#she literally came home from college for the 3rd and 4th ones so they could try the tracks out together the second they dropped

[livwritesstuff]

okay so when i was writing this, i had a whole scene written about how steve is a video game guy and bought himself the SNES when it came out as a reward for getting through undergrad and loves the mario franchise in particular. i ended up cutting it out for the sake of brevity, but it got me thinking

In 2008, Steve and Eddie give their daughters a Nintendo Wii as a collective Christmas gift, and with it comes Mario Kart.

Now, nothing rivals the Harrington Family Mario Kart experience – there’s ganging up on each other and mocking the CPUs and throwing Wii remotes across the room and relentless trash talk. It is an all-time favorite game to play as a family.

That being said – Eddie is horrible at Mario Kart, even the janky earlier versions. He’s able to hold his own against his seven- and five-year old for about as long as it takes for them to figure out the controls (which is approx. two days for Moe, and Robbie’s right behind her). After that, he’s consistently getting destroyed by not only his husband, but also his elementary school-aged children.

Steve, on the other hand, is excellent at Mario Kart. He went easy on the girls while they were learning but the second they had it figured out and started to become real competition for him, it was over. He is also extremely competitive, something Moe and Robbie absolutely picked up from him, so by the time the Nintendo Switch is released in 2017, Mario Kart had become a very serious family affair (much to Eddie’s chagrin).

Eddie gets one look at Metal Mario and insists on playing as him because…metal. Duh. But then he’s careening uncontrollably around the course, spending more time soaring off the track than actually driving on it, and he can’t figure out why.

Robbie: Different characters have different stats, Dad.

Eddie: What the fuck are his stats then?

Robbie: Pretty sure he’s, like, one of the fastest ones.

So he switches over to Lemmy (because “that’s a kick-ass head of hair”) and comfortably ambles around the course, never placing higher than eighth but also no longer sending himself flying off into the abyss.

Hazel inherited her dad’s lack of proclivity for the game (though she’s definitely still better at it than him – it would be hard not to be). She likes the “cute” ones – the babies, the villagers, Toad and Toadette – and she usually chooses a novelty cart like the carousel horse. She also doesn’t have that competitive need to win, which is good because Moe, Robbie, and Steve can collectively bring the “healthy” tension-level to its max capacity.

Moe’s guiding force in choosing a Mario Kart character is a healthy mix of aesthetic and irony. She usually opts for King Boo. She also maintains that the stats don’t actually mean anything, and that she drives the same regardless of who she plays as

Steve and Robbie completely disagree with this. They are arguably the best at Mario Kart out of the entire family, and they’re pretty much matched, skill-wise. As such, they have very strong feelings about those stats that Moe says don’t matter because they tend to be the determining factor in who actually wins.

Steve is always using new combinations of characters and karts – he has an Excel spreadsheet for tracking what he’s tried out and everything.

Conversely, Robbie has firmly settled on Rosalina and will not change her mind.

Steve: There’s, like, six characters way faster than her!

Robbie: It’s about the traction, Pop.

[desticuleconfessions]

hey desticule. so i have a supernatural-themed girl best friends story that i’ve wanted to share for a long time, especially because none of my irl friends ever rly understood the gravity of this experience w/o the context of spn. there’s a lot of fun parallels to stuff on the show, and its given me like years of brain rot and therapy lmao. so i really deeply appreciate this page as an outlet, thank you so much to the mods for making it. anyways uh. here goes. sorry it’s so long.

[tw: queer trauma, religious trauma, mental illness]

okay so. in 3rd grade i met this girl. we'll call her kate. we became best friends, as in our names were never spoken separately, we did (and won) every science fair together, she came skiing with my family every winter, i stayed with her family at their beach house in the summers, our younger siblings were friends, etc.

our birthdays were exactly 6 months apart (jan 22/jul 22) so we literally believed that we were celestially intertwined.

we wrote a novel together in 8th grade. her family is baptist, we attended massachusetts catholic schools. i would go to church with her family when i slept over, i held hands and said grace with them at meals. they are all tall and blonde and beautiful. classically angelic. i am south asian. i remember introducing her to harry potter in the 4th grade, her mother hadn't let her read em because it was "blasphemous", but i snuck her my copies and she would read them during lunch n recess and keep them in my locker. sorry this seems like a lot of unnecessary detail but it will be important later.

anyways we both got into doctor who and subsequentally supernatural (s1-8?9 at the time). i specifically remember getting her into supernatural. i also remember her instinctive disdain for destiel when i talked about it, i was showing her a meta or fanfic i think, and i talked her through undoing some of her christian household’s internalized homophobia (fully assuming we were both straight at this point) (we were fucking 12). we'd do the whole "bitch" "jerk" thing, i (the older one) affectionately called her 'sammy', her phone password was dean, mine was cas (and they still are). on my 13th birthday, she gifted me a samulet, which i still wear to this day. (additionally, she gave me a vonnegut 'so it goes' necklace one year) (thats not vital but) (goes to show the extent of my dean coding) (im also an aquarius lmao). im highly protective of her. i carry extra rubber bands on my wrist for her. i keep our money and phones in my jacket when the school takes us skiing. i sit next to her in the halls during lunch and organize her binder. on an 8th grade field trip, a boy made a gross comment at her and i broke his nose.

so we start high school together at coed catholic school nearby, i join debate, make a friend also into spn, she's bi. she asks kate out over text. kate's mom sees this. things turn.

now the rest of these things happened over the course of a couple months and due to my trauma memory loss, i have no idea how accurate some of these memories are so uh. don't hold me to them.

- her highly religious mother is not happy with this obviously. at some point, she brings a priest home and tries to have kate exorcised.

- at this point, we learn that kate is schizophrenic; it never seemed to create noticeable issues before bc her home life and childhood was a perfect happy dream (not an assumption, her words).

- she's still coming to school, sporadically now, i bring home her work, spend hours helping her.

- when she comes to school, she has seizures: sometimes we're fortunate enough that they happen in a class we have together. she freezes up and the teacher empties the room. i refuse to leave. i hold her hand and softly sing her favorite song and sometimes she comes back to me. sometimes she doesn’t and the bell rings and the teacher forces me to leave and let the nurse handle it.

- another time they announce a medical lockdown (to keep ppl out of the hallway if someone is being escorted to an ambulance) while im in catholicism class, i immediately know it’s her; she fainted in the pool during swim team practice.

- i stay awake for 6 days straight bc i read online that sleep deprivation induces some of the same symptoms as schizophrenia and if i could understand what she was going through, i could help her

- she shows up at my house w both of her parents 15 minutes before the winter ball, begs me to go bc her parents will only let her if i go. so i do. her mom lurks by the gym doors with the chaperones. during a slow song, kate and debate girl start to slow dance, i grab our friend’s hand, drag him in front of them so her mom can’t see and make out with him.

- i wanted to tell her to stop but i was too afraid i would lose us, that it would seem like i was homophobic or i was jealous, but i knew her in my marrow and it didn’t seem like she was in love or into the relationship, it was willful self destruction

- we talked in the last few years, she confirmed this.

- at some point, she says she’s sorry she didn’t tell me about the voices before.

- when we talk, she’s not her anymore, she doesn’t remember our inside jokes, our codes, i can feel her being slowly ripped away and apart in real time

- i have a vivid memory of arguing with her and her telling me im not real, that her mind made me up, while occasionally speaking to something? someone? else in the room. i hold her hand and point to the matching thin scars on our thumbs and try to convince her im real.

- she eventually drops out entirely, taken to some mental facility that im not entirely sure wasnt conversion therapy (it was definitely a religious facility) (and conversion therapy was not outlawed in new hampshire until 2019) and im not allowed to see her.

- every now and then i get cryptic distressing emails or texts from her.

- one in particular has the subject, “youandiwalkafragilelineihaveknownitallthistimebutineverthoughtidlivetoseeitbreak” which is the first line of the song ‘haunted’ by taylor swift (our shared favorite)(the summer after this happened we collectively decided we needed a new swift Our Song and chose ‘breathe’). the body of the email read “what the hell have i done”

- i pray for the first time in my life, every single day for a few months, in different languages, at temple with my parents, in the chapel at school

- on a club trip, i get a call at 2am from her, crying, asking me why i didn’t help her, why i didn’t stop her, that it was my job to protect her

here’s something i wrote about her, three yrs after:

I wasn’t careful enough and she caught quickly. She burned so close and so bright that for long afterwards, I could not see. And like that, she was gone. I walked into the chapel. Mea culpa. Mea culpa. Mea maxima culpa.

[that last line is from the latin version for a catholic prayer called the act of contrition, it translates to “through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault”]

in the fall, i hear she’s starting at a small baptist school almost an hour from her house. she is dating the principal’s son. the principal is also her pastor.

in my second year of college, i have a bad acid trip in a snowy park in december. i put my hands into the snow and when i look at them,i see blood. i see her body in the snow adorned like it’s a funeral

i still have dreams about her. sometimes i meet her in a grassy field, flying kites and i invite her to my wedding. in others, i catch a glimpse of her ponytail and catholic school skirt and chase her up eight flights of stairs and when i grab her hand, she turns to ash.

at some point in a separate argument w my parents in which they went through my texts and found out i wasn’t straight (amongst other things) my dad says:“i knew i should’ve listened to [kate’s dad] when he told me the things you would talk about. he knew what you are. and he took his daughter away from you.”

last christmas we met up and drove around together, she tells me that for years she thought i hated her for letting me down and for abandoning me, and i literally have the dean winchester in ‘sacrifice’ five stages of grief when sam says “you know what i confessed in there?” because i could not even begin to fathom that she ever blamed herself. it had always been my fault. i had failed to save her. i corrupted her and i failed to save her.

anyways she’s fine now, she’s okay, im okay, we’ve talked and unpacked and we’re alright. but uh. yeah. that happened. the parallels make me crazy. now they can make you crazy too.

‎

[juliankinney]

━━ ( alex fitzalan + cis male + twenty-two ) oi , have you seen julian kinney around ? he lives in flat 14 in bedroom 4 ? i was meant to meet them this morning at bean me up before our lecture but he didn’t show . no ? well , shit . if you do see them , can you tell them i’m looking for them ? they’re a 4th year computer science student from madrid , spain & you’ll know it’s them because they might just remind you of a stack of unread books , the sound of keyboard typing at three in the morning , coffee creamer in every flavor , & unprescribed pills if that helps at all . just be careful , he can be a little distant , critical , & compulsive sometimes . —- oh don’t look like that , they’re usually ingenious , reliable , & confident most of the time . ✏ y! , 22 , she/her , cst

alright whats up guys, as jd once said, greetings and salutations!! im y and this here is julian, who i’ve known for two hours but adore already anyway. i usually play dumbass boys and he’s no exception, but i like to think he might just be a little less dumb than the rest of them. so lets jump into it!!! ♡

for starters here is his messy pinterest board that i made.. like i said... it is a mess, and still a work in progress but y’all can have it anyway!! (fun fact: was gonna make him texan but pepper called him country boy and i was triggered!!!!!!!!!!)

backstory:

 julian was the conception of two teenagers in love during the 90′s in spain; a local and a tourist. the pair were just seventeen when they became parents but it was a whole ordeal at the time because his father’s side of the family did not want anything to do with this impregnated nobody. it wasn’t his grandfather’s vision!!! his son was supposed to go into adulthood unscathed by his mistakes!!! as you can guess julian’s mom side of the family were your blue-collared society while his father’s side was more white-collared. at the time his mother was a student and helped her own mom with the family tailor shop while her father worked as a cook in a restaurant. on the other end of the spectrum, the kinney’s were in the film industry and of old money. needless to say, the two families had little in common.

the kinney’s tried to pay this girl off but her family was 100% not having it and after many arguments and empty threats they came to an agreement. said agreement was that julian would have his rightful surname and would stay in spain and the family would receive a weekly stipend for his expenses. in return no one would say a thing to the press— which, honestly was only ever a threat because the kinney’s wanted to pretend like nothing had happened. 

and so julian grew up in madrid with a single mother and the help of his grandparents. as far as he knew his father had died shortly after he had been born and had been madly in love with his mother (that part was true). the only reason he didn’t share a name with the rest of his family was because the pair had never married, which, would have been the truth regardless. everything was fine; he grew up working at the family shop, attended school, skipped school, maintained amazing grades while simultaneously spending 1/3rd of the time in detention, lost his virginity to marisol cordova in her lilac colored room, etc. he had the most basic upbringing a kid could have.

then his father died. his real father. and suddenly, on paper, he was well off. it wasn’t easy for his mother to tell him the truth when his grandfather stepped foot into the one story home like he had seventeen years ago with that sour look on his face, but she was forced to. she had no other choice. devastated as she was (and she was truly heartbroken), she told him the story of how one day during the summer of 96′ she met james kinney, and how the next year he came back. then, his grandfather informed him of his father’s will and how he’d have access to his inheritance once he turned eighteen.

it was... a lot to process, and as julian does when he feels overwhelmed, he got angry. he was very upset with his mother and even more so with this old man he was meeting for the first time who kept calling him shit like ‘his only grandson’ and ‘a kinney by blood’. it was infuriating for julian, and his mother further telling him about their weekly allowance among other expenses over the years did not help. at all.

that is how julian found out his father was a successful actor turned director, generally known for an action packed franchise released in the 2000′s. it was mind boggling— he’d turn on the tv only to see a picture of his now dead father on screen, news coverage of the deadly car accident that occurred during en route to manchester on every channel. it just didn’t make any sense and was very hard to feel sad for. besides, his mother had enough sadness for the both of them. at his funeral, the two had to stay in the back while the family tried to come up with a game plan of how things were going to move forward; james’ widow was not happy to see her husbands former lover and child at the scene. 

anyways in spite the fact that julian wanted nothing to do with the kinney’s, his grandfather had other plans. a vision of his own for the only grandchild his son had brought into the world, and that started with schooling. julian graduated and had no plans for college until his grandfather threatened to contest the will if he chose to stray from the path, and they needed the money; so college it was. a college of his grandfather’s choice of course, and what better place than somewhere closed off enough to distance julian from the outer world but elite in its own right? 

his grandfather’s plan basically is to make him successful, and being that julian has no interest in their world, he’s had to compromise and just live with the fact that julian is just going to be your regular everyday man. he’s only really doing all of this because he feels guilt over the years but not guilty enough to tell the world that there’s an extra kinney lying around (last names are so common right!?!??!) . however, he still wants him to be in the family. as in everyone in the direct family knows of him and he gets to be involved in all family affairs, etc, but julian just does not give a fuck about them fksdhjfs specially because of how they fucked over his mom and how james’ widow is so fucking bitter about the will.

