on the helicopter, roxie was checking her phone for the briefest of refreshers on the project at eden’s gate. her mother attempted to call her, but she dismissed it, intending to call back later than night, after the arrest was done and they’d all gone home.

• and. well. ....here we are. (note: at the time that i’m writing this, roxie’s sitting just shy of full resistance points in all three territories, but she’s yet to confront any of the heralds in their final encounters yet. so, that’s where i’ll be imagining her at for the most part, because it’s a fun dynamic to be playing around with, in terms of her relationships with all the other characters)  

OCCUPATION & INCOME

PRIMARY SOURCE OF INCOME: does “deputy with the HCSD” even mean anything anymore? she isn’t exactly getting paid right now... SECONDARY SOURCE OF INCOME: ummm...selling pelts?  TERTIARY SOURCE(S) OF INCOME: UMMM....looting peggies? APPROXIMATE AMOUNT PER YEAR: $Who, cares, about, money, right, now. ?? CONTENT WITH THEIR JOB (OR LACK THERE OF)?: “...y’know...i think my job could be better these days...”  PAST JOB(S): waitress, deputy with the gunnison county sheriff department  SPENDING HABITS: she’s actually always been pretty frugal, but given her current situation she’s more willing to part with funds for the sake of better supplies (or clothing). mostly, her response has been “why are you making me pay for this when i’m helping--no. you know what? fine. just give me the keys to the helicopter.” (Capitalism Never Sleeps, roxanne)  MOST VALUABLE POSSESSION: a necklace with a gold wishbone pendant; her mother gave it to her when she was leaving for university, “for luck”. it has since absolutely gone missing thanks to the nightmare that is her current life in hope county, but she doesn’t know when she lost it. could have been when john had her in his bunker and he was prepping her for confession. could have been when she was being dragged into a cage at jacob’s behest. could have been while she was wandering around in some bliss-fueled hallucination. she doesn’t know, it does upset her, and, yes, she’s taking it as a sign that her luck’s running out.   

SKILLS & ABILITIES

PHYSICAL STRENGTH: 7/10 (she’s stronger than she looks and has decent enough upper arm strength to pull herself up ledges and ropes without struggling, but she’s also not going to win any brawls unless she ends up with an unexpected advantage) OFFENSE: 6/10 (knows how to fight, But Would Prefer Not To) DEFENSE: 8/10 (knows how to defend herself And Prefers That Very Much Actually) SPEED: 8/10 (outruns a lot of chosen in their helicopters. pisses them off. pisses the seeds off. feels good. ♥) INTELLIGENCE: 7/10 (she was a good student and has a good enough head on her shoulders, but generally isn’t too above average outside of her preferred interests) ACCURACY: depends on her condition 8/10 (generally, pretty good! she hates it!) AGILITY: 8/10 (can successfully walk in a straight line and run without tripping, can dance well, but has also slipped off a dock and fallen into the water while trying to be sneaky, so...) STAMINA: 5/10 (running on fumes most of the time these days, but still does just enough to keep going!) TEAMWORK: 9/10 (she prefers to work with others! the only times that she tries to go it alone is either if she thinks a situation is going to be too dangerous for them, or if she’s experienced something especially upsetting. she can quickly get called out of that funk by someone simply reaching out to her, however, so all in all she’s a really good team player) TALENTS: ignoring the practical skills she is honing during this ordeal (ie: picking locks), she has a stupid amount of knowledge about birds and how to get by in the woods, thanks to her uncle. she’s also a fairly skilled dancer (she was absolutely That Person who went out to clubs to actually just dance when she was in university), but generally just prefers to dance like an idiot to relieve stress. she’s a little bit crafty, too, thanks to her mother’s background in the arts, but her talents are limited to making non-fancy jewelry (though she will friendship bracelet the hell out of someone if given the chance)   SHORTCOMINGS: not so great with melee weapons/hand to hand sorts of situations and has been knocked on her ass too many times to count. she’s also not super wild on heights, so every time she needs to climb something high her heart’s firmly lodged in her throat.     LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN: english is the only language she speaks fluently, alas DRIVE?: she’s a great driver! [footage not found] JUMP-STAR A CAR?: she can get it eventually, but definitely not on the first try. luckily, she travels with much more competent car-lifters :’) CHANGE A FLAT TIRE?: if she has to but there are so many abandoned vehicles everywhere is it really worth it when you can just take a new one?  RIDE A BICYCLE?: yes!  SWIM?: yep, and she’s had to do a lot of it lately, unfortunately. she’s always in need of dry socks :( PLAY AN INSTRUMENT?: her mom tried to get her into playing instruments when she was younger, and she can pluck away at guitars well enough, but she never stuck with anything long enough to get really good at it PLAY CHESS?: hahahahahahaha no. BRAID HAIR?: yeah, but she can’t remember the last time she’s braided anyone’s hair (including her own) TIE A TIE?: yep! PICK A LOCK?: heck yes that was the second or third perk i unlocked for her

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE & CHARACTERISTICS

FACE CLAIM: krysten ritter EYE COLOR: hazel  HAIR COLOR: black HAIR TYPE/STYLE: shoulder length, straight. ties it back when it’s hot out.  GLASSES/CONTACTS?: thankfully unneeded (though she will wear sunglasses if she finds a cool pair)  DOMINANT HAND: right handed HEIGHT: 5′9″ WEIGHT: 130 lbs BUILD: slight EXERCISE HABITS: running and hiding and climbing and crouching and swimming and absolutely none of it is done for fun :) SKIN TONE: fair TATTOOS: none yet PEIRCINGS: she has her ears pierced once in each ear, but nothing more fun than that MARKS/SCARS: she’s absolutely covered in scars across her torso/arms/back/legs these days (or, if they aren’t scars already, they’re definitely going to be once they’ve healed up properly!). by far her most concerning scar is the one on her neck that came from a wolf attack, uncomfortably close to a spot that’d have been pretty fatal if she’d been less fortunate. she’s also got a burn scar on her upper left arm thanks to being too close to sharky being sharky (she doesn’t blame him, though. honest accident!)     USUAL EXPRESSION: lately it’s been like this when it comes to seeing what an epic shitstorm she’s landed herself in, but prior to this she was much more relaxed and oftentimes open, if not downright playful, with others. that side still shines through when she’s with her friends in hope county, but it’s getting harder and harder to feel that way the worse and worse it gets. still, she’s trying to keep it together.  CLOTHING STYLE: currently she’s stomping around in a tank top, jeans, combat boots, and a hat on, but even before coming here she was always a pretty basic jeans/t-shirt type of person. doesn’t get too attached to clothing these days, because it always gets damaged if not literally torn off her JEWELRY: the aforementioned necklace that’s gone missing, as well as some larger rings that she’s found in abandoned houses throughout the county that she keeps on to add extra insult to any punch she might need to deliver.  ALLERGIES: n/a DIET: ironically, she eats fresher food now than she did before coming here. her current diet mostly consists of whatever gets hunted/fished up and whatever canned foods she finds in prepper stashes around the county, though now that the resistance has reclaimed a number of farms she’s been able to enjoy more variety. is gonna storm john’s bunker for a chocolate bar someday, though, seriously PHYSICAL AILMENTS: just...basically perpetually injured at this point. always at least a little Fucked Up 

PSYCHOLOGY

JUNG TYPE: i took three different tests to see and in two of them she got the “hero/champion” archetype, so that’s what she is (as much as it pains her) MBTI: ENFP ENNEAGRAM TYPE: six “the skeptic” MORAL ALIGNMENT: neutral good TEMPERAMENT: choleric ELEMENT: fire PRIMARY INTELLIGENCE TYPE: interpersonal/intrapersonal MENTAL CONDITIONS/DISORDERS: she was neglected for much of her early upbringing, and with that came issues involving anger and attachment. while she was in a much healthier place recently, some of those issues are resurfacing as she’s feeling more and more pressure from dealing with This Mess  SOCIABILITY: prior to all of this, roxanne was slow to engage with others, but quick to befriend and trust them if they showed her an equal level of enthusiasm towards her. that’s essentially still the case, and she certainly excels when she’s in groups of people, but she’s becoming obviously more withdrawn and jumpy, finding it hard to accept praise or to feel like others are being honest with her when they thank her. but she still thrives off of that validation, so she keeps herself surrounded by other people as often as possible.   EMOTIONAL STABILITY: L O L it’s all over the fucking place these days. she has a hard time controlling her anger, but on the flip side she’s also become even more fiercely affectionate and protective towards her friends. some days, she will swallow back every feeling she has, and the next she might end up crying over any little thing. her emotional state is kind of like sharky’s homemade, duct tape reinforced flamethrower: it’s holding together, but you’re always gonna be a little worried that it’s gonna blow up and take out everyone around it under the wrong circumstances.  OBSESSION(S): for the sake of keeping sane, she’s 100% thrown herself into collecting the comics and bobbleheads and whatnot that she comes across. sometimes, roxie and her team will search a house that contains nothing but a baseball card for her collection and still consider it a success COMPULSION(S): she’s compelled to...break every tv set she comes across that’s broadcasting something she doesn’t want to see on it :) PHOBIA(S): shockingly, she’s developed an extreme fear of drowning! wonder where that came from. ADDICTION(S): she’s addicted to validation and having people choose her (going all the way back to her childhood, where her parents often did not prioritize her over others, despite their best efforts). this really, really isn’t something that she acknowledges in herself, but it does explain her responses to the accolades the people of hope county throw at her: even though she absolutely doesn’t think she deserves it, it keeps her going. she tells herself it’s because she has to keep going for them, and that’s true(!), but there’s a part of her that is sated in having others validate her. unfortunately, that also subconsciously influences her responses to the focus the cult has on her as well.      DRUG USE: recreationally in her youth, but hasn’t done any for some time. (unless you count helping aaron kirby/tweak out once by being his guinea pig) ALCOHOL USE: occasionally; more so when stressed, though she tries to keep a clear head as often as possible. still, if it’s there, she’s gonna drink it. PRONE TO VIOLENCE?: ........guilty.

MANNERISMS

SPEECH STYLE: she’s fairly blunt, but surprisingly playful even now. keeping a sense of glibness to her responses, hopefully, masks just how poorly she’s coping with all of this. it isn’t all a front, though: she does genuinely speak with levity when she’s with her friends, enjoying being able to banter and joke with them, because they bring out the best in her. she used to be much more mouthy towards her enemies, until she saw firsthand how her allies were faring in their clutches. now, she saves those kinds of comments for just the right level of tension. there’s no sense in antagonizing them verbally when they’re in a better position to hurt her friends than she is to save them.