ANYWAYS he’s been at the school for four years now, gets his schooling paid by his grandfather but still has a job because pride or whatever, and will hack into your shit!

personality/hc’s

i love him, he’s sweet but also not annoyingly sweet. as in yeah he’s nice and polite but has no problem squaring up due to his short temper. kind of blunt sometimes though, and either is dumb or acts dumb if he says something that might hurt someones feelings. like oh.. sorry you feel that way ksjfsdkln

super smart???? has amazing grades and constantly does his work; knows how to multitask and balance his life out (for the most part... at least until he burns himself out). an intellectual™ . not an eboy but i guess u could say a little bit of a gamer,, has tik tok downloaded on his phone, the dad friend i guess

is either in one end of the spectrum or the other when it comes to socializing. most of the time though he finds it exhausting,, talking is hard but once he does start talking it’s like shut up dude no one cares about javascript 

has a small pill problem,, he’s got to be successful somehow right !! also drinks lots of coffee and is a fan of coffee creamer, does not like the strawberry shortcake creamer though because ew. only tea he will drink is matcha green tea, anything else can suck it. 

has also developed some ~anxious~ feelings , why ? idk, light trauma i guess. his pill usage sure doesn’t help though! loser! ... tbh maybe his anxiousness has grown over the years because he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do after school like he has money (that he tries not to use if i’m being honest, would rather use the money he gains from his job which i haven’t decided what should be. leave me alone), and will have a degree, but he’s still just questioning everything?? things have just been weird

sometime during middle school years (idk whats the equivalent of this in spain, shut up) he got into computers and... i’m not proud of this but his first hack was into this girls account that he liked and bro all he wanted to do was see some titties man thats it i promise. that crush did not work out, obvs.

anyways yes he continued down this computer path and made an app during high school!!! it wasn’t successful at all and he eventually deleted it but good for him coding and shit!!! 

would hack into school systems to help out his buds and their grades. yeah they could have just copied off of him but... where is the fun in that lads 

sometime he be just looking up ‘james kinney interviews’ on youtube just to see who this dude was dshjkg poor lad

can speak english and spanish ,, has that lisp thingy spaniards have i hate it but i guess whatever 

kind of messy honestly, can someone clean his desk 

connections

literally anything just hmu i can’t come up with these things tbh

[nightwingism]

5-Years in the Making

So hey, uhm. Hi guys. This isn’t Nightwing related at all, so if you’re following me for that, I’m sorry. This post isn’t the content for you. It’s also VERY long - 5 years long - so if you don’t want to read it, don’t worry about it. It’s also why I’m posting this at 3:13 AM.

I just wanted to take the time and tell a story of my life. Just stuff that has been effecting me since mid 2014. You obviously don’t have to read it. I just wanted to air it out. Get most of it off my chest. 

I feel like it’s important to talk about things that hurt you. That effect you. It’s better to do that than to bottle things up inside you. You know? Because if you just keep it bottled up, where’s the healing? If you let it out, maybe you can make room for something better.

That’s my philosophy anyways. The stuff I tell people. And this is me practicing what I preach.

Please don’t try to figure out who people are, or anything like that. I’d like to keep that a secret. Thanks.

In 2014, during my Junior year in High School, both my Uncle and my Grandpa died. My Uncle, who I was named after, died from an 11 month battle with cancer. My Grandpa died due to smoke inhalation during a house fire a month later that destroyed my Grandparent’s house, due to possibly arson caused by a person who was living in the home. This happened during the months of May - July, roughly. If I’m being honest, this time period really blurred together for me, as it happened just so fast. During this time, my maternal side of the family got really close to each other.

I mean, when I talk to other people about family and stuff, we were always abnormally close, but we got even closer during this time. We had a shirt made up and everything “(Blank) Strong” and what not. Over summer, we spent an ungodly amount of time with each other, as a sort of “mending period.” Slept over at each other’s house, never went anywhere and just stayed cooped up in the house. To be able to lean on each other for comfort. 

Which was very odd for me, since for the previous 17 years of my life, I was essentially bullied by most of them for showing any kind of emotions, for being too emotional. Verbal, emotional, physical. The normal bullying. I’m the youngest, and a boy, so I guess I was supposed to be this unfeeling, unemotional, robot? So to be expected to let out these emotions was weird. I don’t know. I wasn’t able to do it. It just never felt right for me to express sadness when the pain was so much stronger in others. It was a really hard time, feeling like my feelings were invalid due to others and the fact that I just felt like I couldn’t let them out.

It’s not like I didn’t feel bad, or missed - miss - them. I do. Still do 5 years later. But seeing how hard it was for my mom, dad, siblings, and just that whole side of the family, I felt like I had to kind of just saddle that shit up and put on some kind of front. I don’t know. Like I said, it was a really hard time.

My cousins weren’t much older, but they sure loved to act out the adult stuff. For that week, I went to every single party I could go to. Which was basically all of them. And I got my first taste of the stereotypically “high school parties” and all that comes with it. 

I got drunk for the first time, I got high for the first time, I got cross faded for the first time. The whole 9 yards. Turns out? Not a fan of the former and latter - the middle is alright I guess. Being doing the former a lot recently (but that’s a whole different can of worms). So after that, I basically said “nah, not for me. I don’t need that.” Can you really call it cutting it cold turkey if it was only for a week? I guess to just illustrate that point.

2014-2015 senior year went by and we continued to be a really close family.

For Christmas that year, in 2014, my Aunt boasted that she had got us all tickets to go to Cancun for the 4th of July weekend in 2015. Cool, great. During this time we all /loved/ each other, we’re all so close. We would all be 18 years or older by then, so we would all be legally able to drink in Mexico. What could possibly go wrong??

The answer is everything. Everything could go wrong.

This was during Summer School during my 1st year in college, where I was doing Cross Country and in the middle of the training days. So during the trip, I would have to run on a treadmill and workout. Not important to the story, just trying to situate this in my own personal timeline.

The first two days were fine. My cousins and I went to the “club” and I danced with a girl twice my height and totally out of my league. I swam with my newborn niece, babysat my young cousin. My dad recommended me some drinks that mask the taste of alcohol. It was fun. At night my cousins and I would “FaceTime” all of our girlfriends before going to bed or whenever. I put FaceTime in quotes because we had to use this special app due to location and everything. it was weird. I also don’t have an iPhone so.

It really was a great trip those two days.

Then the third day came around. It was on July 3rd. I only remember the date because it was literally the day before the 4th. So 4 - 1, yeah. Anyways. I forget how this whole thing started, but basically I wanted to stay in the room and talk to my at the time girlfriend. I missed her and all that. And I really didn’t want to play volleyball with random girls? But I was talked into it, and i said fine. Whatever.

Went to play, we played a few rounds. It was whatever. After those rounds, they said they were going to clean off and we’ll start a new round. I didn’t want to clean off, since we were still playing and that would just be a waste, so I waited around.

And waited. and waited. and waited.

Half hour goes by and I’m wondering where the hell they were. Turns out, they went to play a whole different game in the pool and just never told me. Ditched me in a game I didn’t even want to play to begin with.

Rude.

But whatever. So I went to go hang out with my niece because I love her and she was barely going to be 3 months. So still cute. 

We were told that we would have to wake up early for the next day (the 4th) because we had something planned, and to make sure we had alarms and room service and all of that situated. I made sure to set that up.

That night, the two cousins wanted to go out to the club again. I was still upset with them so I said no, it was going to be an early night for me. And it was an early night. That is, until they came back into the room at 3am drunk out of their minds with two random girls.

They were the opposite of quiet or considerate. I woke up basically right away. I forget how the conversations went, but the main thing that stuck out to me the most was one of them saying “If he wakes up, I’m leaving.” So I pretended to be asleep so they can have their fun. Whatever. I just want them to shut up and let me sleep.

After an hour of them talking loudly to each other and failing to get them in bed, my cousins take them back to their rooms. So this is roughly 4ish

Me being me locked the door on them, but had second thoughts and unlocked the door. That would have been funny but cruel.

But it probably would have been better than what I did.

So remember when I said I put alarms and room services? Yeah well I totally forgot about that. Turns out I asked for room service for 6am?? Which is an ungodly hour anyways. Lots of metal pans and plates and metal stuff was ushered into our room, and it was like a scene from a movie.

And I was irrationally pissed at everything. And I take full responsibility for being an idiot and not taking the high road. But at the moment, and at the time, it felt like the thing to do.

So I banged on a few of the pans. Turned on the TV and for some reason Women’s tennis was playing. Great. Turned that shit up high. And I really just wanted to give them a taste of their own medicine. Show them how it felt to be rudely woken up.

Well they didn’t like it much. After a few verbal spats thrown towards me, which is nothing new, been told most of those things by them my whole life, whatever, one of them says “he’s a (last name), of course he’s a bitch, all the (last names) are bitches” and that really got to me. 

Because, sure yeah, I can be a dick, an asshole, a douchebag, whatever. But he brought my family into this. My mom, my dad. My whole paternal side. And that really just broke the camel’s back.

To this day, I don’t know how I was able to get out of my bed, get into their bed, without spilling my bowl of cereal, and without them reacting before I was able to throw my 4th punch, but on God, I did it.

Though, I really wasn’t able to get a 5th one in, when they were able to react and go all 2v1. One held, one hit. That was a fun time. I learned I have a pretty solid head that could take a good amount of punches. Almost went blind in my right eye because one of them did the old “thumb in the eye socket” technique. Still have the scar under my eye from it too. But I got a nice clean cut on that one’s neck.

After that we had a very long verbal spat about how “we’re a family goddamn it” and “grandma and my mom thought you’ve been a douche this whole trip” and “you’re just jealous of how we are closer than you could ever be”, oh and a few more random things thrown in there.

They went back to bed, and I sat there on my bed. Watching Tennis. Each wack of the racquet just kind of reminding me of the events prior. 

Oh and it turned out we didn’t have to be up until like 9. So I laid there for like 2 hours like that. I just remember typing everything that happened and sending it to my girlfriend, because I just needed to tell someone, and I didn’t want to forget any of it.

It was also then that I basically had a dilemma.

If I told my family what happened, the trip was over. Completely over. This getaway adventure to escape our troubles would turn into a family spat. And I just couldn’t do that to them. I couldn’t.

So i didn’t.

I remember thinking up a lie on the spot to explain why my eye was bloodied. I said I fell into the side of the drawer. I remember my rational was something along the lines of “I needed something to be so obviously a lie, that they wouldn't bother to ask me to elaborate now”. And they didn’t.

This was the 4th. And I think we went home on the 7th? So I just needed to avoid everything for the next 3 days and then I was home free.

Before it was over, my mom and sister got into a little fight, so we both isolated ourselves from the group. She asked me what really happened, and I told her. So she really helped me throughout those days.

The trip was over. Woot. Now I never had to see any of them again, because I would be able to just say no to family get-togethers. Get a life of my own.

NOPE.