ACCENT: american QUIRKS: • even before coming to hope county, she was someone you could count on to always have gum on her person, and that’s especially true now. she’ll use pieces of gum as a peace offering/extending of an olive branch to people who don’t quite trust her, figuring that even the grumpiest of people can be won over thanks to the promise of fresh breath these days.  •  she also tends to “ask permission” of her animal companions before doing something dumb or reckless. if cheeseburger didn’t say no, then it’s fine, right? NERVOUS TICKS: fidgeting and picking at her hangnails  DRIVES/MOTIVATIONS: • from the beginning, her main drive was to understand herself, which fortunately branched out to understanding others. that’s how she came to understand and make peace with her parents, it’s what made her able to harness her own negative emotions (...usually), and it’s what made her think that she’d fare okay in hope county in the first place. she’s still trying to understand these people, as much as she is trying to survive them. •  she also, of course, wants a place to belong to. so much of what she grew up tolerating was in the name of being wanted and appreciated, and whenever she finds that it becomes dear to her, even if it isn’t necessarily a positive thing (ie: frickin’ len). thankfully, the friends she’s made here are quite happy to accept her into their numbers, so she doesn’t need to pull validation from elsewhere (even though...it’s out there, in some twisted form)  • also, revenge? vengeance? not a positive goal, but!! it’s in there, simmering! FEARS: she fears so much lately it’s easier to list what she isn’t scared of, but obviously the biggest one is failing everyone that’s counting on her. it’s dying here. it’s her own mind, thanks to jacob. it’s joseph. but also, it’s turkeys, because those assholes are bloodthirsty. POSITIVE TRAITS: roxie is loyal to a fault, and absolutely fails any attempt she makes to turn her back on someone that she could help. she’s genuinely affectionate with her friends, and enjoys having inside jokes and opportunities to be silly with the people who like having her around, which, all in all, makes her a really good friend. she grew up without many of those, so she tries to be better than what she started with.      NEGATIVE TRAITS: roxie’s prone to flashes of anger and tends to hold grudges because of it. it makes her somewhat vengeful (part of why she leaned toward law enforcement was because she liked to imagine taking down the guy who conned her dad), which can sometimes make her take risks she really shouldn’t. she has a stubborn streak that borders on foolishness at times, and that makes her unable to just walk away when it would be better for everyone involved. she also does not handle loneliness well at all.

also she’s been turned into a brainwashed attack dog whenever jacob plays his gd song SENSE OF HUMOR: her own brand of humor is pretty dry/sarcastic/it’s-a-defense-mechanism, but in the right company she’ll lean into being silly/absurd and goofing off a fair bit (traveling with sharky and hurk together really brings that side out the most often, though nick and adelaide can get that too. she at least tries to be more serious with grace and jess, but between the three of them she’s probably the most likely to goof off). roxie does find sharky and hurk’s nonsense genuinely hilarious about....85% of the time, and although adelaide’s style doesn’t match her own at all, it still cracks her up a lot of the time as well (in an incredulous way). DO THEY CURSE OFTEN?: only when stressed :) which :) i mean... :) :) :)

FAVORITES

ACTIVITY: dancing ♥ ANIMAL: birds (except turkeys. she knew true betrayal when a wild turkey first attacked her)  BEVERAGE: no one believes her when she says this, but it’s really just any herbal tea! COLOR: the kind of deep orange you associate with autumn FOOD: blueberries! she likes blueberry flavoured anything. (least favourite: peas) FLOWER:  peonies  (least favourite is.....bliss flowers. obviously. but also roses, because she associates them with cheap apologies) GEM: citrine HOLIDAY: halloween! (all about that fall aesthetic) MODE OF TRANSPORTATION: cars, though she’s getting less rammy with big fuckoff trucks in hope county :) (least favourite is probably the quad because she. tends to crash them.) MOVIE: the wizard of oz (least favourite: moulin rouge, entirely because of “el tango de roxanne”. or, more specifically, how it influenced people to say her name for like five years after the movie came out)  SCENERY: as shitty as her situation is, montana really is beautiful, and she appreciates a lot of the natural sights around when she’s moving from place to place SCENT: fresh laundry is always a good one, but she’ll be the first person to admit that a really nice cologne or perfume will turn her head quickly. it’s a weakness. (least favourite is....uh. the smell of burning bodies, which wasn’t something she’d ever expect to have firsthand experience with, but here we are.) SPORTS TEAM: “uh....go cougars?” WEATHER: the kind you get right before a storm is rolling in, though she’s also fond of a good ol’ thunderstorm as well. (least favourite is snowy anything. she does not enjoy winter) VACATION DESTINATION: ironically, it used to be camping in montana. now it’d be...literally anywhere but here.

ATTITUDES

GREATEST DREAM: being able to see her parents again GREATEST FEAR: “i just don’t want to die here.”  MOST AT EASE WHEN: she’s taken to setting some time aside for herself to play with boomer, or to lounge against cheeseburger when there’s some precious downtime. sometimes peaches will come lay across her lap then, too, and there’s something really reassuring about having these apex predators just relaxing with her, knowing that they’ll keep her safe.  also, the jukebox at the spread eagle often gets hijacked after really stressful days, and being able to dance for a bit without worrying about an airstrike or something interrupting does wonders for putting her at ease. sometimes, her friends will put the music on for her and force her to dance with them when she’s in an especially bad funk, and it’s hard to really stay up in her own head when she sees them go to that much trouble for her sake ♥ worth noting: most of this dancing is not, strictly speaking, good, but it is ridiculous and fun. (and that’s valid!) LEAST AT EASE WHEN: joseph seed is making very intense eye contact with her (which is the only way he seems to make eye contact with anybody, in his defense) WORST POSSIBLE THING THAT COULD HAPPEN: she literally can’t think of anything at this point that could make things worse for her, save a literal, actual apocalypse hahaha :( BIGGEST ACHIEVEMENT: retaking the hope county jail and saving sheriff whitehorse. having him back has been the first real sense of normalcy to return to her life, and was the push she needed to press on towards trying to locate and rescue hudson and pratt.  BIGGEST REGRET: ...failing thus far to save either hudson or pratt. in joey’s case, roxie can sort of forgive herself, because she wasn’t in the absolute best position to be able to rescue her, but having been so close to her that she could see the tear tracks on her cheeks while john was wheeling her out of the room still weighs on roxie even now. she can’t stop to think about what she left hudson to deal with in there without feeling sick.  in staci’s case, the feelings of regret and guilt are even worse because they’d come so close to being able to escape jacob together, but it was never enough. pratt had saved her, and he was left behind to suffer for it. she’s taken to smashing every tv she comes across that’s looping that video of him being left to die.    MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENT: probably this moment when she first met hurk. it was a Class Act. BIGGEST SECRET: the seeds get to her. they’re in her head, she can’t shake certain things that each of them have said to her, and it all really boils down to the fact that a part of her -not even a part that she wants to recognize or acknowledge - thrills at the attention they have fixed on her. that part of her that yearns to be a priority is grateful, in a twisted way, that she’s apparently worth more than just a bullet in the head to them. that’s the part of her that’s keeping her skirting between territories, rather than just finishing it with the heralds one by one. roxie doesn’t accept that that’s what’s happening to her, but if she’d just stop to really think about it...she’d see that it’s true.   • despite the warnings, she can’t help but...wonder if maybe faith is actually sincere but has been manipulated. if maybe she could be reasoned with. she doubts it, but roxie has to admit that hearing faith’s accusatory “i thought you were different!” made her feel. well. bad. (roxie’s totally wrong about her, and she’s been warned against faith by loads of people, but. oops.)  •  she isn’t....not attracted to john. like. aesthetically. it’d be an absolutely terrible idea, she would hate herself if it happened, and she loudly rejected both sharky and adelaide’s observations on their dynamic, so she’s not even thinking about it, but. ...well, anyway. that’s one of those take-it-to-the-grave secrets so shh  •  out of all of them, despite what everyone else has done to her, the one that’s gotten to the her the most, the one that scares her the most, the one that’s seen through her the most, is joseph 

TOP PRIORITIES: “stay alive, save my team, save my friends, save the rest of the county, if i can. stay alive some more, finish this, then sleep, for a long, long time.” 

[blackkudos]

Tony Dorsett

Anthony Drew Dorsett (born April 7, 1954) is a former American football running back who played professionally in the National Football League (NFL) for the Dallas Cowboys and Denver Broncos.

From Western Pennsylvania, Dorsett attended the nearby University of Pittsburgh, where he led the Panthers to the national title as a senior in 1976 and won the Heisman Trophy. He was the first-round draft choice of the Cowboys in 1977, the second overall selection (from Seattle). Dorsett was the NFL Offensive Rookie of the Year and played for the team for 11 seasons, through 1987. He played for Denver the following year, then retired because of injuries. He is a member of the Pro Football Hall of Fame (1994) and the College Football Hall of Fame (1994).

Early years

The son of Wes and Myrtle, Dorsett grew up in Aliquippa, Pennsylvania, northwest of Pittsburgh. He attended Hopewell High School, where he played football and basketball.

As a high school sophomore in 1970, Dorsett started at cornerback, as his coaches did not believe the 147-pound Dorsett was big enough to play running back, the position he played in junior high school. In 1971, a competition between Dorsett and sophomore Michael Kimbrough for the starting running back position ended after Dorsett took a screen pass 75 yards for a touchdown against Ambridge during the season opener.

Dorsett ended the year as an All-State selection after rushing for 1,034 yards and scoring 19 touchdowns, while leading the Vikings to a 9–1 season. He also remained a starting cornerback on the defensive side. In basketball Dorsett helped his team reach the WPIAL quarterfinals.

In 1972, Dorsett was again an All-state Selection, after setting a single game rushing record with 247 yards against Sharon, a single season rushing record with 1,238 yards and the career rushing record with 2,272 yards, while leading the Vikings to a 9–1 season. Dorsett was also a key player on the defensive side as one of the starting linebackers.

For all the ability he had, Dorsett could never lead his team to the WPIAL Class AA playoffs, because in those days the teams had to have an undefeated record. The team's only loss in 1971 came against Sharon after Dorsett suffered a concussion and played less than a quarter, and the only loss in 1972 came against Butler while playing on a muddy field.

At the end of his senior season, he played at the Big 33 Football Classic. This was the first time that his future coach Johnny Majors saw him play live.

As a tribute to him, the school retired his 33 jersey and in 2001, Hopewell's Stadium was renamed Tony Dorsett Stadium.

College career

At the University of Pittsburgh, Dorsett became the first freshman in 29 years to be named All-American (Doc Blanchard of Army was the previous one in 1944). He finished second in the nation in rushing with 1,586 yards in 11 games and led the Pittsburgh Panthers to its first winning season in 10 years. He was Pittsburgh's first All-American selection since the 1963 season, when both Paul Martha and Ernie Borghetti were named to the first team. His 1,586 rushing yards at the time was the most ever recorded by a freshman, breaking the record set by New Mexico State's Ron "Po" James record in 1968. By coincidence, James, like Dorsett, hailed from Beaver County, Pennsylvania, specifically New Brighton. Although he was known as Anthony, the school's athletic department convinced him to go by Tony, to use the marketable initials TD as in touchdown.