We had a dodger game THAT Friday. And we already bought the tickets. So I couldn’t really say no. And my girlfriend was coming too, so at least I’d have her to keep me sane.

Well, here’s the funny thing. It wasn’t until the drive to the game where my family finally turned to me and asked “So what really happened”.

Before I told the story, I literally BEGGED my mom not to say anything. I made her promise multiple times that she wouldn’t. And she promised and agreed. So I told my tale of astonishment, everything up to this point. How they were all called bitches and that’s what set me off to turn it physical.

Again, I just want to say that I know I shouldn’t have turned it physical. But insulting me is one thing, insulting my family is a whole other level.

Anyways, we get to the game. (There’s a part where my grandma was upset because I didn’t hug her? But I honestly don’t remember that because I just remember trying to find the bathroom. So maybe it happened, maybe it didn’t, I still don’t know) I get my food, and we go up to the seats. I’m already sitting on the top - away from everyone as much as I can - and everyone starts to work there way in. Eventually my mom and dad start walking up.

And this is where all hell breaks loose.

My mom shouts “the bitches are here” and that was really just. Wow. Insults are hurled, slander is tossed. It was a very lively discussion. And there I was. Just sitting there, because the ONE thing I didn’t want to happen, the ONE thing I tried so hard not to let happen, is unfolding right in front of me.

I remember one of the female cousins who wasn’t involved try to argue some point, one of the male cousins crying, and my aunt saying “did you see what he did to (my son’s) neck!” and my mom responding “Yes I did!” all proud. 

Fast forwarding to April 2016, and to sort of just fill everything in from Dodgers game to then, it was basically full of Facebook digs directed towards us, my grandma saying for us to knock it off and stop enticing them, and then more digs. 

For someone reason, no one in my family was safe. All of us had something negative to be said. But it basically boiled down to it being targeted at me (of course), my mom, and my oldest sister. 

Anyways, in April, my grandma was having a birthday party. I forget how old she was turning, but we had a big celebration. I remember it was only supposed be “X” amount of money, but it seemingly doubled over night to pay for things that weren’t needed to be paid. A lot of wasted money.

It was my grandma’s birthday though. And that wasn’t a thing I was going to miss, regardless of how everything was.

A lot of things transpired that night. Small things. But things none the less.

The next day, I sent a text to my aunt, telling her what I felt and why I felt that way. I believe it was mainly addressed to talk how she was being rude to my girlfriend, and I didn’t appreciate that, and asking her to treat her with more respect. Didn’t go over well. I think I got a meme as a reply that was saying “the world doesn’t revolve around you”. Yeah.

A few days later, my oldest sister and I went to my grandma’s to talk to her. Because we felt like this was just an awful situation for us and we wanted to try to get her to see that we weren’t doing anything. Anyways, I guess during this time, one of the male cousins was texting my other sister.

Essentially, he said my sister lied about a very traumatic effect that happened to her, which still effects her to this day, and that if it “really did happen, there would be a police report”.

I don’t think I’ve cried that hard in a long time. I remember breaking down and just. Yeah. We showed it to my grandma, because there’s no way this could be real? Right? And I remember I was furious. I was so fucking pissed off. I was /visibly/ shaking.

For the next, I don’t know, 2 hours, me and him went back and forth in text messages. Just hurling insults at each other. I eventually started to target his mom, my aunt, because he made a side comment about “don’t talk about my mom” and, cmon, that’s like, an invitation at that point, especially in that mindset. 

Side note, a lot of those insults thrown at me are now inside jokes between my friends and I because they were just the stupidest things I’ve ever been called.

So I was insulting him, insulting my aunt, and just ready to take on the world at this point. Because, honestly, at this point I was just holding on to my anger. It wasn’t good at all. And to have something like that be said about my sister? It really brought that fire to life. And it’s the main reason why I can never really forgive them. At least him. 

But that’s a whole other story on why.

So maybe a couple days later, my whole family gets a message on facebook. It’s a 6 paged message that essentially boils down to “this is what is wrong with you, you, you and you, and you guys are toxic as hell and you guys are out of our lives.

My favorite part is when I’m called a “selfish, ungrateful, self-entitled punk” and how I’m jealous and want to be like my cousin. Which is hilarious. She also mentions the traumatic experience in quotes, which pissed me off, because quotes usually indicate the idea of a falsehood that is being passed along as facts. 

From there, we don’t talk. We don’t talk for a year or so.

I don’t think it was until mid to late 2017 where people started to talk to each other again. Thanksgiving and Christmas usually forced us. But we slowly started doing things together, and having family events with each other that last longer than an hour.

And now it’s 2019. And we are doing full on holidays again. Inviting each other to these things out of the blue. Acting like nothing ever happened. Back to the “old days” sort of deal. 

“The healing process.”

And I just don’t know. I don’t like going to these things still. I’m still angry at everything. I’m still hurting from it all. 

I’ve been wearing this fucking mask at these events all these years, reinforcing it after each use, acting like I can stand to be there, that I don’t want to get up and just run away. I’ve been fortunate enough to be able to use school as an excuse to leave events early this year. But that could only go so far.

And it’s been 5 years. And I don’t know what to do. 

Except write it all down, throw it into the wind, and just try to heal I guess. Heal as much as I possibly can.

[shawol9196]

Teacher AU: 5.5/?

This is the same as Ch 5, just from Kibum’s perspective.

Whether it’s by luck or the universe trying to teach him to finally trust at the age of 26, Kibum is here now. He just hopes that soon there’s a sign to let him know.

AFF / AO3

Kibum’s surprised at how well he sleeps. Whether it’s the fact that he’s in a seemingly safe apartment or the fact that he’s sleeping in an actual bed, he feels more well rested than he has in weeks. He checks the time on his phone: it’s 5:45. Getting out of bed, he unlocks his door and peeks out into the apartment. He assumes that since all the lights are out that Minho is still asleep. He goes back in his room, figuring that he might as well shower. He’s overjoyed at the fact that there’s not only hot water but also that there’s little travel sized soaps from hotels in a little bucket on the counter. It’s been a while since he’s had soap that smelled so nice. When he finishes, he puts on cleaner pajamas; while he doesn’t want Minho to see him in pajamas quite yet, he’s more afraid of ruining his work clothes. When he goes into the kitchen, the lights are still off and Minho’s door is still shut. He begins poking around the cabinets and in the fridge. While Minho didn’t expressly say that he could eat anything, something inside of him tells him that he’d be more upset if he didn’t. He’s vaguely disappointed at the lack of breakfast foods he finds. He spots maple syrup hidden in the back of the fridge. The clock reads 6:10; plenty of time to make some thank-you-for-letting-me-stay-here pancakes. He mixes up the batter in a minute and quickly gets to work cooking them. If he’s lucky, Minho will sleep just long enough that they’ll be finished. To Kibum’s vague disappointment, Minho wakes up halfway through the cooking. When he comes out, he immediately goes to the coffee maker on the counter. Kibum feels bad for not trying to get it to work, but was also too afraid of breaking it to try.

“Did you sleep ok?” Minho asks, voice deep with sleep. Kibum wonders if he’s just woken up and if not, whether or not his voice gets any lower. He could get used to waking up early, he thinks, if he got to wake up to this sound.

“Yeah, I actually slept really well. Thanks. It’s been a long time since I’ve been in a comfortable bed.”

They both turn to look at each other, but immediately turn back away.

“I’m making pancakes, I hope that’s ok. I just wanted to do something to say thank you for letting me stay here,” Kibum says. While he’d been sure that Minho would be okay with it before, now that he was out here Kibum wasn’t so sure.

“Oh, you didn’t have to go to that trouble, dude. I’m happy to let you stay, to help out a friend.” While there’s no malice in Minho’s voice, Kibum’s worry about whether or not pancakes were a good choice grows. When Minho finishes making his coffee, he moves so he’s standing next to Kibum.

“I actually really love pancakes,” he confesses quietly, “I just feel bad making you feel like you have to do work your first morning here.” Kibum fishes the finished pancakes out of his pan onto a plate, pouring a new set to replace them. He hands the plate to Minho, who takes it but doesn’t move.

“Go eat, before they get cold.” Kibum instructs.

“Kibum, you’re my guest. I can wait til you’re done and ready to eat.”

Kibum doesn’t argue but also doesn’t look up. He’s surprised and a little touched that Minho’s willing to wait but is also worried of what he might do if he has to wait long.

“Is this the last batch?”

Kibum nods.

“I’ll set the table then.”

As Minho moves around the kitchen to get condiments and utensils, Kibum attempts to will the pancakes to cook faster. He doesn’t want Minho to have to wait too long. In his haste, he forgets to regrease the pan and the pancakes stick when it gets to be time to flip them over. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Minho fixing coffee. He accepts the mug but remains uneasy as Minho watches him. He gets all but one pancake flipped and he fights the urge to curse at it. When he finally gets it flipped, he can’t help but celebrate. He sees Minho smile behind his coffee mug and he feels a bit lighter. Though it isn’t uncommon for Minho to smile -- as Suho had said, it was weird to see Minho without some sort of smile on his face -- there was something particular about this one that made Kibum feel warm. Smiles like that, Kibum could definitely learn to live with.  With Kibum’s pancakes finished, they both sit at the table.

“So why did your last roommate move out?” Kibum asks. While he’s glad for the empty room, he’s also curious about why someone would move out.

“To put it shortly, he got engaged.” Minho replies, cutting up his pancakes

“What’s the longly then?”

“My roommate, Donghae, and I have been friends for a long time. Since high school, actually. He works as a social worker. We moved in here 5 or so years ago, before we were done with school. We tend to volunteer together a lot since we have similar interests and abilities and stuff. Anyways, when I was part of that group that helped attempt to repair your apartment building, he was in it too. He was assigned to a different area, like the 3rd or 4th floor. When we finished and came home, all he could talk about was the guy that he was teamed up with. How cute and interesting he was. They’d exchanged numbers and it was pretty evident pretty quick that there was something serious between them. They started dating within a week or two, and he started having him -- his name is Hyukjae -- over pretty regularly. Which was fine at first, but then it started feeling weird to be here when he was over. Anyways I mentioned it to Donghae that I wasn’t feeling comfortable with the arrangement and when Donghae mentioned it to him, Hyukjae proposed. They got an apartment within a month and it’s been just me here since then.”

Kibum nods, slowly eating his pancakes.

“What about you?” Minho asks, shoving a huge bite into his mouth.

“What about me?”

“Have you ever had a roommate?”

“I did once, when I was in college. He hated me.”

“I can’t believe that anyone would hate you but I also know college roommates are the worst. What happened?”

Kibum laughs bitterly and before he can decide how much he’s willing to tell Minho about the situation the whole story is falling out of his mouth.

“Well for starters he told me he hated me and that we wouldn’t get along on the first day. He then proceeded to vaguely terrorize me weekly with fun little pranks like stealing literally all of my clothes when I went to shower, throwing water on me if I happened to fall asleep while he was still awake, and stealing my textbooks on a regular basis. He was close to the resident assistant, so I couldn’t complain to her about it. She was close to the building supervisor, so I couldn’t go to her about it. The director of housing was on the brink of retiring and wouldn’t do anything unless the president of the university explicitly demanded that he do it, so I couldn’t go to him. I ended up buying my suitcase so i could lock all of my clothes and textbooks up and take them with me wherever I went. I slept on benches a lot and in my classes. I think a lot of people thought I was homeless, not that I can blame them.”

“That’s terrible, Kibum. I’m sorry that you had to go through that.”

Silence ensues. Kibum shifts uneasily and attempts to stuff as much pancake in his mouth as he realistically can. What was he thinking, unloading all of this on Minho? He knows by the concerned look on Minho’s face that his own expression must be grim so he does his best to control it. After a few uncomfortable moments, Minho gets up and takes his plate to the sink.

“Since you made me pancakes, would you accept if I made you lunch?” he asks as he heads to the fridge.

“Oh, you don’t have to. I’m...I’ll be ok.”

Truth be told, Kibum doesn’t have any lunch plans. He’d had his last bit of food for lunch yesterday and since he didn’t get paid til Monday, his plan had been to just hide out in the administration lounge so he wouldn’t have to face Minho lunchless and then go to the food pantry after work. Minho grabs his supplies out and closes the fridge before looking at Kibum.

“Kibum,” he starts softly. “You didn’t bring any food with you, nothing’s going to be open before we get to work, and even though you’re admin today, I know you don’t have time to go get anything while you’re on your lunch break without sacrificing your entire break. I know you don’t want to be burdensome but I’d rather you have at least a little something to take with you.”

Kibum sighs. Though he doesn’t really know Minho, he knows him well enough that he can see that he won’t win this battle. After another bite of pancake, he concedes.

“I guess a small sandwich would be okay. Like half of what you normally take will be fine.”