At the beginning of Dorsett's freshman year at Pitt, his son Anthony Dorsett was born on September 14, 1973. Later in the 1973 season, Dorsett faced some criticism when it became known that his son was born out of wedlock, with some observers contending that he should drop out of school and marry his son's mother and financially support his family. Dorsett believed that the best way to care for his son was to continue to pursue his football career, a tactic that succeeded due to his successful professional career.

Three games into his sophomore season, he became Pitt's all-time leader in career rushing yards, surpassing the old record of 1,957 yards set by Marshall Goldberg, who helped Pitt to a national championship in 1937.

Against Notre Dame in his junior year, Dorsett had 303 yards rushing to break his own school single game rushing record. As a senior in 1976, he had a total of 290 yards against Notre Dame. He darted 61 yards on his first run of the season and tacked on 120 more by the end of the 31–10 Pitt win.

As a senior in 1976, he helped lead his school to a national title, picking up the Heisman Trophy, the Maxwell Award, the Walter Camp Award for player of the year, and the United Press International (UPI) Player of the Year award along the way as he led the nation in rushing with 2,150 yards. He was a three-time first-team All-American (1973, 1975, 1976) and a second-team All-American in 1974 by UPI and Newspaper Enterprise Association (NEA). Dorsett finished his college career with 6,082 total rushing yards, then an NCAA record. This would stand as the record until it was surpassed by Ricky Williams in 1998.

Dorsett was the first Pitt player to have his jersey retired, after being a four-time 1,000-yard rusher and four-time All-American. He is considered one of the greatest running backs in college football history. In 2007, he was ranked #7 on ESPN's Top 25 Players in College Football History list. In 1994, he was inducted into the College Football Hall of Fame.

Professional career

Dallas Cowboys

Entering the 1977 NFL Draft, Dorsett wasn't seen as a sure thing, with many scouts considering that his small size would be a liability in the long term and affect his durability. He had also informed the expansion Seattle Seahawks that he didn't want to play for them.

The Dallas Cowboys selected him with the second overall choice, after trading their first pick (#14-Steve August) and three second-round choices (#30-Tom Lynch, #41-Terry Beeson, #54-Glenn Carano) to the Seahawks, in order to move up in the first round. Dorsett signed a five-year contract for a reported $1.1 million, becoming the first player in franchise history to reach this amount, although it was the second largest contract signed for a rookie, with Ricky Bell beating Dorsett with a $1.2 million contract.

From the beginning, Dorsett and head coach Tom Landry had differing opinions on how he should run the ball. Landry initially designed precise running plays, but was eventually convinced that Dorsett was a different type of running back and instructed the offensive line to block and hold their man, while Dorsett chose the running lane with his gifted vision and instincts.

In 1977, Dorsett's rookie year, he provided an instant impact, rushing for 1,007 yards (including a 206-yard rushing effort against the Philadelphia Eagles), scoring 12 touchdowns and earning rookie of the year honors. He set a new Cowboys rookie record and was also the only Cowboy to rush for more than 1,000 yards in his rookie season. He held the record for 39 years, until 2016, when Ezekiel Elliott surpassed 1,000 yards in his 9th game and broke Dorsett's record in game 10 with 1,102 yards.

He was named the starter in the tenth game of the season, and became the first player to win the college football championship, then win the Super Bowl the next year, when the Cowboys beat the Denver Broncos 27–10 in Super Bowl XII. In his second season, Dorsett recorded 1,325 yards and 9 touchdowns, with the Cowboys once again reaching the Super Bowl, although they lost 35–31 to the Pittsburgh Steelers in Super Bowl XIII.

In 1980 he had one of his best runs. With the ball on the four-yard line against the St. Louis Cardinals, the right defensive end and linebacker had penetration, while the two cornerbacks were blitzing. Dorsett suddenly pivoted on his right foot, turned 360 degrees and ran wide around the left side, beating the safety and eluding a total of five defenders for a touchdown without being touched.

His most productive season was in 1981, when he recorded 1,646 yards, breaking the Cowboys franchise record.

In 1982, his streak of 5 straight years with at least 1,000 rushing yards was interrupted by the strike-shortened season. Dallas only played 9 games, with Dorsett registering 745 yards and 5 touchdowns. In the final regular season game against the Minnesota Vikings, he set a record that can only be tied, with a 99-yard touchdown run. Derrick Henry tied his record with a 99-yard touchdown run in 2018.

Prior to the 1985 season, he held out, demanding that his contract be renegotiated. Defensive tackle Randy White had been given a larger contract by the Cowboys.

In 1986, running back Herschel Walker was signed by the Cowboys and moved to fullback, so he could share backfield duties with Dorsett, becoming the second Heisman backfield tandem in NFL history, after George Rogers and Earl Campbell were teammates on the 1984 New Orleans Saints. This move created tension, as it would limit Dorsett's playing time, and because Walker's $5 million five-year contract exceeded his $4.5 million five-year contract. Although Dorsett was slowed by ankle and knee injuries that caused him to miss 3 games, he still led the Cowboys in rushing for the 10th consecutive season with 748 yards.

In 1987, Walker complained with Cowboys management that he was being moved around between three different positions (running back, fullback, wide receiver) and that Dorsett had more carries. He took over as the team's main running back, with Dorsett playing in 12 games (6 starts) and rushing for 456 yards on 130 carries. Dorsett was not played in two games despite being healthy, which made him demand a trade.

On June 2, 1988, Dorsett was traded to the Denver Broncos in exchange for a conditional fifth-round draft choice. He left as the franchise's rushing leader (12,036 yards) and second in league history in postseason rushing yards (1,383).

Denver Broncos

The Denver Broncos acquired Dorsett because they were desperate to improve their running game. He reunited with former Cowboys offensive coordinator Dan Reeves and it was reported that at the age of 34, he could still run 40 yards in 4.3 seconds. With the retirement of Walter Payton the previous year, he was the career leader in rushing yards among active players. He also had a positive impact on the offense until being limited with injuries late in the season, appearing in 16 games (13 starts), while leading the team with 703 rushing yards and 5 rushing touchdowns.

On September 26, 1988, Dorsett moved into second place of the all-time rushing list with 12,306 yards, and would finish his career with 12,739 yards, trailing only Walter Payton. He retired after suffering torn left knee ligaments during training camp the following season.

Legacy

Dorsett rushed for 12,739 yards and 77 touchdowns in his 12-year career. Dorsett also had 13 receiving scores and even a fumble recovery for a touchdown. On January 3, 1983, during a Monday Night Football game in Minnesota, Dorsett broke a 99-yard touchdown run against the Vikings, which is the longest run from scrimmage in NFL history (Derrick Henry of the Tennessee Titans would tie this record in 2018). Dorsett broke the previous record of 97 yards, set by Andy Uram in 1939 and Bob Gage in 1949. The Cowboys only had 10 men on the field at the time, as fullback Ron Springs was unaware of the play being called. Despite the feat, the Cowboys lost the game 27–31.

Dorsett made the Pro Bowl 4 times during his career (1978, 1981–1983) and rushed for over 1,000 yards in 8 of his first 9 seasons. Of his 12 NFL seasons, he surpassed 1,000 yards eight times. During the strike-shortened, 9-game season of 1982, he led the NFC in rushing with 745 yards. He was a First-team All-Pro in 1981 and a Second-team All-Pro in 1982 and 1983.

Dorsett was elected to both the Pro Football Hall of Fame and the College Football Hall of Fame in 1994 and was enshrined in the Texas Stadium Ring of Honor the same year. In 1999, he was ranked number 53 on The Sporting News' list of the 100 Greatest Football Players. He is the first of only two players in history (along with former running back Marcus Allen) who has won the Heisman Trophy, won the Super Bowl, won the College National Championship, been enshrined in the College Hall of Fame, and been enshrined in the Pro Football Hall Of Fame.

The football stadium at Hopewell High School in Aliquippa, Pennsylvania, is named after Dorsett and a street near Heinz Field, the home stadium of the University of Pittsburgh, is named after him.

Personal life

Dorsett has four children: Anthony, Jazmyn, Madison, and Mia (with current wife Janet). His son, Anthony, also played football at the University of Pittsburgh and played defensive back in the NFL from 1996 to 2003, making Super Bowl appearances with the Tennessee Titans (Super Bowl XXXIV) and Oakland Raiders (Super Bowl XXXVII).

Dorsett hosts the Tony Dorsett Celebrity Golf Classic for McGuire Memorial. This event has raised nearly $5 million in support of McGuire Memorial's mission.

Dorsett has helped improve the health of current and former professional athletes through promoting awareness of sleep apnea across the United States. He has teamed up with prize-winning orthodontic technician David Gergen and the Pro Player Health Alliance to hold free public awareness events in local communities all over the nation. Dorsett has helped get over 150 former players successfully treated for sleep apnea.

Health issues

In November 2013, Dorsett announced he had signs of chronic traumatic encephalopathy (CTE), a brain disease found in many former football players, boxers, and hockey players. Specifically, Dorsett referred to memory loss as the major symptom affecting him in retirement.

[the-record-obituaries]

Feb. 26, 2020: Obituaries

Annie Harris, 69

Annie Lou Harris, age 69, of North Wilkesboro, passed away Thursday, February 20, 2020 at her home. She was born April 9, 1950 in Wilkes County to Grover and Margaret Whellington Gentry. Annie was a member of Denny Grove AME Zion Church, where she served as a deaconess, on the usher board; and the treasury board. Mrs. Harris graduated from East Wilkes High School and attended Wilkes Community College with a major in Early Childhood education. Annie had a passion for teaching and spent 30 years in the Woodlawn community preparing preschool children for elementary school. She felt that cultural exposure, discipline and resilience were qualities to equip children with a strong foundation. Mrs. Harris always encouraged children to learn from their mistakes and discouraged them from repeating the same mistakes. Her faith in God was her foundation for life. She was preceded in death by her parents.

Surviving are her husband, Douglas Harris of the home; daughter, Teia Weldon and spouse Dexter of Marietta, Georgia; step-daughters, Nena Gilreath Lucas and spouse Waverly of East Point, Georgia, Hope Gilreath Carter and spouse Allen of Jonesville; step-son, Douglas Harris and spouse Tysole of Ellenwood, Georgia; brothers, John Edward Gentry of Boone, David Gentry of Roaring River; sisters, Lillie Miller of Lancaster, California, Shirley Gentry of Charleston, South Carolina; nieces, DeShanta Richardson, Siah Perez and spouse Francisco, Michelle Gentry; nephews, Kirkland Gentry and Keith Gentry; great nieces, Andrea Richardson and Amiah Richardson; great nephews, Miguel Perez and Liam Perez host of loving cousins and friends.

Funeral service was February 25, at Miller Funeral Chapel with Rev. Michael Gillespie, Rev. Wayne Harris and Rev. Gene Martin officiating. Burial  followed in Mountlawn Memorial Park. In lieu of flowers, memorials may be made to Denny Grove AME Zion Church, P.O.Box 253, Wilkesboro, NC 28697. Miller Funeral Service is in charge of the arrangements.  

  Talmo Holbrook, 84

Talmo Holbrook, age 84, of Traphill, passed away Friday, February 21, 2020 at Woltz Hospice Home in Dobson. Talmo was born October 18, 1935 in Wilkes County to Lester and Ruby Richardson Holbrook. Mr. Holbrook was a retired U.S. Army Veteran and National Guard. He was the best fiddle player in town. Talmo was preceded in death by his parents; and his wife, Rosemarie Schumann Holbrook.

Surviving are his daughters, Angela Wyatt and fiancé Scotty Church of North Wilkesboro, Jeannette Goss and spouse Rick of Traphill, Debbie Woodie of North Wilkesboro; son, Benny Holbrook and spouse Libby of North Wilkesboro; grandchildren, Brittany Luffman and spouse Austin, Brad Brown, Tyler Woodie, Brad Eller and spouse Corrina, Jon Rhodes and Traci, Ricky Goss and spouse Samantha; great grandchildren, Jaxton Luffman and Zane Luffman; brothers, Randall Whitley and spouse Ruby of Traphill, Jesse Whitley of Wilkesboro.

A private family memorial service will be held. Flowers will be accepted or memorials may be made to Woltz Hospice Home, 945 Zephyr Road, Dobson, NC 27017. Miller Funeral Service is in charge of the arrangements.  

  Elmer Pearson, 81

Elmer Delano Pearson, age 81, of Boomer, passed away Thursday, February 20, 2020 at his home. Elmer was born October 2, 1938 in Wilkes County to John Philo and Lucinda Goodwin Pearson. Mr. Pearson was a member of Mt. Caramel Baptist Church. He loved to do woodwork and had his own woodworking shop. Elmer loved bird watching, loved raising bees and using his metal detector. He was preceded in death by his parents; and brothers, Robert and Earl Pearson.

Surviving are his wife, Romilda Penley Pearson of the home; his children, Gregory Pearson and spouse Sandra, Barbara Huggins and spouse Hal, Susie Griffith and fiancé Marvin Stamper all of Boomer, Jeffrey Pearson of Mulberry; grandchildren, Stephanie Eller, Jonathan Pearson, Beth Huggins, Shannon Reed, Jessica Huggins, Ronnie Griffith, Misty Howard, Adam Griffith, Corey Ferguson, Mindy Govea, Cassie Pearson; and sixteen great grandchildren.

Memorial service was February 23,   at Miller Funeral Chapel with Rev. Jerry Key and Rev. Billy Moore officiating. Burial will be at a later date in Moravian Falls Cemetery. Memorials may be made to the American Lung Association, PO Box 27985, Raleigh, NC 27611. Miller Funeral Service is in charge of the arrangements.

 Jesse Adams, 95

Jesse "Howard" Adams, age 95, of McGrady, passed away Wednesday, February 19, 2020 at his home. Howard was born May 2, 1924 in Newhall, West Virginia to Jonah and Bertha Wagoner Adams. He was a World War II Army Veteran, where he received the Eame Service Medal with 3 Bronze Service Stars, Good Conduct Medal, World War II Victory Medal, and Distinguished Unit Badge. He was proud to serve his country. Mr. Adams was a craftsman with woodworking. He enjoyed fishing, gardening, feeding the birds and flowers. He loved his family and his dogs. Howard was preceded in death by his parents; his son, James Glenn Adams; several brothers and sisters.

Surviving are his wife, Martha Shew Adams of the home; sons, Howard Junior Adams of McGrady, Ronnie Lee Adams and spouse Traci of Crumpler; daughters, Debra Call of McGrady, Diane Holloway and spouse Ervin of Ronda; seven grandchildren; six great grandchildren; and two great great grandchildren.

Funeral service was February 22,  at Miller Funeral Chapel with Rev. Sammy Taylor and Rev. Billy Shepherd officiating. Burial with military honors by Veterans of Foreign Wars Honor Guard Post 1142  followed in Mountlawn Memorial Park. The family will receive friends at Miller Funeral Service from 6:00 until 8:00 Friday night. Flowers will be accepted. Miller Funeral Service is in charge of the arrangements.  

Roger Petty, 59

Mr. Roger Dale Petty, age 59 of Moravian Falls passed away Tuesday, February 18, 2020 at Wake Forest Baptist-Wilkes Medical Center.

A Service to Honor His Life was February 23,   at Antioch Primitive Baptist Church in Sparta with Brother Hugh Miller officiating. Mr. Petty was born June 25, 1960 in Alleghany County to Juanita Petty Irwin.  Roger was the 1995 class valedictorian in the first Paramedic Class offered at Wilkes Community College.  He started his career at Wilkes EMS and then after several years ended his career as a cardiac catheterization technician at Watauga Medical Center in Boone.  He retired from the Wilkes County Rescue Squad in December 2016 with 38 years of service.

He was preceded in death by his step-father; Eugene Phipps Irwin and a sister; Lisa Edwards.

Mr. Petty is survived by his wife; Annette Hutchens Petty of the home, three daughters; Tara Petty Shore and husband Andy of Wilkesboro, Amanda Petty of Las Vegas, NV, Taylor Petty Johnson and husband Michael of Moravian Falls and one son; Logan Petty of the home, five grandchildren; Brett Shore, Nicolas Zeildon, Isabelle Petty, Isaac Petty and Madison Johnson, one brother; Bobby Edwards and wife Denise of Browns Summit and two step-brothers and their spouses; Mark Irwin and Kate of Mouth of Wilson, VA and Phillip Irwin and Chris of Raleigh.

Flowers will be accepted or memorials may be made to Wilkes Ministry of H.O.P.E., 514 Elkin Highway, North Wilkesboro, NC 28659.

 Peggy Day, 86

Mrs. Peggy Creasman Day, age 86 of North Wilkesboro passed away Tuesday, February 18, 2020 at Wilkes Sr. Village, on what would have been her and Frank's 64th wedding anniversary.  Peggy has relocated yet once again, this time to her eternal home in heaven to be with her Lord and her childhood sweetheart.  

Funeral Services were February 22, at Reins-Sturdivant Chapel with Dr. Bert Young and Dr. Dean Simpson officiating.  Entombment was in Scenic Memorials Gardens Mausoleum.  

Mrs. Day was born April 8, 1933 in Davidson County to Roy L and Pauline Kindley Creasman. She was a member of the First Baptist Church where she was in the Euzelian Sunday School class.  

When Peggy was a teenager she worked for Belk's and Penny's on holidays and weekends.  She graduated from North Wilkesboro High School in 1952 and attended Woman's College in Greensboro (now U.N.C Greensboro) and worked as a secretary in North Wilkesboro at Wilkes Auto Sales from 1953 until 1955 and she also worked at Modern Globe.  

Having met while sledding in the eighth grade, Frank and Peggy quickly became an item; they were inseparable for nearly 60 years. She married the love of her life, Frank Day, in 1956. Peggy did everything with Frank, until he predeceased her nearly a decade ago.  After she married Frank she became a mother and homemaker. Then she went back to work at Nancy King Textiles.  

Nearly thirty years ago, Frank and Peggy Day took the empty Rose's building, once the retail hub of the Wilkesboro's, and turned it into a Victorian themed mini-mall. It was their hangout and a retirement passion after many decades of manufacturing. The Melody Square Mall became an active second hub of the downtown from its inception.  

In the wake of Frank's death, Peggy kept the Mall and her retail store going for many years. For her, the mall and the store were so much more than just a business. Frank and Peggy helped dozens of businesses get their start inside this Victorian village. Most of these new business owners, and their regular customer, became like family to them.  

Likewise, they also enjoyed seeing friends and acquaintances drop in.  It was like the venerable country store where folks came for more than merely shopping and eating.  Many pulled up on a bench to talk, or just sit and watch people go by. Others used the pleasant space to walk laps around the corridors. The mall has changed hands. And now, Peggy has moved on to sled once again with the love of her life.

She loved the Lord, her church and her family with all her heart. She loved and was loved by many friends.  

In addition to her parents she was preceded in death by her husband; Frank G. Day.

She is survived by a daughter; Melody Lynn Rasmussen and husband Gerald of Wilmington, NC and a son; Tim Day and wife Diana of Marietta, GA, four grandchildren; Davis Day, Cameron Day and wife Emily, Alexander Lee Rasmussen and wife Shaina, Nicholas Paul Rasmussen and three step-grandchildren; Joanna Toso, Grace Toso and Jared Toso.

In lieu of flowers, memorials may be made to Helping Hands Ministries, POB 5037 Statesville NC, 28687, or http://www.hhmworldmissions.com/ or to Samartians Purse, PO Box 3000, Boone, NC 28607.

Carol Kilby, 80

Mrs. Carol Brown Kilby, age 80 of North Wilkesboro passed away Tuesday, February 18, 2020 at her home.

Funeral services were February 21,   at Mtn. Valley Baptist Church with Rev. Scott Church and Rev. Glenn Dancy, III officiating.  Burial was in the church cemetery.  church.

Mrs. Kilby was born October 2, 1939 in Wilkes County to Roby Hobert and Fannie Isado Vannoy Brown.  She was a member of Mtn. Valley Baptist Church.  

In addition to her parents, she was preceded in death by her husband; Maurice Kilby.

She is survived by three daughters; Sandra Lambert and husband Allen, Maurica Kilby, Gail Smith and husband Keith all of North Wilkesboro and one son; Alan Kilby and wife Terri of North Wilkesboro, eight grandchildren; Daniel Lambert, David Kilby, Sydney Culler, Grayson Hart, Jaren Smith, Braden Smith, Avery Hart and Seth Culler and four great grandchildren; Baylee Kilby, Lucas Lambert, Kailee Lambert and Jason Kilby, five sisters and one brother.

Flowers will be accepted or memorials may be made to Mount Valley Baptist Church Building Fund, c/o Bobbie Witherspoon, 1420 Cartpath Road, North Wilkesboro, NC 28659.

 Janie Greenwood, 69

Mrs. Janie Childress Greenwood, age 69 of Ronda passed away Sunday, February 16, 2020 at Woltz Hospice Home in Dobson.

Funeral services were February 20,   at Reins-Sturdivant Chapel with Pastor Bert Mathis officiating.  Burial will be in Pleasant Grove Baptist Church Cemetery.  

Mrs. Greenwood was born April 5, 1950 in Iredell County to Lee and Annie Ball Childress.  She was a member of Cherry Grove Baptist Church and she loved corvettes and she loved to travel.

In addition to her parents she was preceded in death by a brother; John Childress.

She is survived by her husband; Alan Greenwood of the home, three sisters; Barbara Sebastian of North Wilkesboro, Merlene Anderson of Cricket and Pat Royall of North Wilkesboro, five brothers; Larry Childress and wife Joyce of Taylorsville, Wayne Childress and wife Judy of Millers Creek, Bill Childress of Wilkesboro, Dennis Childress and wife Dorothy of Ronda and Kim Childress of Hays.