Minho begins making his sandwich at the counter. Kibum’s grateful for the food, but he can’t help but be nervous as to what’s going into his sandwich versus what Minho’s putting in his own and tries to watch. Minho seems to notice, moving to the table much to Kibum’s relief. Now that he doesn’t have to worry about what’s going in, he uses the time to just watch Minho. There’s something charming about the way he focuses on putting each ingredient on the sandwich. He’s heard Kyuhyun and Suho rave about his sandwiches on more than one occasion and he’s quietly excited to finally try one.

“Are you going to come sit in the teacher lounge with me during your break?” Minho asks without looking up. Kibum is caught off guard by the question; no one’s ever asked him to sit with them.

“If you are, I’ll just put your stuff in with mine so you don’t have to worry about anyone taking it, and by anyone I mean Kyuhyun or Suho.” Kibum laughs.

“Yeah, I’ll come sit with you.”

*

Over time, their relationship gets more comfortable. Saturday night, Kibum does his best to make dinner for Minho. The pasta bake he makes is one of the first recipes he learned as a child and he’s pleased with how much Minho seems to like it. On Sunday they go grocery shopping. He intends on using his last bit of emergency money to buy his own groceries, but Minho pays for everything and more. He’s grateful for Minho’s kindness but is also worried about what he wants as payment. When they get home, they start cooking freezer meals for the upcoming week. It’s obvious that Minho’s cooking skills aren’t as strong as they could be, but Kibum finds his well-intentioned-but-sloppily-executed aid endearing. Minho listens with interest when Kibum shares the story of how he learned to cook; he can’t tell if his interest is genuine or feigned, but either way he enjoys sharing the story. By the next weekend, they figure out a system. Kibum offers to make their breakfasts if Minho will continue making lunches; their team work on freezer meals means that neither one has to put in more effort. Kibum will pay as close to half of the rent as he can manage and put money in the grocery fund as he can. In turn, Minho agrees to do his best to stop disallowing Kibum to pay for anything. With the ground rules settled, Kibum allows himself to finally set in. He spends more time out of his room, starts using the appliances without major worry, and leaves his books out on the coffee table in the living room without fear.

While he’s grateful for the room and for Minho’s kind company, the whole situation is weird for him. As a former latchkey kid, it’s odd to have someone around all the time. He feels like Minho’s watching him all the time, though he knows he’s also guilty of the same. He hasn’t relied on anyone but himself since he started elementary school and he’s not sure that he has the ability to do so at this point. Whether it’s by luck or the universe trying to teach him to finally trust at the age of 26, Kibum is here now. He just hopes that soon there’s a sign to let him know.

*

When Kibum wakes up, he’s cold. Very cold. There’s a hand on his shoulder and someone talking to him. He tries to move but his body feels incredibly heavy all of a sudden. He blinks, coughs, and turns to see that it’s Minho sitting on his bed.

“Minho?”

“It’s 7:30 so I came to check on you.” There’s concern in his voice, which troubles Kibum.

“It’s what time?”

“Do you feel okay? You don’t look so good.” Minho asks, putting a hand to Kibum’s forehead. He takes a moment to assess how he feels.

“I feel cold. And sore. And...and gross.”

“I’m going to go get the thermometer out of my room, okay? Just stay here.”

Kibum tries to respond, but all he can think about is how cold he is.  He tries rearranging the blankets around himself while Minho’s gone. It takes forever for him to come back but just as Kibum feels himself start to fall back asleep, there’s a dip in the bed.

“I’m going to take your temperature, okay? It’ll probably feel cold on your forehead but it’ll be quick I promise.”

He tries to hum back a yes, but coughs instead. Minho doesn’t tell him what the thermometer says, but judging by his expression, it’s not a good number. Kibum reaches for Minho’s hand to get his attention.

“I don’t think I can go to work today” he croaks. Minho laughs.

“No, Kibum. I think you should stay in bed today. Are you going to be okay if I go to work?”

Kibum thinks about how he feels again. It’s just like old times, when both his parents would go to work regardless of how he feelt, so he hums a yes.

“I’m going to bring you some water and crackers, is there anything else you want?��

His stomach does a flip at the word crackers and he wrinkles his nose. He thinks he sees Minho smile before getting up to get whatever things he said he was going to get. At this point, all Kibum wants to do is be warm and go to sleep. He comes back with more things than he said he would bring and Kibum feels the bed dip again.

“I put it all right here for you. I’ll keep my phone on in case you need me, but if you really need someone and you can’t get ahold of me, here’s the neighbor’s number as well. His name is Siwon and he’s really nice.”

Kibum reaches for Minho’s hand again, and this time Minho holds it. Though he was sure he’d be okay alone just moments ago, he’s not so sure now. Either way, he’s sleepy and Minho’s fingers in his hair isn’t helping. There’s a squeeze on his hand and then Minho’s hand is gone.

“I’ll try to come check on you at lunch, alright?”

Kibum hums even though he’s too sleepy to understand what Minho’s saying anymore. He pulls the blanket over his head and as he hears the door click shut he decides that he doesn’t want to be alone but is too weak to call for Minho. He decides to sleep instead, hoping that Minho will be home soon.

The next time he wakes up, there’s clinking on his nightstand. It occurs to him that Minho must be home.

“Minho?” he tries calling out. He tries to move the blankets off his head but he’s too covered and can’t find his way out. Luckily Minho lends a hand and when he’s finally free of  his cocoon, he’s greeted by a soft smile.

“Did you get some more sleep?” Minho asks.

Kibum nods, coughs. He doesn’t feel any better but if Minho’s home then that’s okay enough.

“I brought you soup. Do you want to try a sip?”

It takes all of Kibum’s strength to whisper“what kind?”

“It’s beef bone soup. The lady at the corner store always makes it and everyone I know swears that it has magical properties.”

Kibum’s stomach does another flip and he wrinkles his nose again.

“That’s my favorite soup but I don’t think my tummy can handle it.”

“How about I put in the fridge for later and we try again when I get home.”

“Aren’t you home?”

“No, I’m on lunch break. Heechul is supposed to cover for me so I can make it back.”

“Oh.”

Kibum’s too tired to try and hide his disappointment that Minho has to leave again and does his best to pout as he takes his temperature. Minho’s face isn’t happy, so his fever is either the same or worse.

“I’m going to put this up and get you more water and a tylenol.”

The moment Minho’s out of the room, Kibum all of a sudden feels incredibly warm. He does his best to try to kick off the blankets but he’s too weak to do it. When he comes back, Minho helps pull them off. He arranges them so that they’re laying alongside Kibum instead of at the feet of the bed. Much easier to get into. He sees Minho check his watch and knows he has to leave again. Kibum does his best to get comfortable enough to sleep again before Minho leaves. When he hears the lock on the apartment door, he’s instantaneously cold again. He thanks Minho for putting the blankets to the side as he rolls into them, falling back asleep.

The third time Kibum wakes up, he’s alone. He can hear dishes clinking in the kitchen and takes it as a sign that Minho is home. Although he still doesn’t feel any better, he’s tired of being alone. He manuvears himself so that he’s sitting up. This proves to be a bad decision and before he knows it he’s reaching for the bucket Minho had brought for him. His grip on the bucket isn’t great; it slips out of his grasp and when he attempts to keep it from falling, he ends up dunking his head into it, getting vomit all into his hair. He’s crying by the time that Minho makes it in.

“You alright, buddy?”

Kibum hiccups and shakes his head. Minho walks in further and seems to assess the situation before sitting down. He offers Kibum his hand, which Kibum gingerly takes.

“I know throwing up isn’t any fun and it probably hurt, but it’s going to be okay,” he says in his kindergarten voice. He lets Kibum have his little cry, rubbing circles into the back of his hand. They both stay still until Kibum is able to sit up properly again.

“If I turn the water on for you, do you think you can manage to shower?”

Kibum takes deep breaths in an attempt to say ‘no’ before he simply shakes his head.

“Do you think it’d be okay if I washed your hair for you?” he offers.

Kibum turns to look at Minho. He’s never had anyone home to take care of him when he was sick, much less help him clean himself up.

“I promise I’m not going to try anything weird. I just want you to be able to get better and I’m sure you’re ready to have clean hair again.”

“I...that should be okay.”

“Are you ready or do you need a minute?”

“Yeah just...just give me a second.”

Minho stands, seemingly with the intention of emptying Kibum’s bucket, but he isn’t ready to let go yet. Minho doesn’t pull away but instead stays until Kibum lets go. He hands Minho the bucket, which gets set down on the ground before helping Kibum stand. Minho walks facing him, leading him to the bathroom. With Kibum’s hands on Minho’s shoulders and Minho’s hands on Kibum’s sides, it almost feels like dancing. Almost. Minho helps him sit on the floor and Kibum is content to lean against the tub as Minho gets water running and washes out the bucket. Though he’s mad that he’s sick and that Minho’s having to take care of him, he’s glad that it at least waited this long.

“Do you just use shampoo or do you like conditioner too?” Minho asks, putting a towel on Kibum’s back.

“I like both but at this point just shampoo is fine.”

When the water seems satisfactory, Minho kneels next to Kibum and helps him shift so that his head is properly over the side. The water is just warm enough to be soothing and when he feels Minho’s fingers on his scalp, he’s instantly relaxed. He enjoys having his hair washed so much that he’s almost glad that he threw up. Almost. If he died at this exact moment, he’d be okay with that, he decides. All too soon, Minho’s done and toweling him off. Kibum’s feeling well enough to sit up on his own and takes the towel to dry his face off. When he looks up, Minho’s looking at him with an affectionate smile. Kibum’s amused when he looks away quickly, as if he realizes he’s been caught.

“Do I look that bad?” he asks, voice stronger than before.

“You don’t look well, but you don’t look bad.”

“So if I don’t look good but I also don’t look bad, what do I look like?”

Minho studies his face again, the smile even warmer this time.

“Like a peach.”

Kibum attempts to laugh. It could be the fever, but the comment makes him feel warm.

“I’m going to go change your sheets, when you’re ready to get up just let me know.”

Kibum nods as Minho stands. He’s peaceful for a moment, but it’s quickly replaced with an immense cold feeling and dry heaving. Minho comes back with the thermometer, face once again disappointed. He brings a blanket to replace the towel around Kibum’s shoulders. Kibum’s grateful when Minho starts to rub his back.

“If you want me to stop, just say.”

Kibum manages to squeak out a “please don’t stop’” in between heaves, and he’s thankful when Minho continues until the episode passes. When it’s over, Minho grabs his phone to text someone.

“Are you going to bed?” Kibum asks, voice hushed. He’s slept all day but he’s still exhausted. He’s also worried about keeping Minho up, knowing that he worked all day.

“Maybe. Do you want to lay down again?”

Kibum nods, then adds “But I don’t really want to be alone.”

Minho looks out into Kibum’s room and Kibum’s worried that he’ll just leave him be again.

“Why don’t you come sleep in my room? My bed is bigger, so we could put pillows or something in between us. Then you’re not alone and I don’t keep getting up to check on you. I’ll be right there if you need me.”

Kibum looks at the floor, tilting his head.

“I...I think I’d like that. If it’s okay,” he says, looking up at Minho.

“Are you ready to move or do you need a bit?”

Kibum attempts to stand, but it’s clear that he isn’t strong enough for it. He reaches out for Minho who catches him. Kibum tries again to stand and move a few times but after a minute or two, Minho simply carries him from one room to the other. It takes Kibum by surprise, but in a pleasant way. Minho sets him down on the side of the bed nearer the bathroom then goes back to get Kibum’s pillow and things, grabbing all the extra pillows he has to put in between them. Once Kibum’s settled and the pillow wall is made, he goes to shower. As he lays in wait for Minho to get back out, Kibum does his best to reflect on things. Before he can get started, Minho’s already done.

“My bed not as comfy as yours?” Minho asks when he comes back into the room.

“I was waiting for you to get back. If you’re going to let me sleep in your bed with you, I can at least wait til you’re in it to sleep. Now that you’re out I make no promises though.”

Minho laughs at the response and gets into bed.

“Thank you for taking care of me today,” Kibum whispers as Minho turns off the light main light. He’s grateful for the nightlight that Minho found, though he’s not sure he’ll be able to get up by himself later to really need it. He reaches his hand out onto the pillow wall, hoping that somehow Minho realizes that it’s there.

“You’re welcome. I can confidently say you’re the best patient I’ve had to take care of so far, seeing as you just slept most of the time and didn’t throw anything at me.”

“No one’s ever taken care of me like this before so I just tried to do what seemed easiest for both of us.”

Kibum feels Minho’s hand find his, and he’s content. Eventually, Minho starts humming a tune. It’s incredibly soothing and somehow sounds familiar.

“What song is that?” Kibum asks when Minho reaches the end of it.

“A lullaby my mom used to sing to me when I would get sick. If it’s bothering you I can stop.”