Flowers will be accepted.

 Paul Marley,Sr. 92

Paul Marley, 92 passed away peacefully on February 15, 2020 at his home in Wilkesboro, NC

surrounded by loved ones.  Born in West Jefferson, NC on October 9, 1927 to Coy B Marley and Virginia M Dunn Marley.

 Paul served two terms in the United States Army from May 14, 1946 until April 12, 1947.  

He was inducted near the end of World War II and was stationed at Ft. Sam Houston, Texas where he served in the Medical Corp and later was a Clerk General in the mail room.   Later he was called back to duty in January 24, 1951 for the Korean War and was stationed at Ft. Jackson, South  Carolina. His main duty was processing new recruits, many of the boys were from Wilkes County coming through the lines that later were stationed at other bases for training.

Paul worked for the North Carolina Department of Agriculture as a Poultry Inspector for 40 years before retiring.   He was a member of the Rotary Club and helped them start an annual fundraising horse shows and served as show chairman for many years.  Also, he coached the girls' softball team that the Rotary Club sponsored. He enjoyed fishing, hunting, raising Beagles with his father, music and always had a good joke or story to tell.  After retiring Paul work with Wilkes County Habitat for Humanity raising money and building homes. Also, he traveled with his daughter, Teresa to dog shows all over the United States and a large part of Canada.   Enjoyed spending winters in Florida with his son, Cecil and his wife. Once asked about his children all living so far from Wilkesboro, he answered " If I had known they would all move to great places to visit, I would have had more kids"

He is survived by his wife of 65 years Peggy (Bumgarner), his sister Charlotte Edmiston (George) of Ferguson, his daughter Teresa Marley (Charles Jones) of Indian Wells, California, his son Paul Cecil Marley, Jr (Jennifer Marley) of Palm Bay, Florida, grandson George Bynum of Hudson, NC along with nephews, nieces and countless friends.    He was preceded in death by his parents, bothers Ralph Vernon Marley and James Turner Marley, sisters Pauline Marley and Annie Marley-Funkhouser and daughter Paula Bynum.

The family would like to thank all Paul's wonderful caregivers, staff at Rose Glenn and Wake Forest Care at Home Hospice.  In lieu of flowers, the family request that memorial contributions be made to Parkinson's Foundation at www.parkinson.org, phone 800-473-4636 or  200  SE 1st Street, Suite 800, Miami, FL 33131.

Jackie Gayles, 84

Pastor Jackie Bejerano Gayles, age 84 of Wilkesboro, passed away Friday, February 14. 2020 at University Place Nursing and Rehabilitation Center in Charlotte.

Funeral services will be held 2:00 pm, Saturday, February 22, 2020 at Mt. Carmel TPC Church in Harmony, NC with Bishop Jerome Temoney officiating. Burial will be in the church Cemetery. The family will receive friends at Mt. Carmel TPC from 1:00 until 2:00 pm on Saturday prior to the service.

Mr. Gayles was born April 29, 1935 in New  York to Daisy Gayles. He was a member at Seventh Day Adventist in Wilkesboro. He was employed at Bec Car Printing as a Printer retiring after twenty five years. He loved his family and teaching the word of God. His passions were hunting and reading.

In addition to his mother he was preceded in death by a daughter Cecilia Scott and a son Kim Gayles.

He is survived by his wife JoAnn Gayles of Wilkesboro, a daughter Elena Gayles of Florida; three sons, Marc Misher and wife, April of Huntersville; Don Vito Gayles and wife, Tony of Richmond, VA; Keith Gayles of New York; twelve grandchildren and eleven great grandchildren; a sister Elena Simmons of California; and a brother, Dr. Carlos Gayles M.D. and wife Cynthia of Rochester, MI.

Flowers will be accepted or memorials to the Donor's choice.

Online condolences may be made at www.reinssturdivant.com

[mayansgirl613]

A Charming Life

Special thanks to @tessxomarie and @alievans007 for helping me out and reading this and encouraging me to post this!

Charlie Telford and Tara Delaney were cousins that lived a few hours from each other. Charlie had met Opie Winston and Jax Teller when they were all 5 years old but was especially close to Opie. You could say they were the best of friends. To the point that Opie declared he was going to marry her one day. He even punched Jax when they were 10 when he pushed her down on the playground.

When they were 16, Tara moved to Charming which was around the time Jax was really starting to discover girls in school. Charlie was excited to have another girl to hang out with outside the boys. Opie on the other hand, not so much. He was just a bit jealous. He was afraid he was going to lose his best friend. His girlfriend. He had heard a lot about her cousin and he felt she was going to be a bad influence on her. Little did he know that it wasn’t Charlie that he was going to have to worry about.

Opie looks at Charlie, “Babe, you look like you’re looking for something?” “Yeah? My cousin should be coming in for her first day today” she says as they sit on the front steps of the high school. It is the first day of their junior year. Jax walks up then. “Hey guys. What’s up?”  “Just waiting for her cousin to show up for her first day apparently” Opie states. “Oh really?” Jax surmises curiously. He leans against the wall to wait.  A few minutes later, Tara shows up and parks getting out of her car wearing a pair of ripped up jeans and tank top and matching jean jacket and grabs a duffel bag and backpack out and heads to the front of the school with her headphones in listening to music before she realizes her cousin is there with 2 guys. One who is pretty much glaring at her like she’s invading his world and the other who is checking her out like she’s a gift to him. Her cousin stands up and waves at her to get her attention elbowing the one glaring. “Tara. Hey” “Hey Charlie. So this is Charming huh?” “Yeah it is” She shrugs. “This is one here is Opie” She gestures to the one who is still glaring at her that is tall and shaggy looking with a beard. “And that one is Jax” She gestures to the other one who is blatantly checking her out like a gift who has long blond hair and also has a beard. “This is my cousin Tara from San Diego.” Opie grudgingly says “Hello” And then there is Jax, “Hey darlin, do you need an escort to your classes because I’ll gladly show you around?” He flashes a flirtatious smile. Opie rolls his eyes then gets up taking her hand. “ You ready to go babe?” she looks at him. “Uh yeah, let’s go.” He walks her away and as they do, she looks back, “I’ll see you at lunchtime Tara” “Ok Charlie.” Tara replies.

Time jump to a few months later

So Tara and Jax have now been dating for a few months and have pretty much inseparable except on the occasion, when the boys hang out and the girls get together or when they all hang out together. Opie still pretty much thinks Tara is a bad influence to an extent. But he doesn’t push the issue as it causes fights with Charlie and with Jax.

Tara is walking to class when she feels a hand brush her ass and she turns with a smile thinking its Jax only to find out it’s a guy she doesn’t recognize and her smile immediately fades and she jumps away from him. Ryan smiles at her lecherously. “Hey baby what’s wrong? Thought you liked guys touching you like that?” “Not ones I don’t know or not my boyfriend, back off” she replies. “ Aww don’t be like that, we can be friends or more…” He takes a step towards her making her back into the lockers with a bang. She looks around seeing the hallway is empty since the bell rang. “ Get away from me asshole.” “ Or what? No one is around to help or hear you.” He runs his hands over her shoulders and arms to her hips and leans in close to her neck making her squirm uncomfortably and she looks around looking for help. Then she finally thinks and raises her leg and knees him right in the crotch hard causing him to collapse in pain yelping cursing her out calling out, “You bitch! I’m gonna fucking get you for that! Just you wait and fucking see you cunt!” She takes off running down the hallway not watching where she is going until she runs headfirst right into the one person she needs to see, the one who would always protect her. Jax. “Woah, woah, Darlin! What happened?” He pulls her into his arms and forces her to look at him when he sees her tear stained face. She tells him what happened, he gets angry. “Fucking piece of shit. We’re cutting the rest of the day. Come on.” He walks her out sending a text to Opie just stating they were leaving for the day and would explain later.

Meanwhile, Dean Winchester was starting his first day at the school and starting to cause jealousy for Opie Winston and Charlie Telford. And boy was it a doozy. Opie hated him with a passion and had no clue why. He felt the he was going to get in between him and Charlie.  And Dean liked Charlie since she was nice to him from the minute he got there. Opie on the other hand didn’t like him one single bit. He had no idea why. But he didn’t care. He was loving life.  

Dean walked over to Charlie and sat down right next to her at lunch time. “Hey thanks for helping me out today. I appreciate it.” “Oh no problem Dean.” She smiles at him as Opie grunts eating his sandwich. Dean looks at him and smirks. “Did I say something wrong?” “No he’s always like that.” She elbows Opie and whispers, “Quit it will you?” “I’m not doing anything” He responds.

Opie finally has enough and gets up and walks away muttering to himself, “Fucking people always trying to get in-between us. She’s going to leave me for this good guy. She’s not gonna want the club life with me…” Meanwhile Jax took Tara to her favorite spot to decompress, a secluded spot under pier on the beach.  He walked her to her regular spot and put down a blanket and sat down with her against his chest and held her close and didn’t push her to speak. He didn’t have to. He knew it would come in her own time. After a while, she finally broke down and spoke. “What drives someone to be like that? Do you realize he’s only going to try again? What the fuck do I do then?” She rambles. “I don’t know what drives them but I do know that I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.” He responds with such vehemence that she looks at him then settles against him knowing he means it.

So what do you think will happen next for the foursome? Will Dean cause trouble for Opie and Charlie? Will Jax handle Ryan in Tara’s honor? Let me know in general what you think of my first story!

[smallcollegebasketball]

My Tribute to Kyle Mangas

I purposely waited until Kyle Mangas’ career at Indiana Wesleyan was completed to write this blog post.  Now that it’s completed, here goes…..

Kyle Mangas is from Warsaw, IN, and he’s the son of Tim and Ann Mangas, and the younger brother of Jake Mangas.  Tim was a 1,000-point scorer in high school, and Ann led her high school team to the state championship game.  Jake was a forward on the Warsaw High School basketball team, the quarterback on the football team and was the Valedictorian of his class.  

As a senior at Warsaw in 2016-17, Kyle averaged 22.6 points, 5.6 rebounds and 2.7 assists per game to earn Indiana All-Star honors as he led the Tigers to the regional final.  He averaged 19.4 points per game as a junior on a team that advanced to the Class 4A north semistate. He scored 1,450 career points at Warsaw, leading the Tigers to a 61-17 record in his three seasons as a starter.  Remarkably, however, he wasn’t heavily recruited…..with the notable exception of Indiana Wesleyan, who had started recruiting him as a freshman in high school.  Mangas committed to IWU before his senior season.

He chose IWU in part because of its tremendous basketball program…and in part because they recruited him for so long and he developed a strong relationship with the coaches….and, in great part, because it was the right “fit”. In this case, the right “fit” meant the IAM3rd culture that had been created at IWU by Coach Greg Tonagel.  In short, this culture meant God first, others second and yourself third.  If you want to be first, you first need to learn to be third.  It’s a bit counter-culture in today’s society.  This resonated with Kyle, and he embraced the challenges of growing within this culture.