“No, no. It’s...nice, actually. I like it. Your voice is nice. All of you is nice. Especially your personality and your hair.”

Kibum wants to say more but he stops himself; he is fevered, after all, and he doesn’t want to say too much that he’ll regret whenever he gets better. As Minho keeps singing, Kibum realizes that the only reason he can’t see him is because his bangs are in the way. He shifts his head around, trying to move them out of the way, and his heart flutters when Minho reaches over and brushes them away for him. Slowly he falls asleep to Minho’s humming.

When he wakes up again, it’s morning; there’s sunlight pouring in from the open blinds. He looks over to see Minho still sleeping and smiles. He watches Minho’s chest rise and fall, and in a moment reaches an epiphany. Since they’d met, Kibum had felt drawn to Minho. No one else had ever given him such a feeling of peace and belonging before and he’s been trying to figure out why he’s been willing to trust him to such a degree in so little time. The sunlight is just enough to soften his features and give him the appearance of a halo. There’s a warmth in his chest, and realizes that for him, in this moment, it’s love.

[jess951000]

I know I write a lot of these and I know Taylor may never see them, but if she does I want to say thank you for helping me get through all of the things mentioned in this post.

First grade is my earliest memory of being bullied. I was bullied by my teacher. She kept me out of story time and made me clean my desk instead. She kept me from show and tell and made me clean my locker. I have the agenda book where I wrote how sad and out of place I felt...mostly with sad faces. We had to show how we felt each day. I wrote sad faces.

I was home schooled for second grade and felt left out because my brother and sister went to school everyday. It was tough. I was diagnosed with ADD and Bipolar Disorder when I was 5. Mild Retardation Disorder when I was 6 or 7. I learned how to read in kindergarten but was set back in first grade due to how I was treated and relearned when I was being homeschooled. I have a just below average IQ. My deficits are with math and problem solving. I'm 22 years old now but when I was 18 I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety and told my bipolar was gone.

In third grade I was put in a school for special needs kids. They didn't teach me anything so I was put back in mainstream school and kept in third grade. I made friends at the special needs school. A nonverbal girl and an autistic boy. In mainstream I didn't have many friends. I made a friend with a girl who was really screwed up. She thought it would be okay to hit my sister over the head with a 2×4 piece of wood. I never saw her again after that. That was in 3rd grade. In 4th grade I was friends with a girl who was a bad influence again she tried to glue the doors to lockers together and then when I proved to be a goodie two shoes she dropped me as a friend.

In 5th grade is where the real problems started. I was alone. I felt helpless. It was my first day of middle school and 2 girls who happened to be sisters asked if I wanted to be their friend. I said yes. I was desperate for friends. They were goth. Wore all black and one of them had piercings already. I was invited to their house. We hung out for about 3 months. They had other friends and whatever that didn't like me too much. They walk up to me in one of the classes the three of us shared together after talking to their friends and said I was too weird and I couldn't hang around them anymore then walked away. I pretended I was okay when I was hurting inside. I was alone the rest of the year waiting for summer to come.

6th grade..it was time to sign up for the school musical. I decided to do it since my sister was doing it too. First day of rehearsal a girl walks up to me and starts talking as if we are already best friends. At first I paid her no attention because I thought she was talking to one of the many other people around me but I soon realized no one was looking at her and she was looking at me. I asked her if she was talking to me. She said yes who else? I was shocked and excited. My self esteem by this point was so low that when I walked down the hallway I would literally look at the floor. I didn't want to see the people who made fun of me. I would keep walking and not look up. This girl pulled me out of my slump for a little while. She introduced me to a few people who I became friends with also. We hung out together all the time. We went to eachotjers houses. I felt that I finally fit in somewhere.

8th grade has a bit of a backstory that starts in 7th grade. So here it goes. .In seventh grade people talked about this horrible teacher. She was so mean and horrible that anyone who had her class was doomed to a year of torment. I thought being a good kid and all that it was no big deal. She was a special education teacher which I didn't know at the time. In computer class she ended up subbing because that was her free period and out teacher had an emergency or something. She screamed at me for being off task when I was not off task. I was so speechless another student had to tell her that I was on task. She singled me out for no good reason. As soon as I got off the bus to go home I started balling my eyes out. I was always a good kid to avoid that kind of confrontation. Remember earlier I was too much of a goody two shoes. I still was by this point. I kept my head down and got through the day. I begged my mom not to let me have this teacher. I cried and when I finally got my 8tb grade schedule I was so excited. I didn't have her. Then my mom had to throw a fit about me not having a special education classes. The teachers said they didn't think I needed it that year. I was doing just fine on my own. I never had to ask for help. I was Good. My mom Insisted. I got my new schedule and of course that teacher was on it. I go to school thinking it can't be too bad. She won't be that mean all the time. It was just a misunderstanding. I was so wrong it's not even funny. First day of class when your supposed to hand in certain forms and things. My mom forgot to sign mine and I got screamed at for it. It was not in my control. Then I get screamed at again for taking too long on my quiz to see how much I remember from last year. It was math so that's why it took so long. It was in my IEP which is documentation stating special accommodations for special needs students that I was allowed to just walk out of class to use the restroom and that I was allowed to bring my computer to class to take notes. She never read it. She screamed at me for both. My mom then sent a note stating she isn't allowed to scream at me because i was going home early for hyperventilating. She threw it in the trash and screamed at me for giving her fake notes. My mom then had my psychiatrist write a note. She did the same thing. She then got told by other parents that this teacher was deliberately bullying me and that they recommend pulling me out of the school I was in. So she did. I was put in online school for 2 years. It was twice as hard and I was not a self motivator so it was hard on my mom too.

8th grade also my mom got told by my best friends mom that she was moving her daughter to a different school because I was too different to be her friend. Her exact words were "My daughter needs better friends and yours isn't a part of that" when she went to that new school she made new friends and didn't want to hang out as often and eventually broke off contact with me. I still had my 2 other friends but she was my closest friend.

10th grade I go back to regular school and was put in a lunch with 7th and 8th graders who were moved to our school because the elementary school closed down. I went to the guidance counselor and asked to be moved to the lunch where my friends were. She did me a favor and let me be transferred. We had A B C and D lunch. I was moved from C to D lunch. My "friends" put their bags on the seat, had other people sit by them, etc etc. To keep me from sitting near them. I started running to lunch to be able to sit by them. It worked. The next red flag that they weren't my friends anymore but pretending to be was when I invited everyone to a cook out in 11th grade and they all said they would come and so I set everything up on the day and was waiting. 5 minutes til the time I said everyone cancelled. "Oh I have period cramps" "Oh I can't make it my mom has a thing" that sort of thing. They lied to me and didn't come. I was so upset. I sat at the table surrounded by the food and snacks and cried. One of those friends wanted me to help plan her birthday party but I wasn't allowed to be there. I was allowed to plan it but I wasn't allowed to come. That was low.

For senior prom one of my friends was talking a few weeks before about getting a limo. A week before she told me there was no limo and we would meet at prom. I get there and meet with them. Prom was on a boat. They had tables set up some for people and some just there with table cloths. We chose a table that sat only 4 people. Both my friends had dates but I did not. I suggested pushing tables together. There was an unoccupied table next me. Their response was oh no we can't there might be someone sitting there. There was no silverware. No purses. No bags. No indication that anyone could sit there. I just said ok fine and pulled up an empty chair to the end and their table. Later that night my zipper broke on my dress. I asked for one of my friends to find the t4acher who we knew to have Bobby pins and clips for this kind of disaster because if I stood up my everything would be showing. They threw a fit "why can't you do it yourself" "why don't you go sit with your sister" "why did you come without a date" my dress was falling apart...my sister was sitting with her friends doing her thing...i didn't think having a boyfriend was that important...unlike my one friend whose mom set her up with a total stranger.....hmmmm....i Then later found out both my friends came in a limo....imagine that there was a limo....i confronted them about it and was told it was a surprise...nothing personal. I called bs because she had been talking about it for weeks...i was alone the rest of the year. We graduated...i went to the local community college for a year and a half. One of my former friends was there and we talked some but after that we haven't. I didn't have any friends. After college because it didn't work out. I flunked out because of the math. I spent too much time on it only to fail math and a few other classes. I spent 2 years in bedroom in my parents house watching tv and wondering where I belonged in life.

My mom then when I turned 22 convinced me to join this special needs bowling group. I met a lot of people there and became friends with them. Everyone had different abilities and deficits and I liked this group because it focused on the abilities. My whole life everyone focused on what needed to be fixed or worked on with me and I finally found people that cared about what I could do. Then one day that all changed when one of the girls who I'm not blaming because she gets facts twisted in her mind and they get turned negative told her mom that I called her a lesbian. I did not say anything like that to her but her mom believed her. I had one other girl who was there back up what I said. This girls mom started saying that I was doing all these horrible things. She said I was saying mean things about her daughter and some other girls. She got a bunch of other parents behind her including a leader of another group I joined after the bowling group. I was shunned from the group. I stopped being invited to events. I was blocked by most of the people. The friend that backed me up became and still is my only friend. She almost got kicked out of the group herself just for backing my story. I was shunned. I lost a bunch of friends.

The adults in my life have been the ones who did the most harm to my wellbeing. After that last incident I decided not to care what others thought anymore because I know the truth. I know who I am. I give Taylor swift most of the credit for helping me through all of this crap because right after my last bout of bullying she came out with look what you made me do and it made my life so much happier. It helped me to move on and to be better. I still go to bowling. I still see these people but I'm not angry anymore. I am bashing their hate with total kindness and so far I've been getting snotty looks from the moms but no one had said or done anything. I'm still talking to my friends even though I can't hang out at their houses and be as close as we were their moms can't say anything without looking bad. As long as I am nice and kind...which I am anyway...there is nothing they can do. I'm using Selena Gomez quote "kill em with kindness" and Taylor swift "shake it off" "look what you made me do" I am thriving and there isn't a person out there that can bring me down!

[kumikirin]

Dear @dotingdamen tagged me like thirty years ago in this thing but then Midterms happened, and then life and so uh… here, you get ten random things about me + a selfie bc we all know y’all wanna see my current hair color.

1st Random Thing! I am a very healthy person in everything referred to acute illnesses, but when it comes to chronic stuff I’m like an old lady trapped in a 22 yo’s body: my knees are fucking destroyed and make this awful cracking noise and hurt if I spend too much time with my legs in the same position, I have this weird pain in both arms that sometimes keeps me from moving them around too much bc lifting them hurts, and I also have a lipoma in the back of my right hand that sometimes gets bitchy and decides to hurt. Oh and I have Spring Allergy yay, developed it a couple of years ago.

2nd Random Thing! I made a huge effort to finish studying my seven years of English at the same time I finished high school. I wanted to get all my degrees by the time I finished school bc I knew it would be a hassle to go on studying a language at the same time I went to college, so I crammed the last four years in two, meaning I did fourth and fifth English years together, and the next year I did sixth and seventh. I was top of my class thre out of those four years and I’m proud, bc that was a big sacrifice for me. I was all day at school and then headed to English class and came back home at like nine pm. Kinda had a small breakdown bc of the stress in the middle of it all and ended up changing schools lol (best decision ever tbh).

3rd Random Thing! I travelled around Europe for a month when I was sixteen, and I started my pocket watch collection then. I bought a watch from every country I visited, except England. I have eleven so far, and my favorite is probably the one I bought in Pisa, Italy ❤

4th Random Thing! I used to be That Weird Kid in elementary school and high school. I’m quite patient and don’t like confrontations, and I like to think people are good and give them the benefit of the doubt, but because of all that I was constantly being picked on and used by my classmates. So one day I decided I didn’t need people in my life, at least not that people, and from then on I would print stuff to read at school, or take a book with me, so during break I’d sit somewhere outside and read quietly. It was really nice, tbh.

5th Random Thing! Related to the previous point, I became very good at deciding when I should keep a person in my life or not. If you’re disrespectful and insufferable, you’ll drain my patience pretty quickly, and that’s how I know you don’t deserve to be in my life. May sound bitchy but I do like that about me, saves me a lot of trouble, and quite honestly it’s not that easy to make me lose all my patience so if you manage to do it, dude, you’re b a d. You literally have to be super self-absorbed and never listen to me and show little to no interest in my life and wellbeing.

6th Random Thing! I’m kind of an artsy person, in the sense I find my peace in doing manual stuff. I’ve always liked drawing, painting, modelling with clay and porcelain, working with wood, even sewing. Whatever thing that implies using my hands to produce something relaxes my mind, that’s why I’m trying to get back to drawing. I used to participate in art galleries and expos when I was younger.

7th Random Thing! And since we’re talking about art, seventh random thing will be the fact that I was recently featured in an Erotic Art Expo and it was a really great, fun experience. 10/10 would do it again. A pic of me standing beside my expo pic even made it to the local newspaper lol and I look great, mind you.

8th Random Thing! When I was born, my aunt called me “bat” (yes very sweet of her), and it became one of my many childhood nicknames. Turns out she was right, bc now I’m as blind as a bat. Nice, aunt.

9th Random Thing! Literally all of my friends expected me to be a Ravenclaw because I’m so nerdy about stuff I like, and I love reading, and as I said before I was That Weird Kid who chose reading over socializing, and also probably bc people usually think Ravenclaws are serious, calm and collected and I’m like super serious at first sight (though I’m actually super random and stupid, just ask Eve). But I turned out to be a Hufflepuff and, to be honest, I’m really comfortable with it and also proud, and I truly believe that’s my place. Hufflepuff is a great house, and I get really offended when people stick up their noses and laugh at me when I say I’m a Huffie. I take this really seriously, guys. It’s fucking offensive >:c

10th Random Thing! I’m really scared of dogs, even tiny ones that could only bite my ankles. I can’t stand it when a dog I don’t know looks at me. I even have an audio of me having a breakdown over dogs lol bc I was walking down the street while sending an audio to some friends and I forgot to stop recording while the dogs barked at me so yeah, it’s there somewhere and I laugh every time I listen to it.

There u go my pals, that’s me coming back from my field practice. It was windy and cold but I had cool hair so everything was good (it actually has a lot of purple but you can only see my front locks here lol)

Uhhh fuck now I have to TAG PEOPLE omg the worst part uhh let’s see @aftgonice @rayrayswimusic @madamredwrites @stillherewhileimgone @life-is-str4nge @gutgemacht I DON’T KNOW GUYS just uh do it if u wanna and tag me okay I’m serious I’d love to know any new stuff about anyone, not just the people I tagged here c:

[be-a-good1]

Coming Out Story

Here I am, 27 years old and I was the absolute last person to find out I was gay. This blog is mainly a mind dump for me and hopefully becomes a sounding board for others who may be going through this too.  So, here we go... 

These things are always hard to start off, so I’ll start with the memory of elementary school.  I remember clearly having the resilience of a child, falling and scraping my knees.  If we do it now it’s the WORST, but back then, the scrapes were just a part of growing up.  Everything was just okay when we were swinging on the swing sets, playing basketball, soccer, or tag. No one really had a label in elementary school (at least none that I can remember). Thinking back, some of my best friends were boys.  Mainly because I loved sports, not to mention literally every time a girl screamed because a basketball or soccer ball whizzed by their face, I just wanted to smack them. Things started to change when I got into 3rd or 4th grade.  Girls in my school started talking about kissing boys, and that interested me.  I wanted to try it out, so me and a few of my friends thought, “Why don’t we practice kissing on each other that way when the time comes to kiss a boy we will be prepared?” I remember one friend and I would kiss just to kiss when we were by ourselves.  To me, this was innocent fun. I felt like I was on top of the world, and I honestly really enjoyed making out with my friends.  

In 4th grade, I remember talking to a boy. We were kind of seeing each other at the time, mainly communicating through notes passed secretly during class time. One day, a note with “Do you like me, check yes or no” fell on to my desk. I got ballsy and sent a note back with, “will you kiss me and I'll let you know...” written on it. I remember feeling super nervous and excited about this transaction.  He said yes, and days were spent concocting a plan to meet on the field during recess. Teachers at the time were extremely watchful of guys and girls together on the playground, so we had to be extremely careful. I was so nervous, and had convinced myself that if kissing girls gave me a ton of butterflies in my stomach, that kissing boys was going to rock my world. The time finally came when we got our chance to kiss.  We had our friends poised as lookouts for teachers or other kids that would mess up our fragile plan. He leaned in, and my lips touched his. Everything that I had built up in my head just shattered.  I felt absolutely nothing.  Actually, I felt cheated.  It was nothing against him, he was a very sweet boy. It just did not even compare to the way it felt to kiss my friends.

During 5th grade, I remember talking to my mom about girls. I was very careful not to reveal my attraction to them (see as how I would be severely punished if she found out), but I would comment on how other girls were pretty. As soon as I said anything, my mother would tell me that it was okay to acknowledge the beauty of another woman but that was the line. She made it clear that OUR family will not have a homosexual in it, and I was told that I wasn’t allowed to live that lifestyle.  Being gay and bringing someone of color home were equal acts of transgression in my parent’s household. My mother and father raised me in a very Southern Baptistä household.  The Pastor of the church that we attended was my father's best friend throughout High School.  It's funny looking back at that friendship because I had always heard about my father’s wild past deeds. I would try to get out of going to this church because I felt like the teachings were ancient, and if God loved everyone, why is it not okay for me to like who I wanted to like? My parents would tell me that being gay was wrong, that it was a horrible sin. I was told that I would go to hell if I even kissed the same sex or had feelings for the same sex. I was also told that one of two things would happen if I told him I like girls. 1: They would beat me until I realized that it was wrong, or 2: My dad would go to prison because he would kill me. Obviously, that instilled a sense of fear in me that has lasted many years. I cut ties with all of my friends and denied sleepover invitations.  I tried to get away from it all. Being an only child put a lot of pressure on me to absolutely avoid anything that could make my parents disappointed in me.

6th grade began and all of my “best friends” from elementary school were now scattered around in different friend groups.  What we used to do is kept a careful secret because we were in middle school now, and everybody was fearfully avoiding getting labeled. While in 6th grade, I remember meeting this one girl.  We became best friends after hanging out all summer long. She had a pool, and would always invite a bunch of friends over to swim. After swimming in the pool, we would all end up stripping off our wet suits and shower the chlorine off together. One day, I leaned in and kissed her while we were hanging out. She was taken aback, but ended up kissing me back. The next week, she told me her parents were moving to Florida, and of course she was going with them.  Her parents told her to exchange emails with me to keep in touch, but we never did. I felt like that was a sign for me, that God was punishing me. I couldn’t talk about this with my parents, however, because I feared how they would react. So instead of acting on this opportunity, I swept it under the rug and pretended like it never happened.

           In 7th grade, I had my first ‘real’ boyfriend.  My mom was a school bus driver and he was on her route. We lived deep in the country, and I would ride to and from school with her because no school busses went as far out as we lived. I remember holding hands in the back of the bus, meeting up behind the stage in the gym and making out during lunch.  It was fun to pass the time, but I honestly felt nothing by it. I knew this is what he wanted, and I just liked the company. We were broken up by the end of the eighth grade.

           High school was the worst, especially in a Podunk town where everyone seems to be aware of what you do even before you do. You cannot do anything without your parents getting a call from another adult so that, by the time you got home, a sufficient punishment was already laid out for you.

I think high school marked my worst era of depression.  My hatred for myself and where I lived caused me to think about ending my life several times throughout the course of high school. I started cutting, only scratches at first. Then, I realized the pain was something I could control, and it went on that way. I met my best friend because of this, but still felt like I had to hide my past from her because I didn’t want her to think I was hitting on her. I just wanted and needed a friend.  She was the exact opposite from me, preppy and popular, and exactly the type of girl I hated earlier in my life. However, if I hadn’t had her friendship, I don’t think I would have made it out of high school.

I think one of the hardest times I had was when I lost my grandfather (I call him Papa) on my mother’s side. I remember spending all of my time at his house on the weekends when I was growing up. I thought Papa and Nanny were the cutest.  He was the hometown mechanic and she was a volunteer at the local hospital.  She would always take me shopping, except unlike my parents, she would tell me to get whatever I felt comfortable in. Usually, this meant jeans and t-shirts instead of the frilly dresses that my mom and dad favored. Occasionally, my Nanny would buy me dresses for holidays to keep my parents happy. I definitely did not have a say when it came to what I wore for family photos.

One day, Papa took me out to buy an Easter dress to wear to the upcoming Easter service. Nanny was busy at the hospital that day, and my parents had to work. I found this awesome Adidas track suit in the department store that I fell in love with immediately. Papa bought it for me, along with some jeans and sneakers for me to wear. HE dropped me off at home later, no dress to show for the day of shopping we did. He was promptly chewed out by both of my parents. His response sticks with me to this day, “Let her wear what she wants to, if I had gotten her a dress she would have wore it for an hour and we’d never see it again.” This was very true, as over the years I came up with many creative ways to make my dress clothes magically disappear. This day will always be one of my favorite memories of him.

When I found out he had passed, I wanted to so very much go with him. He died outside while he was working on a car, from what seemed to be a heart attack. After it happened, Nanny couldn’t bring herself to stay at the house for a little while, so I was given the task of dropping by their house and grabbing whatever she needed.  I would get there and lay down where they found him.  I just wanted to know what happened. How did he feel before? Did he know he was dying? Was he in pain? Did he think about us?  Why did God do this, why did he take him away? How high up in the sky is heaven?  Is it even there? I would lay there, angry, thinking about how nothing else mattered. The one man who stood up for me is gone.  If he were here today, I am sure he would have accepted me and loved me unconditionally.  He may not have agreed with it, but I know he wouldn’t be punishing me for being myself.  

Fast forward to my freshman year of college. I was finally getting a grip on the semester when I got a call that my Nanny was being rushed to the hospital. Within two days we found out that she had colon cancer, and they told us she had two months to live.  Those two months ended up being two weeks, and that caused me to lose the last bit of me that I had a grip on.  I lost hope within myself and trusted no one. One day, while laying where they found my Pops, I promised him that I would take care of her. I felt like I failed him even though I knew wasn’t my fault.  Nanny had grown more and more on me. After Pops died, I made sure her car was washed, lawn was cut and helped around the house.  I felt like I was needed and appreciated. Now, nothing felt real to me anymore and the only thing that felt right was depression. I felt bad for my mother, who I vividly remember yelling “I’m an orphan” after Nanny passed.  I was mad at the nurses, the doctors, I blamed everyone including myself for our loss, and I felt so very alone.

The rest of college was semi okay for my mental health.  I moved out from my parent’s house and got an apartment near campus.  I started working at this little seafood restaurant near my apartment.  My father told me that he would pay for my apartment if I wanted to quit work and focus on school more.  I didn’t want to, I wanted to focus on being self-sufficient, but school became too much for me, so I accepted his offer. After a year of still being under his thumb, I began to feel more and more repressed around my parents. The fact that I depended on them made me feel worse.  

College really opened my eyes.  Even though I was in a very small technical college, the professors were very liberal and very open about it.  It was different to go from a high school where every teacher was a devout Republican and where every student knew you to a school full of people that did not get in your way or in your business.  I think it was a kind of a mutual understanding that we were all there to do our time and get out into the “real world”.  During college, I found an outlet in music, and I met a guy whom I ended up dating for over eight years. Looking back at it now, I laugh because I never really knew how gay I truly was.  Him and I started a band that traveled to SXSW and went on 3 successful month-long tours that traversed the United States.  I grew a lot with him and a lot more without him. I regret nothing when it comes to being in that relationship because if I didn’t go through that, I wouldn’t be where I am today: happy and so, so healthy.

I started waitressing at a local pizza joint to save up some money for tours and biIls. I’m not going to lie, was depressed.  I felt like I wasn’t me, like the skin I was in just wasn’t made out for me. I remember wanting to end it all.  Every relationship I was in with friends, family and myself, felt fake.  Everything felt like a movie that I was watching and not able to live out myself. Anxiety was bad because that was the time I felt the most in my skin and that alone is never healthy.  I was self-sufficient, nice new car, was touring the country and playing music.  But for some reason I was missing something, myself.  Something changed though, I met her.  

At the time, I was smoking cigarettes occasionally to just stop the stress.  For some reason that took away the pain for me. It was a stressful Friday night at work (Fridays are our busiest days) and I needed to vent to someone, anyone. So, I took a smoke break and Maddy (who also only smoked occasionally) joined me. While we were chatting outside and sharing a cigarette, I felt something.  She listened, she looked me in my eyes when I spoke and she had the best advice. I enjoyed talking with her. She gave me butterflies, and when she spoke it was the sweetest voice I’d ever heard.

At the time, the guy I was with had his own company that wasn’t self-sufficient and I was pretty much the cash cow. I remember bailing him out on a lot of our bills that should have been 50/50.  The band ended up breaking up, that was what hurt the most.  I couldn’t express myself and let go on stage anymore like I needed to. That was my release instead of self-harm. I didn’t want to believe I was being used but she saw it and brought it to light.  We eventually cut it off, he moved out.  I wish him nothing but good and I hope he finds happiness.