…………

So, where to start with the collegiate career of Kyle Mangas…..

I don’t like to “compare”.  It’s natural to try to compare his collegiate career with some of the all-time greats in the NAIA, such as Dick Barnett (Tennesse A&I – now Tennessee State), Travis Grant & Elmore Smith (Kentucky State), Philip Hutcheson & John Pierce (David Lipscomb), Lucious Jackson (Texas Pan American), Bob Love (Southern), Al Tucker (Oklahoma Baptist), Bob Hopkins and Willis Reed (Grambling), Scottie Pippen (Central Arkansas), M.L. Carr & Lloyd (World B) Free (Guilford), Eric Kline (Northern State) and so many others.  It’s easy to start talking about some of the all-time greats within all of small college basketball, such as Earl “The Pearl” Monroe (Winston-Salem State), Jerry Sloan (Evansville), Walt Frazier (Southern Illinois), Jack Sikma (Illinois Wesleyan), George Tinsley (Kentucky Wesleyan), John Rinka (Kenyon), John Smith (Winona State), Phil Jackson (North Dakota), and so many more. Yet, as mentioned above, I don’t like to “compare”.  As President Theodore Roosevelt said, “Comparison is the thief of joy.”  I want to enjoy and appreciate what I just witnessed with the career of Kyle Mangas.  As his career, progressed, I think that people that followed closely began to realize that we were watching something special.  So let’s not compare.  Let’s just enjoy and appreciate.

…………

Before he ever played a game at Indiana Wesleyan, the coaches realized that Kyle was the best player on the team….and it was a really good team (REALLY good).  During his freshman year, he led the Wildcats to a 31-7 record, the Crossroads League regular season AND tournament titles AND the NAIA Division II National Championship. In the National Championship game, Kyle went for 23 points, 4 rebounds and 3 assists and was named as the tournament’s Most Outstanding Player.  For the season, he scored 818 points and averaged 21.5 ppg, 5.2 rpg, 2.9 apg and had 42 steals, while shooting 52.6% fg and 79.5% ft.  He was named Crossroads League Player of the Year and First Team NAIA Division II All American.

As a sophomore, IWU went 30-6 and won the Crossroads League regular season AND tournament titles, and reached the NAIA Division II National Quarterfinals.  Kyle scored 801 points and averaged 23.6 ppg, 5.0 rpg, 3.8 apg and had 48 steals, while shooting 56.5% fg and 75.5% ft.  He was named Crossroads League Player of the Year and First Team NAIA Division II All American.

As a junior, IWU went 29-4 and won the Crossroads League regular season AND tournament titles.  The team was really rolling as the headed into the NAIA Division II Tournament, as they had just won their three conference tournament games by 32, 27 and 32 points, respectively.  Shortly after they arrived in Sioux Falls, SD, to play their opening round game at the Pentagon, the tournament was cancelled due to COVID-19.  This was heart-wrenching for a team that was really talented, and was playing so well.  Kyle continued to get better and better, and he scored 860 points and averaged 26.9 ppg,  6.4 rpg, 4.2 apg and had 59 steals, while shooting 55.5% fg and 83.4% ft.  He was named Crossroads League Player of the Year, First Team NAIA Division II All American, NAIA Division II National Player of the Year and the winner of the Bevo Francis Award.  

As a senior this past season, the NAIA had combined the divisions, thus meaning that their was now going to be roughly double the number of teams competing for a single NAIA National Championship, and there would be roughly twice as many players vying for award and National recognition.  IWU had a dominating regular season, starting off 17-0 and finishing the regular season with a 28-1 record, spending most of the season ranked #1 in the NAIA.  I had the privilege of attending their final regular season game, which was a home game against Mount Vernon Nazarene.  MVNU is a good, solid, well-coached team, yet IWU was clicking, and the Wildcats were phenomenal in a 117-78 win --- yes, a 39-point win against a good team.  Kyle was fantastic, going for 40 points and 7 assists in 31 minutes.  He went 13-22 fg (including 7-12 from the 3-point line) and 7-7 ft.  Just a spectacular performance!  …..oh, and by the way, it was the 50th consecutive home win for Indiana Wesleyan.  50 straight!  Remarkable!

The Wildcats won the Crossroads League regular season once again, yet they were defeated by St. Francis (IN) in the conference tournament. In their first-round game of the NAIA Tournament – which was the final home game of Kyle’s career at Indiana Wesleyan – the Wildcats defeated IU-South Bend, 95-76.  Kyle went for 30 points, 7 rebounds, 6 assists, 4 steals and 2 blocks. He only missed 6 shots total (fg’s & ft’s combined) in scoring 30 points.

#1 ranked Indiana Wesleyan moved on to the round of 16 in the NAIA Tournament at historic Municipal Auditorium in Kansas City, where they faced conference foe, Bethel (IN).  They had defeated Bethel by 3 early in the season, and then by 20 later in the season.  In short, Bethel played great on the big stage and pulled off the huge win over Indiana Wesleyan, 83-77.  In Kyle’s four-year career, Indiana Wesleyan was 9-0 against Bethel prior to the game in the NAIA Tournament, which turned out to be the final game in Kyle’s storied career at Indiana Wesleyan.  He finished with 22 points, 8 rebounds and 6 assists in his final game.

During his senior year, Kyle scored 974 points and averaged 29.5 ppg, 7.4 rpg, 5.1 apg and had 62 steals, while shooting 60.3% fg and 84.9% ft. He was named Crossroads League Player of the Year, NAIA First Team All American and the NAIA National Player of the Year for the second consecutive season.  (The Bevo Francis Award was not presented in 2021 due to COVID-19).

For his four-year career at Indiana Wesleyan, Kyle led the Wildcats to a 120-20 record, thus winning 100 games MORE than they lost in a four-year span. Kyle was named Crossroads League Player of the Year AND First Team NAIA All American all four seasons.  He was named NAIA National Player of the Year in back-to-back seasons, and won the Bevo Francis Award.  He finished as the second all-time leading collegiate scorer in the history of Indiana Kyle finished with 3,453 points, 818 rebounds, 544 assists, 211 steals and 65 blocks.  He shot 56.3% fg and 81.2% ft.  As such, Kyle Mangas is the most decorated NAIA Player of this generation.  

…………

Above are the numbers and awards, which are ridiculously impressive. But Kyle Mangas is so much more than statistics and awards.  When you watch him play, you’ll realize that he doesn’t play for numbers.  He’s remarkably unselfish.  There was a game this season where IWU was up by 50 points (against Goshen), and Kyle wanted to make sure that other players got a chance to play.  Coach Tonagel tried to put a sub in for Kyle, yet other players realized that Kyle was one rebound away from a triple-double.  As the players tried to let the coach know about the impending triple-double, Kyle heard about this, and quickly tried to get the sub into the game.  It was more important to him that his teammates get a chance to play than for him to get a triple-double.  He finished with 31 minutes of playing time and 20 points, 11 assists and 9 rebounds (along with 3 steals).  

IAM3rd in action:  God first. Others second.  Yourself third.

……….

Before his senior season started, Kyle Mangas was already the school’s all-time leading scorer.  In a neutral-site game played at Bowling Green High School (KY) against Faulkner, Kyle surpassed the 3,000-point milestone, and surpassed Larry Bird to move into second place on the career scoring list among the top collegiate scorers in the state of Indiana.  The next game was played at Huntington, the alma mater of Steve Platt.  Platt – who passed away recently – is the state’s all-time leading scorer with 3,700 career points.  Playing in Platt Arena in the game after Kyle moved into second place on the state’s career scoring list, Kyle went for 43 and only missed a total of 6 shots (between field goals and free throws, combined).  

How about the game when Kyle set the school’s individual game scoring record by going for 51 points against Oakland City?  He MADE 21 field goals – including 7 3’s – and added 6 rebounds and 5 assists.  How about the game against a really talented St. Francis (IN) team when he went for 35 points, 13 rebounds 6 assists and 6 blocks?  How about the game against Goshen on December 2, when he played just 28 minutes in a lopsided win, going 15-16 from the field for 30 points….and then followed that game with a 12-15 performance (and 2-2 from the free throw line) in a win against Taylor?  Therefore, in back-to-back games he went a combined 27-31 from the field and 2-2 from the free throw line in two wins.  Just remarkable.

……….

It’s easy to get lost in the numbers, the statistics.  They’re pretty astonishing and impressive.

I’ve watched Indiana Wesleyan play a lot over the last several years.  By “a lot”, I mean that I only missed 3-5 games this whole season, and have probably watched an additional 25-40 games over Kyle’s first three seasons at IWU. I’ve watch them play A LOT.

Here are a few lines that I’ve used to try to describe Kyle Mangas to people:

“If you want to learn how to play this game, watch Kyle Mangas.”

“Watching Kyle Mangas is like watching a basketball clinic.

“Since he’s from Indiana, I think it’s like watching the fictional ‘Jimmy Chitwood’ from Hoosiers.”

For me, as a former coach and basketball junkie, it’s just a pleasure and joy to watch Kyle Mangas play.  When people talk about “playing the game the right way,” you can visualize Kyle Mangas. He dives after loose balls, takes charges, and does the “little things” so consistently that, well….coaches know that these really aren’t “little things”.  They are the things that help you win basketball games.  He pass fakes and shot fakes.  With the ball, he changes directions and changes speed.  Watch him without the ball…..watch how he uses screens, curls, fades, goes back door. Watch how he draws fouls – and finishes.  Watch how he passes and watch how he gets put-backs and loose balls.

There are a couple of plays that I’m thinking about, from his junior season.  The first one happened so quickly, so I’m glad that they showed it on replay as well. Kyle was posting up on the right block, and the ball was lobbed to him. The double-team came from the top, right away. He caught the ball and immediately pass-faked around the defender’s waist, along the baseline.  The defender turned around to see the pass, while Kyle layed the ball in the basket for an uncontested layup.  It looked so simple, so easy.  Yet with a double-team coming, he had the instincts to give such a quick and effective pass fake that he ended up with an uncontested layup.

The other play that is popping to my head (among so, so many) is the time when he got a steal around half court.  He had an uncontested dunk ahead of him.  Yet 7’0” Seth Maxwell was also running with him, for a 2 on 0 fast break. Kyle pitched the ball back to Seth for the dunk.  Again, pretty simple play.  Simple yes, but Kyle was on the verge of becoming the school’s all-time leading scorer and had a wide open dunk, yet passed it up to give his teammate the dunk. While it had been obvious previously, I was just reminded that Kyle truly doesn’t care who scores.  It is genuinely NOT about statistics for Kyle.

Again, IAM3rd in action.  God first. Others second. Yourself third.

……….

Humble and kind.  These words are used over and over about Kyle Mangas.  His teammates told me that Kyle meets new students on campus, and they often walk away having no idea that he plays basketball.  He doesn’t like to talk about himself.  He’s remarkably humble.