A few days later, she invited me to grab coffee at a small coffee shop.  I was sweaty-palms, knee-shaking nervous. Just sitting at the table with our coffee I could feel the tension between us. I invited her back to my place to hang out, and she accepted.  Back at my house we sat on the couch both on separate ends. I was dying to be close to her, every glance she flashed at me made my stomach tie in knots.  After a more nervous hug goodbye, I watched her leave and went upstairs and sat in my closet (the irony, right).  My closet was my safe space, the clothes inside made the room semi sound proof, in a way that made my head feel fuzzy and stopped my thoughts long enough for me to relax. One night I had a few drinks in me and decided to send her a Snapchat.  I told her how she made me feel, I told her she was gorgeous and I really, really liked her. After pressing send, I turned my phone off and back on so many times.  I talked myself into it being okay.  Finally, I saw where she was responding back to me.  I broke out in a cold sweat and I wanted to throw up.  The message popped back up saying she felt the same about me.  If ever there was a fire inside of me, it was now. I wanted nothing but to make her happy.  

The following days we sent risky texts back and forth, learning more about each other as best as we could.  I was so happy learning everything about her. She was the most beautiful creature and so unique, and the more I learned about her, the more I fell for her.

After Several more house dates of watching TV, our pinkies touched and we intertwined them. Instantly, I was in a cold sweat again, my stomach erupting into millions of butterflies.

The first time she kissed me I kicked her out. I was such a fool.  I had something so perfect in front of me and all I could think about was pleasing other people, instead of being happy.  In my heart, she was the one I wanted but in my head my parent’s words resonated in my head.  Then I thought about it, once I kicked her out she could have easily left and never spoken to me again.  But, for some reason she understood me and what was going on in my head and she broke me down slowly.  The next time she kissed me, I said “Gross”. I was mortified that I had said that. Of course, it didn’t phase her.  The more she came over the more comfortable we got with each other.  It went from casual downstairs pecks between scenes in movies to upstairs with the doors closed and music blasting.  I can 100% tell you that when she kissed me there was no doubt in my mind anymore. I finally felt like I was in my own skin.

Once I asked her to be my girlfriend she didn’t answer me.  She got quiet, and normally I would have just left because I don’t take rejection too well. But she was different, I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to prove to her I could be everything that she wanted.  I asked if she would like for me to leave, and she declined and then finally, FINALLY said she would be mine. The more we saw each other the more open we became.  We both were some pretty toxic people at the beginning, but we worked on bettering ourselves every day for each other. She has a past and that really got to me and occasionally still does but we are both two entirely new people because we work on supporting each other and loving each other every day.

Dating a woman was all new to me. Everything seemed so easy, I never had to explain why I felt the way I did.  She knew it was just a small obstacle I had to get over and she was there to help me if I fall.  When the time of the month came around, she would show up and sit with me as I lay in the tub with the shower going till I felt better.  If something was bothering me she would fight the demons with me till I was able to get my feet back on the ground.

I am happy.  For once I felt like I was in my own skin.  On top of it all, I couldn’t have a better group of friends to accept us so quickly.  They didn’t skip a beat and they love us unconditionally. My parents were a different story.

Throughout all of this I really wanted my parents on board with my new relationship.  It’s not going to come easy but I do have to say, it does get better. I really wanted to talk to my mother face to face but It would have been super hard to do that without my father being there. If I would have spoken to her over the phone, one of two things would have happened.  I would have either chickened out or she would have hung up on me and would not let me speak.   The best way I could have done it would be send her a message. Those were the longest 2 hours of my life.  The first hour of her receiving it, the small typing bubbles popping up ... then going away for the next hour. It needed to be done, though. It felt right, it felt good getting it off my chest.

“Mom, I’m gay.”  

Mom hasn’t been the same since.  Both of my parents were very supportive of me until I “betrayed” them with this lifestyle. As long as I was living “the way God intended”, I could do no wrong in their eyes. I haven’t spoken to my father for close to a year now.  Every time I try to speak to my mother I hear him in the background saying “brainwashed” or calling me a “faggot”. The don’t seem to care that I am happy and healthy. To top this all off, I am the only child.  This past year I was told that I wasn’t allowed to come to any holiday functions.  I missed Thanksgiving with my family, and when Christmas came around, I received a call from my mother, her crying and saying that she wanted to see me. I told her that I could see her and would love to.  She turned down my offer, saying she doesn’t want to see me “like this” and that once I change and “find God” she would welcome me back into her life.

Along with the phone calls from my mother saying I that I have “abandoned her” or that I am “killing her”, I’ve received a Bible, old photos, opened mail addressed to me and personal items from my childhood.  All of this was mailed to me because she does not want to meet up or be near me.  I’ve spent countless hours trying to reach out to her, but instead of an actual conversation, I get her crying over the phone that eventually turns to screams of her telling me how much I’ve betrayed her.  Out of all of this, one line hurt me particularly bad: “I don’t want you to be like this. I don’t wish you were dead, I just wish you never were born.  This isn’t you.  I want my daughter back” It cut me deep, and if I were the person I was earlier, I probably would have killed myself. I’m glad I didn’t come out to them in high school, or I know I would have been kicked out of my house or worse.

Coming out at 26 has been the best year of my life.  At times, I used to look in the mirror and not recognize who I was seeing. Sometimes I would repeat my name to myself because I would be so dissociated that I would think it was crazy that my name was Cassie.

I would say I have some of the best friends ever.  I went from a severely unhappy relationship to the happiest I think I could ever be.  When I came out to them, the reaction I received was either “Are you happy?” or “It’s about time!”  (thanks for not letting me know guys). The best part is, they love Maddy to death.  Friends can be your best family.  If I have learned anything in this journey it’s this, life can and will fuck you over.  Friends will come and go.  Family can sometimes be your biggest support system or your worst enemy.  But, if you can survive the battle of finding yourself and being truly happy with who you are, you will be unstoppable.  Your true friends will always be by your side and support you unconditionally.  Friends are Family and if you are going through this and you feel alone, I’ll be your friend.  I’ll be your family.  Things will get better, I promise.  

If ever you’ve found your soulmate, you know.  Everything stops in the world when you are with them.  Nothing else matter other than the time you are with them.  Everything that they do is just a work of art.  This girl knows me inside and out. She knows exactly how to make me happy in every single aspect and she does it daily.  As I sit here writing this blog, she’s in my bed taking small naps between her school work, and I realize how lucky I am.  She supports me to the fullest, wants to see me succeed, but also takes no shit from me.  She will tell me how it is in a heartbeat.  I hope I can provide for her and give her the queen lifestyle she deserves.  She is always front row when my band has a show.  She is the first person I call when something good or bad happens.  She makes me feel so good about myself.  More importantly she makes me feel like dreams are a reality.  She will not rest until I am happy.  I don’t know where I would be if she didn’t come into my life, but I am so happy she did.

How can a love like this, someone who builds you up, picks you up when you fall and makes you the happiest and healthiest person you’ve ever been, be hated by the people who raised you?  How can the people that said while you were in the womb “I don’t care what it is, as long as they are healthy” be so caught up with a line I will never stop hearing, “it’s Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve”? I will have to admit that growing up under my parent’s law, really made me who I am today. I do not by any means want to call them out on all their wrong doings.  It’s simply an old school generation thing with how they were brought up.  Is it acceptable? No, and it’s not an excuse.  I will have to say despite all that I have said about them in this blog, they use to be very supportive of me on the things that they deemed healthy for me.  They gave me everything I needed growing up, they worked hard to keep food in my belly and the lights on in the house.  For that I would like to thank them for working overtime for me to go on school trips, summer vacations, paying for school lunches, rent, car payments, etc. Thank you for providing for me when I was unable to provide for myself.  They loved me and supported me to the fullest when they could live vicariously through me. That being said, taking care of a child’s immediate needs is only half the job. Loving them and caring for them unconditionally is the second half, and in my opinion, the most important half.

Thank you all for taking the time to read this novel.  I hope it helps someone out there.  Just know that you are perfect the way that you are.  Love is love.  If you find someone and that rocks your world, makes you the happiest you ever thought you could be, and brings out the best in you, that love is between you and them. You are the person that lives your life, no one else can live it for you.

Go out and be happy.    

-Po-z

[trnbrypngnbn]