Before I met Kyle, I was told: “You should meet his parents, and you’ll understand.”  I met Tim and Ann Mangas, and I understand.  Humble. Kind.  Intelligent.  They smile easily, and they are grateful.  They are so proud of Kyle, and they feel fortunate that they all found Indiana Wesleyan, Coach Greg Tonagel and the IAM3rd culture.  They’ve watched their son evolve as a person.  

Tim and Ann both thought that Kyle would have a good career at Indiana Wesleyan.  That said, they didn’t expect THIS….. THIS is one of the most historic careers in NAIA history.  THIS is the impact of the IAM3rd culture on their son.  THIS is watching their son, who has a 4.0 grade point average, enter the final stages of his degree in Finance. THIS is watching the evolution of their son from a quiet, shy boy into a strong man of confidence and faith.  When Ann talks about her pride in her son, she gets emotional.  What a ride it’s been…..  

………

On Senior Day, here’s what Coach Greg Tonagel had to say about Kyle Mangas:

“Coaches, fans, and teammates have been able to witness firsthand one of the great NAIA basketball players of all time during these past four years. However, what makes Kyle special goes far beyond what he has done on the court. The humility and grace that he has led with is unmatched. From being asked to be a vocal leader as a freshman to becoming the standard for what an IAM3 leader looks like within the basketball program, he has accepted every challenge head on. He is the standard for mental toughness, as is evident by his unflappable demeanor, competitive nature, and his countless game-winning heroics. To the outside world, he's an incredible basketball player. To all of us who know him – he is that and a whole lot more. He's Mango – a teammate, a friend, a competitor, and a servant leader who has remained humble, fearless, authentic, and gracious throughout his decorated career.”

……….

When we presented the Bevo Francis Award to Kyle, Coach Greg Tonagel spoke about Kyle….

He talked about how Kyle has worked on his fundamentals, and the repetition of those fundamentals until they became habits, and then those habits and skills became instinctive.  He talked about his own sons, and how they began to do “up-and-unders” and the “Mikan drill”.  When they asked about “why” they were doing these drills, Greg Tonagel (Dad) would tell them, “because Kyle Mangas does ‘up-and-unders’ and the ‘Mikan drill’”.  And then the boys would dutifully continue with the drills, because Kyle Mangas does those drills.

Here are a few quotes that stand out to me:

“Kyle has proven to us all that humility is actually a form of strength.”

“I doubt that there has ever been a player that has scored 3,000 points in his career without ever once showing up his opponent in any way.”

“His teammates would tell you that, in his senior year, he’s become the ultimate leader.  He’s invested into the lives of his teammates.  He has become a spiritual leader.  Every day, he’s pouring into young players, not only about what it means to be a great basketball player, but what it means to be a follower of Christ. To me, that’s the ultimate compliment and the ultimate form of leadership.”

………

This past Summer (of 2020), Kyle had an internship that was closer to Indiana Wesleyan than to Warsaw, so he stayed with Coach Greg Tonagel, his wife (Amy) and their six children.  The kids would wait by the door for Kyle to come home from his internship, so that they could go outside to play basketball with Kyle Mangas.  The neighborhood kids would come over, and there would be Kyle Mangas playing basketball with the neighborhood kids.  You can picture the scene, and you know that, in 5, 10 and 20 years from now, those kids will grow up telling the stories of those days when they played basketball with Kyle Mangas.  

While those kids can dream of being the next Kyle Mangas the basketball player, the dream for the parents of those kids should be for their kids grow up to be like Kyle Mangas the human being.

………

Greg Tonagel finished his thoughts about Kyle Mangas during the presentation of the Bevo Francis Award with these words:  “Somebody, someday, is going to put on the next Kyle Mangas uniform and carry on Kyle���s legacy.  I doubt that they will pass all of these accolades.  I doubt that they will pass these numbers.  But they are going to carry on that legacy of what it means to be a Christ-followers that loves the game of basketball and doesn’t play for himself, and embodies what we call the IAM3rd culture: God first.  Others second.  Yourself third.  If young people will continue to do that, they will have carried on the legacy of Kyle Mangas.”

……….

I’ve been watching this game for a long time now.  I coached for eight seasons, collegiately:  Four as an assistant coach and four as a Head Coach.  I’ve served on the NCAA Division II National Basketball Committee (while I was an NCAA Division II Athletic Director) and served as the Director of the NAIA’s Division I Men’s Basketball Championship.  I’ve been watching small college basketball closely for 25+ years.  I don’t like to use the term “best”, as this implies a comparison.  As noted towards the beginning of this post, I don’t like to “compare”, as “comparison is the thief of joy.”  I’ll say this about Kyle Mangas:  He’s the most consistently effective and efficient NAIA player that I’ve ever seen. It’s truly been a pleasure and a joy to watch him play.  

Thanks for the memories, Kyle…..and thank you for being a humble role model for us all.

...........

Enjoy the senior year highlights of Kyle Mangas, as well as photos of Kyle in action:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G0lkmBnajTU&t=182s

[lainaraquel]

Heart Like Yours

On her first day of U.A. Momo receives a strange letter from herself ten years in the future. She doesn’t think this letter could be real until the predictions are so accurate she can’t overlook them. Her 25-year-old self is asking her to help shape a better future and it starts with saving a hostile classmate from himself. 

 Based very loosely on the series Orange. 

Series: Boku No Hero Academia 

Chapter 01: Letter 01: The beginning of everything

Pairing: Bakumomo, Bakugou x Yaoyorozu. Slight Todomomo.

Rating: M (canon-divergent)

Word Count: 3,778  

AO3: x

A/N: I hope you like this! Thank you so much to @emeraldwaves for always encouraging me and pushing me to write this fic! I dedicate this first chapter to her. You can also find me at @creatiwrites  

The sun peeked in through her curtains gently waking the dark-haired girl from her slumber. There was nothing like a proper nights rest before her first day at the esteemed U.A. Even for a recommendation student like herself she couldn't shake the nerves that came over her. She would be training to become a pro-hero. It was her dream to use her quirk to help others and become a top hero. Everyone in her family was counting on her to keep the honor of the Yaoyorozu name and show the world what she was made of. She had been training extremely hard her whole life for this moment.

 She was quick to get ready making sure that the skirt of her uniform was perfectly pleated and her tie straight and tucked under the grey jacket. Her bag was packed with everything that she might need, new school supplies, water, snacks, and her notes that would help her until she got the costume that she had requested. Perfect, now she just needed to fix her hair and she would be ready for the day. Wearing it down was an option, but probably not a smart one. A school like U.A. didn't just do a presentation and then send everyone on their way. It wasn't like a regular high school and she had to be prepared.

 It made much more sense to wear her hair up and to keep it out of her face. She walked over to her vanity, surprised to see a present on laying there. It was wrapped in a light blue wrapping paper with a lavender bow tied around the box. The wrapping paper perfectly snug and not one wrinkle was present on the paper. She looked at the card that was snug underneath the ribbon. It had her name written on it. It would be just like her parents to leave some type of gift for her to celebrate her first day. Even though they could be strict with her training-- they did it because they wanted her to succeed. She glanced at the time placing the box off to the side. She had to finish getting ready and could not afford to be late or even on time. She had to set an example for her fellow classmates by arriving early.

 Momo tried her hair in several different styles. Ranging from a bun to a loose braid, before deciding that just up in a high ponytail would be the best. It was plain, but she didn't need to look dolled up to be a hero and that was the important thing. She grabbed her school bag ready to walk out the door when out of the corner of her eye she spotted the blue paper. Okay- just one second to open it so she could at least call her parents to tell them 'thank you' after school.

 She pulled gently on the lavender ribbon watching as it slowly cascaded down the side of the box. Her fingers eager to pull the lid off and see what it was that was inside. But first, the card. She pried it open and inside was just a little note that said

“Trust me and have a good first day.'

Her brows knitted together in confusion; What kind of message was that? It wasn't even signed with their names which was also extremely odd, but who else would have sent this gift? She put the card aside making a mental note to ask them about it later. That was when she saw it. It was a beautiful notebook that matched the same burgundy color of the costume she designed. It looked so sleek and almost different than the other ones she had. She wondered if perhaps they had it custom made for her. Her name was even embroidered on the cover of it in elegant script. She brought the notebook to her nose inhaling the scent of new pages. The smell of them never failed to make her heart swell. 

The sound of the horn honking shook her from her daze and she glanced at the clock."Ah!" she squealed, tossing the notebook and pen into her bag. She darted out of her room making her way towards the black Mercedes and apologizing to the driver for running behind.

 She could not afford to start off the year making a bad first impression.

The classroom was still empty when Yaoyorozu arrived and she sighed in relief. Good. Her classmates would know she was punctual and that they could depend on her. She found her seat all the way in the back as expected and began to get her things organized. She put her pen on the top corner of her desk, her eraser right next to it and a few spare pens should someone else have forgotten theirs. Finally, she put the burgundy notebook in the center of the desk. She was about to grab her book to read when a rather tall and stocky boy entered the room. 

"Ah! Yes, good morning fellow student!" he chimed hastily making his way toward her. "My name is Iida Tenya! I am from the Somei Private Academy and it is an honor to meet you."

 Before Momo even got the chance to say anything other students began to fall in. Soon the once quiet classroom was bustling with noise.Her fingers gently brushed along the edge of the notebook as she waited for the time to tick down. Maybe she could open up the page and start to organize her notes before class began. She pulled the little book open shocked to see that there was already writing it.

“Momo, turn the next page and don't let anyone see.”

It was scribbled in the center of the paper and her heart began to race. Why did this suddenly feel so ominous?

“Dear Yaomomo,

Are you nervous? Please, try not to be these are going to be the best years of your life.” 

A small smile crept onto her face upon reading that sentence, but the feeling didn’t last long as her eyes scanned the next set of words.

“I’m writing this letter to you from the future. It’s ten years from today on the dot.”

Ten years in the future?! Eh?!

“I know this seems completely impossible, but trust me, it is possible. And if I know you, which I do, you’re wracking your brain trying to figure out how-- but that isn’t the important part right now. In this notebook, I’m going to help you shape a better future. We have to change the choices you make in high school.”

April 5th:

The first day of term at U.A.

”The boy who introduced himself to you as Iida he will be arguing with another boy. His name is Bakugou. They’ll be arguing about Bakugou having his feet on the desk, but will get distracted by another boy with curly green hair. He’ll introduce himself as Midoriya. Remember the boy with the blonde hair. He sits in seat 17 and I need you to make sure that you become friends with him, but most importantly, I need you to change his heart.”

Momo’s eyes lifted from the letter, blinking, she needed a moment to process everything. How did the letter know what Iida had said to her or that he was going to come over here? Were her parents spying on her? Was this really her future self? Her head was spinning.

 “Don’t put your feet on the desk!” Iida scolded. 

“Huh?” the blonde smirked not moving his feet from their current position.

. “Don’t you think that’s rude to the U.A. upperclassmen and the people who made the desk?”

 “Nope. What junior high did you go to, you side character?” 

Well, he was rather crude, wasn’t he? Why would her future-self want her to pay attention to someone like him? That didn’t make any sense to her and it didn’t look like he was very friendly. So, how exactly was she supposed to become friends with him?

 Momo’s hands began to tremble as she watched the exchange between them.

 It was insanely accurate. 

This didn’t make any sense and she couldn’t read any more of this nonsense. It must have somehow been some prank. There was no way that she could be talking to herself from the future, could she? She shut the notebook deciding it wasn’t at all possible. 

 “Are we walking home together?” a familiar voice rang in her ears and Momo turned quickly on her heels to see Todoroki waiting for her outside of the classroom. He was a long time friend of hers. They both knew what it was like to grow up in the life of the wealthy and had become friends at the tender age of five. They were at an esteemed party being shown off by their parents and that night they became friends. There was a genuine understanding between them and Momo had never met anyone else who got it quite like he did. 

They didn’t see each other as often as they would’ve liked growing up. Their days had been filled with training-- but any time they were stuck at one of those events they could count on each other to be there. It had been nice to always have a friendly face to look forward to and even though he never really talked about what went on at home-- they were still there for each other. She wished she could do more for him, protect him somehow. It didn’t take much for her to figure out how terrible things were for him (and she didn’t just mean the fact that they had missed out on normal childhood things in favor of training). Sometimes looking at him made her heartache, but not with pity. She just wanted to ease his pain if she could.

 “Do you feel alright? You’re doing that thing where you mindlessly look into the distance…” he trailed. 

“Oh! Sorry, I’m fine, I was just thinking about something. But yes, we can walk home together,” she smiled softly securing her bag over her shoulder. He nodded and the two of them headed towards the gates of U.A.

 “You did a great job today Todoroki-san!” she complimented, a bounce in her step.

 “You placed first.”

 Momo couldn’t help but smile, her face growing a little bit warm. She knew it was his own way of saying that she had done a good job. “I know, but you still did well. Your quirk is really amazing.”

 “Bye Yaoyorozu-san!” they heard Ashido yell waving her arm with a big smile at them. “And you too Todoroki-san!” She was walking with the boy with red hair and Momo was pretty sure his name was Kirishima. Ashido had introduced herself to Momo during lunch. She had never encountered anyone so warm and inviting. It was a little strange, but she had been happy to make new friends on her first day there. All of the girls in her class seemed really nice now that she was thinking about it. 

The redhead turned and waved at the both of them now, cupping his hands around his mouth to yell. “Nice to meet you both today! Awesome quirks, guys! Totally manly. See ya tomorrow!” 

Momo waved back at them, though she was questioning how exactly her quirk was ‘manly’ and Todoroki just seemed a little taken aback by the whole exchange. New people weren’t exactly his thing.

 “Did you lose your manners, Todoroki-san?” she asked him in light gest.

 “No.” he answered his tone flat, but his cheeks were slightly tinted- she had caught that.

 “Come on, it’s getting late and I’m sure we both have lessons,” he spoke.

 “Right.”

 Later that evening Momo was trying to read, but couldn’t stop her mind from wandering to that notebook. It was tempting to consider opening it again-- but did she really want to get fooled by some prank? It must have been something planned by her class. No that wasn’t possible. They didn’t even know who she was until today, well most of them. There wasn’t any way for them to get into her room and most of them did not seem like the type to go along with any childish games. Plus why would they want to prank her? What would they get out of it? She was definitely overthinking this.

 She had to know what was in there. 

No, she should probably just throw it away.

 But what if it really was important?

 There is no way that it could be real!

Perhaps just a small peek.

 No, she had to be strong! 

“Oh for goodness sake just look at it!” she muttered to herself tossing her book off to the side. Momo opened the bag that was hanging off one of the chairs in her room. As she picked it up, it suddenly felt heavier than it did before. If this truly was from the future, why was it being trusted to her? She didn’t even know this boy, so why would this be something that she had to do? On the other hand, she was anything but reckless-- and so there must have been a good reason even if for the moment she couldn’t comprehend it.

 The burgundy bound notebook was becoming warm as she held it in her hands. She still wasn’t able to bring herself to open it quite yet. It was almost like reading a horror novel, curious to know more, but terrified to find out what lies within the text. Slowly she peeled open the cover to reveal the familiar writing. She reached over to grab a blank sheet of paper, penning the exact same words of the letter before her. They would probably look different and this whole debate would be completely over. It was preposterous to think that it could be identical- She stopped mid-thought holding the two papers next to each other. Her eyes narrowed scanning each piece carefully as if she would be able to spot at least one difference, but she couldn’t find any.

 “I guess I just have to read this,” she mumbled. It would be the only way to ease her troubled mind.

 Her finger guided her to where she had last left off and her face instantly flushed at the words she read.

“Now that you’re done with your handwriting analysis, will you just trust me? I know that’s weird to ask. This is a notebook that just showed up on your desk. But remember who it’s from.”

What harm could reading the first few pages do? 

She ate up every word as her future-self detailed exactly how the day went to-a-T.

 Okay. Today was a new day, she was going to walk up to him and they were going to be friends. Yep! She would make it happen, the future depended on it.

“I know he won’t be easy to get along with, but it’s imperative that you befriend him and help him change his ways.”

She entered the classroom early as always and waited. Perhaps she could strike up a conversation before class. Surprisingly he was never the last one in either. She thought someone with his demeanor would arrive to class late and without a care in the world. But it didn’t seem to be that way at all with him. Could they possibly bond over something like being on time to their classes? No that was stupid. He wasn’t someone like Iida who would pride himself on something like punctuality. That much she could tell about him already.

 He sat down at his desk three seats ahead of her and she stood to go speak to him. Her legs were moving before she could even really think about it. All she had to do was introduce herself and then the conversation would probably flow naturally from there, right? She could compliment him on his impressive scores in yesterday’s quirk assessment. He got third place which was pretty impressive! Yaoyorozu was sure he would be pretty happy about that.

 She inhaled a sharp breath and walked up to him. “Bakugou-san- I”.

 Before she could say anything else though her nerves got the better of her and she wasn’t exactly sure why. Maybe because he looked so intimidating and uninviting. His red eyes met her dark ones and his brows furrowed.

 “Yeah? What the fuck do you want? And who are you?” 

Luck was clearly on her side because she spotted a pen on the floor and quickly picked it up holding it out for him. “You dropped this.” 

“Tch.” He reached forward snatching the pen from her hand. 

“You’re welcome, Bakugou-san.” she huffed swiftly turning and heading back toward her desk.

 He really did have a rotten attitude and foul mouth. Would it have killed him to be cordial to her? 

Probably. 

The answer was probably.

 Later that day it was time for Heroics and All Might had them paired off for combat training. It startled Momo how excited Bakugou seemed to get when it was brought it up. He clearly reveled in the idea of getting to show off his quirk. It was powerful, but he was reckless with it and that wouldn’t cut it if he wanted to be a pro someday. When he did get a chance to use his power he was too hung up on whatever it was that happened between him and Midoriya. 

It had been too easy to analyze the two of them and it baffled her that their Sensei hadn’t stepped in, but she trusted there was a reason for that. He was the symbol of peace after all. 

When she critiqued the fight she could see the anger and maybe even shame? It was only there for a moment before his normal Bakugou scowl returned.

 When it was her turn she half expected him to critique her just to get back at her, but he didn’t. He was clearly still bothered by what happened and she wondered if she should say something to him. After class, she would try to catch him to apologize. It wasn’t that she thought she was wrong for anything she said-- maybe she had just been too harsh. But he didn't seem like the type that would accept an apology so easily either. She had to do something or at least try.

Yaomomo had been so lost in thought that she hadn’t noticed that he ended up leaving the classroom altogether, nor that Midoriya was also missing. She gathered up her things slipping out of the classroom to see if she could still catch him. She had promised herself that she would try to make friends with him today and had already failed once. Momo didn’t want to fail again.

 Her small feet quick against the pavement as she attempted to catch up to him.

‘I should’ve been paying more attention! What if this is a key moment and I’m messing it up?!’

 She rounded the corner barely having time to adjust her eyes to see Bakugou and Midoriya were speaking. Before she could say or do anything a pair of arms wrapped around her. One around her shoulders and the other around her waist. She was about to scream when she realized she was familiar with this person’s grip. She recognized the smell of his cologne too. 

“Yaoyorozu,” his voice a hushed whisper as he kept her back pressed against his chest.

Why was Todoroki here?

He put his finger to her lips, warning her not to speak and she nodded. Did he know something that she didn’t know? What was going on here and why was he still holding her like this? 

It was hard to concentrate, but they were close enough that they could slightly hear what the other pair were talking about. At least in jumbled pieces. Bakugou, of course, was much easier to hear because, well, he was yelling. 

“One day I will make this quirk my own and beat you with my own power.” Midoriya declared. 

The two hiding exchanged a look not sure what he meant by that. It was odd phrasing and then Momo remembered something in the letter.

“If you save Bakugou-san, then you save Midoriya-san too.”

She had made a promise to herself that she wouldn’t read ahead like the notebook asked her not to. Her future-self claimed that she didn’t want past Momo getting overwhelmed, but it was hard to keep such a promise. If this was so important shouldn’t she go in with as much knowledge as possible that way she could handle the situation properly? Her future-self seemed to know her well enough to counter argue that point, but still-- it was frustrating. To hear them talking like this…. it only piqued her curiosity even further.

 “Today I lost to you…” Bakugou trailed off shaking in anger. It sounded like he was in some sort of pain and Momo wondered why this mattered to him so much. It was just a trial battle, a learning experience. But, on that same token, she understood too. It seemed like he was a perfectionist much like herself. Though they had two completely different ways of dealing with it. 

“That’s all it was, that’s all…”

 Seeing him like this, talking about how he knew that he couldn’t beat Todoroki cast him in a different light for her. He was unintentionally being vulnerable and unknowingly exposing himself not only to Midoriya but to the two of them too. Momo wanted to comfort the both of them. She could feel the animosity and she just wanted to know what happened between them-- and furthermore what was going to happen that made all of this necessary?

"DAMN IT! I ENDED UP AGREEING WITH WHAT THAT PONYTAIL GIRL SAID!" He bellowed, startling Momo, but Todoroki kept his grip tight on her.

Was he crying? Did her words, though necessary, really cut him that deeply? And he agreed? With her? 

Being a hero was really important to him, wasn’t it? She knew it was important to all of them who were here… but his passion was overwhelming even for himself. Maybe especially for himself.

That’s why she was here doing this…. 

“I need you to change his heart..” 

“Come on,” Todoroki whispered finally pulling her away as Bakugou turned from Midoriya. There was no way she could go to him now, but this wasn’t all for not. She had gained something. 

Momo learned who he really was and now she wanted to save him.