Hi, my name is Trina, 17 year old girl who chose to left home at a young age. Yes I do have a boyfriend, but that's not just the reason behind. There's a lot more. I do not intend to left home just because my father scolded me about knowing my secret relationship with someone. It's far more than that. And now is the time for me to speak for myself. I lived with my grandma for a long time since I was a baby, she was the one who raised me with so much love, care, affection and a lot more learning in life and about God. I am raised in a family who had a very strong faith. But despite growing up with all of those I grew up being a hard headed girl, not too much but a mild one. What I mean is, I do what I want to do, I tried whats in trend for the kids, for teens. It all started when I reached Grade 5, that's the start where I am courted by boys, but it never came up like a very much problem that time cause my grandma tries to talk to me in a way that I will surely understand what she preach. She will listen to whatever I have to say then after that she will take action to it. Then came my high school days, when I was in first year I am drawn to KPOP, everyone knows I love to dance, again... it all started when I entered a Cover Group, a dance group as you called. Every Saturday or Sunday I will ask for permission to practice at Anda, Intramuros. From Morning till Night because it's just a one day practice every week and yet theres a competition per month at that time so we have to struggle for time management, I am so late in coming back home, I even broke my curfew because of dancing. What hurts the most is, everyone thinks that I am taking drugs, or I am at a gimik, or I am with a boyfriend. To end that up, I let them know who am I with. Yes, it was all stress and I couldn't blame my grandma for that. I love her, but I love my hobby too. But I am studying hard, in fact I'm at cream of the crop section, the section 1. There's nothing to worry about my studies, I never let my Grandma down about it. Time goes by, I am in 3rd year. As far as I remember it was half way that year, my parents came back here in Philippines from Dubai. The same reason, my grandma can't take good care of us because she's stressed and she's getting old. At first, my mom seems to treat us good and with care. I love that feeling, she even takes good care of me when I caught a high fever. But a little time goes by, she became rough. One thing I can't forget that happened was when she slapped me in the middle of a whole court in our school with a lot of classes going on. Everyone was shooked, even I can't do anything but to cry. The reason? I pleaded for her to bring my project that I left in our home. That day was deadline, I was too busy, I have lots of report and projects going on that's why I left that one accidentally. She replied to me "Iresponsable ka kasi." And then she came raging, slapped me infront of my classmates and everyone else. Gladly my sister came with her, she was dragged by my sister to prevent any other misbehavior to happen. It's not that much, but my confidence broke down, ofcourse. After that incident, my classmates repeatedly asks me whats with my mom, whats the problem, and I couldn't tell them. I have a reputation inside the school to keep and it went like that. Patuloy lang yung mga ganitong bagay. Inside our house there is 4 of us. My mom, dad, my sister and me. I am treated as a blacksheep of the family. Right from the start I heard my mom blame me saying, "Di naman kami uuwi dito kung hindi dahil sayo eh. Matigas kasi ulo mo. Ang ganda ganda ng buhay namin sa Dubai, di kagaya dito mahirap kumita ng pera!" I just shrugged and still do my thing. To enjoy, study, and be with people who knows my true personality. When I'm outside, I am joyful yet reserved one. Many people get intimidated to me, and see me like a very good child. Like I don't do anything bad. While inside the house, they think like I am a very bad person. My mom and dad always says, "Wala ka na ngang kwenta, masama pa ugali mo." They're so mad at me for some reason. I graduated 4th year, with honor. Because no matter how bad I look to them, I never forget to study hard. I wanted to make them proud atleast in academics. But I think it's not that much appreciated. I won't be in the honor list if I don't strive for it, isn't it? Yet I never heard them say that they're proud of me. Instead they always threaten me that when I got a bad grade they'll stop me from studying, mag asawa na lang daw ako. Hahaha. I am so pressured. I don't want ro stop. Literally saying, I enjoyed my teen year, but what I am proud of is that I never tried doing drugs, smoking, and bad things such as those. But they always insisted that I do, they even want to get me checked in the hospital. I feel so bad. I REALLY FEEL BAD FOR MYSELF! I am always blamed for something I hated to do. I entered college, a new start for me. My sister planned to help me get into a good and private school, she promised me but I know that it's impossible, but it's okay. Since my parents always had a problem about money, I decided to take an entrance exam test in a state university in able to prevent them from spending money. Kasi in the first place, ako nga daw ang dahilan kung bakit nandito sila sa pilipinas at naghihirap. I studied at Sta. Mesa Manila. By the way, I changed for good, my close relatives like my tita and grandma saw that change from me. Inside the house, I do choirs, I mop the floor, I change bed sheets, I wash dishes from morning till night, I do things man can do, I operate all high tech devices, I do the laundry, I do the shelves, I clean the house, I clean the ref, I fold the clothes, and everything else. I do what ever thing that I can to please them, but I guess that wasn't enough. I'm still the "walang kwentang anak." And aside from that, I studied in a University where there is too much pressure going on. It's not just a school, it's a home for students who can handle a lot of pain in the brain. But my parents thinks that I am in a gimik, that I don't go to school, that I don't study. Everytime I came home from school, my mom would say, "San ka nanaman galing? Lumandi ka nanaman jan sa labas. Maghugas ka na jan, para naman may pakinabang ka." There's just too much going on. I never came home peaceful. I am stressed inside cause I feel like there's no one inside our home that I can talk to after a tiring day. The place where I expected that I can be open and appreciated. I experienced going in school without eating breakfast because there is nothing prepared in the dining. I go to school with a 150 in hand. Including my fare back and forth and the rest for my food. Until every week, that 150 is deducted to 130, 120. How can I survive with that? They don't gave me extra. I always have to ask for it. Before going to school, I asked for my grandma or Tita, or Ate if I can borrow any amount of money to lend me, pandagdag lang sa baon ko. In school, I was always alone. My classmates often see me spacing out. I eat alone, I sit alone, I wait alone, I am always with myself. But my parents think that I have a lot of friends. Akala nila may "barkada" ako, kasi mukha nga namang may barkada ako sa schhol. Yes, I do have few friends. My classmates can prove that. They never really tried to know who I am. They never talked to me without judging a little thing about my shortcomings. Instead they judge me for what I showed them. I admit I never go home straight from school, instead I make myself occupied and happy because I wanted to spend my day without a problem, I play in SM alone, dance, eat when I have spare money, I do what makes me happy, because I know that at the end of the day, I'll come back home with the same problem, the place where I feel so toxic. I am suppressed. I never feel appreciated at home. Just because I show them a side where I'm strong doesn't mean they need to use my potential that much. Aside from that, I have diseases, my spinal column suffers from a dextroscoliosis, I told my parents about it, but they just keep telling me that, "Ipapa check-up ka na lang pag may pera na." Don't shrugged me off, it's not a little defect. Years go by but still nothing happened. But when it's them that's sick, money was all over the place, they can even find ways to borrow money. They were supposed to be the people who'll help me grow, but they don't. They'll supposed to be the people who can understand me. I don't exactly know what to feel anymore. Feeling ko umaagos na lang yung buhay ko sa ganon lang. I do sometimes think that I have mental issues, or emotional problem because of keeping this all inside. I never ever had a chance to speak without being scolded, without hearing unpleasant words. I never ever had a chance to speak where I'm right. They always made me feel I'm wrong. I'm wrong in everything I do. People, I love my parents. We have different ways to show our love. I showed them that but they can't see it because they're blinded by the things I did before that caused them to be where they are now. Before I left, I send a message to my sister about taking care of them including my little sister. I told her not to leave their side no matter what happens because she's the responsible one in their eyes. I told my sister to bear whatever my parents are doing, because out of all people, my sister is the one who can justify what I am saying right now, she's the only one I can lean on when I am done of myself that time. She's the only one who believes in me and of what I am capable of. Sabi nga niya, "Ikaw pa yung mas panganay satin gumalaw." ( I miss you so much Ate. ) Whenever I am near to breaking down, I always seek for my sister's company to tell her how miserable I feel. I told my Ate that maybe, I wasn't the daughter our parents could be proud of.Thats when I left bringing my uncomplete self but bolder, searching for people who can complete me atleast because that's what I never felt. Hinahanap ko yung sarili ko, kung san ba ko talaga dapat lumugar. I wouldn't be this tough if only I did feel that love from my parents. I don't have the family you think I have. Yes people, I may look good, but you don't know how many things are going on in me. At some point in my life, I'm suicidal, I wrote my stuff in Tumblr. I even do wrote a suicidal letter. Hahaha. But my faith that was taught to me prevented that to happen. To teens like me, you're lucky if you have parents who supports you fully and cheers you up. You don't know guys how lucky you are. I'm not trying to ask for sympathy, I just wanted you to know a part of my side. Parents, always remember that caring is different from satisfying your ego of being in parenthood. You we're all designed to love your child unconditionally, understand them atleast, and listen to them, an ear that listens is much better than speaking your preach everytime. Reach out for your child, before it's too late. You may not admit that you're doing the same thing but you'll never know until you ask. Ask them what they feel about you, ask them if there is something you need to improve or change. It's not always your child that needs to fit in. In all forms of relationship, balance is the key. You're not just designed to feed us to grow physically, you need to feed us to grow our individuality, to nurture it. Dictation leads to incontentment, so let them decide for themselves, when they seem to choose the wrong path thats when you need to preach. "Papunta palang kayo, pabalik na kami." Yes that's true but we are in a way different path, once we're born our stories are already written in our hands, you all need to accept that. We are who you showed us to be. Parents will be parents. I didn't ask for you all to believe what I said, but I'm leaving this here. It's your choice to believe or not, whatever you have to say, you're all free to say it. But always think before you speak. I don't intend to trigger you all but this is what it is. I don't want me nor my parents to be bashed, I dont want our personal life to be at stake just like this but I don't have any choice but to speak myself up. This is the only form I can, and the only way I see. I've tried confront and personal talks but it leads to misunderstanding so I leave it all here never to be done again. This is just a part of the story, I repeat. It doesn't end here.

[house-gardinier]

So since I have a lot of people sort of just tuning in, I wanted to go over the plot so far because I tend to vaguely reveal as I go and that might leave a lot of people out of the loop. I’ll also explain how Uluscant and Theo tie into Adelein’s current plot. All of this under the cut:

Past:

Adelein hails from the ruling family of Evermore called House Gardinier, however, when she was born it was only she and her father who remained. Over the years the ambiguous house secretly hid away the fact that there weren’t many members left and Theodore Gardinier was managing to carry out a couple generations worth of rule. Essentially, all you need to know about sole ruling family of Evermore is that they basically turned into the Illuminati (The Order of the Crow) in the 3rd era. When Theodore came back in the 4th, he was subject to brainwashing and forced to harm people under the ambiguous association known as The Order of the Crow that outwardly appeared as protectors of society and an unquestionable authority to Evermore. After a fight, Theodore accidentally managed to kill the current High Lord, his cousin (which is essentially the King of Evermore since they denounced traditional monarchy). The order was impressed and made him High Lord, Theodore begrudgingly accepted but his wearing health, fear of failure, and mental stress brought him to seek Uluscant’s help, who offered him a black book that allowed Hermaues Mora to make a deal with him. What Theodore asked of was fulfilled, and what Hermaues Mora requested in return was also fulfilled as Theodore had no further debt once he married again and had a child. 

Adelein’s mother leaves Theodore once she’s recovered, disregarding a life of luxury and power for reasons unknown. She disappears, and her brother Edmond claims that she never returned home to Fharun, and therefore was murdered. Scandals brew, but Theodore does his best to make sure Adelein is taken care of and given a proper education. She sees him as distant and deeply troubled however, and truthfully he is. Before coming to Evermore almost a hundred years ago, Theodore had given up a lot, including his sanity due to long years passing like hours. Eventually he’s blamed for another murder when Adelein was eleven years old, and she discovered her childhood friend dead and Theo the only one who could possibly have ended her life. Out of sheer anger Adelein kills Theo, takes the black book in his study, and then flees the Evermore manor towards the east. Uluscant stops her in his elven form and happens to have the situation timed well enough that he’s able to actually trade Adelein for a mysterious box. She’s taken by dunmer travelers who are doing work for a Telvanni associate and the priest takes his box to the manor, where he does some things I have not yet written about and will remain spoiler-free. Inside the box is a pristine and perfect quality heartstone that is used to bring Theodore back to life while there was still time, and rehabilitate him physically and mentally. 

Theodore makes a full recovery, but is obviously still burdened by the memories of the past. Adelein is also unaware, and still currently unaware that her father is alive. She’s gone through a few important experiences in Morrowind while living in Blacklight that I hope to write about soon. She gone from lavish living to settling with a lean-to in the slums of the city, but is eventually taken to Solstheim for Neloth to study since the child was discovered to have a black book. She is given a tangible ‘debt’ to work off for a few years as a teenager and then given the freedom to go about her life as she pleased. During this time Adelein traveled to the College of Winterhold to assist a man whom claimed to be writing an important book about the elder scrolls, Septimus Signus. She remained there until Signus exiled himself, and eventually returned to gather her things from Tel Mithryn. Another Telvanni master had caught her attention, one that was a rival to Neloth and had made his home in Skryim. 

Tumblr RP Plots:

Adelein wore out her welcome with the second Telvanni master and eventually traveled Skyrim all the way to the western end of Falkreath to make her home in an abandoned Observatory. This was where I took all the screenshots back when I was using them for graphics, and it’s downloadable on Steam and The Nexus. I spent a good two years on plot regarding this part of her story on tumblr. There are a lot of drabbles and archived RPs, but it all ended in Adelein creating a machine (the Gnosis Machina) to make calculations that could ‘transcribe the transmundane’. She let one person use the machine, Narcisse Bossuet of the noble family of Wayrest, and ended up accidentally dragging her into the same fate as Adelein, making Narcisse a conduit of Mephala whom closely watched Hermaues’s pawn. After some extreme feelings they decided to stay together and eventually developed romantic feelings for each other that played out entirely too long since they were both on the sociopathic spectrum. Adelein accepted her feelings first, but was brought to the realization that it was reciprocated and experienced her first heartbreak that she admittedly overreacted to. Being somebody without a lot of feelings made her react to her first feelings very strongly but it wasn’t just the heartbreak that tore her up, it was the fact that Hermaeus Mora was slowly taking over her consciousness and stifling any ‘empathy’ in an excruciating way.

Adelein also realizes that she’s been followed by crows, but doesn’t realize she’s being spied on by both Narcisse and her father Theodore. Out of spite to Hermaues Mora, she goes on a very dangerous journey and nearly gets herself killed, but Narcisse comes to the rescues and keeps Adelein from completely melding into an eldtritch horror as Hermaeus takes almost full control. Feelings are mutually admitted, and Adelein calms down while her new romantic partner takes her back home to Falkreath. This was where I took a year-long break, ending it on that note. 

Current Plot:

A few months later, and after Adelein has recovered. She’s having thoughts about following Narcisse’s plan to take the throne in Wayrest. She’s now sharing a sense of ambition with the other breton but isn’t entirely convinced that the Gardinier name should be reclaimed as well. Theodore has been patiently waiting in Evermore, as the manor was claimed by a ‘direnni aristocrat’ otherwise known as Uluscant. Of course, being a long time friend of the Gardinier’s (literally since the 2nd era) Uluscant gives the manor to Theodore who lives there in secret all by himself. The man’s stabilized himself but is still a very powerful alteration master who holds a large amount of the house’s secrets in his own mind, making him useful to the Primeval Seeker cult lead by Uluscant. He reveals his mutated form to Theodore and tells the truth about being an Ayleid and his skipping through time while staying in Aprocrypha twice. Uluscant is also Theodore’s predominant doctor during his return to life, but keeps the dialog open and honest between them out of respect. There is much more that the priest knows about both Theodore and Adelein but he’s taken and oath to let ‘Fate play out’ and deposited those memories into his own Gnosis Machina (the original owner of one, and Adelein unwittingly used his ideas). 

Theodore is also able to share the vision of crows (which is a Gardinier specific spell), and the flocks of Evermore appear to act on his will to seek her out and assure that she is well. For years he watches over her, never too closely but just to make sure he know’s she safe despite the fact that she still loathes him and would not appreciate knowing that her father was still alive. During this time Theodore see’s Mychen-Zel, a former love of his that he had to leave behind. Between that and the clues he’s receiving that she’s looking to partake in the political affairs in High Rock, Theo musters the courage to secretly visits Adelein’s tower to drop off a journal and possibly try to meet Mychen-Zel in Skyrim to apologize and assure his lover that he was still alive and needed him. After staying in Markarth for a month or so, Mychen-Zel spotted returning to the tower after Theodore delivers a journal that contains important information of House Gardinier that Adelein would need.

Progressing:

This time, Adelein explains to Mychen that her father is dead, after discovering that he knew him. A short and violent episode of grieving away from the tower was quelled once he sent out a crow with the message to ‘meet me in Markarth’. Shortly after, Theodore and Mychen-Zel had an unexpected and emotionally heart-felt reunion in Markarth and went home to Evermore with two important tasks finished.  Uluscant is currently waiting for Adelein to return, while Theodore dreads the day that his daughter will find out that he’s alive. He’s contemplating leaving for Hammerfell momentarily to visit old friends now that Mychen is back, and Adelein is taking a boat to Wayrest with Narcisse. Adelein has left the observatory tower behind and is now living in Wayrest but visiting other local areas between eastern High Rock and Skyrim (while diligently avoiding Evermore). During this time there is a lot of travel between all three of them--Theodore, Adelein and Uluscant, as they wait for their stories to coalesce again and hopefully retake Evermore under the name of House Gardinier once more. 

[trendingnewsb]

These teachers work up to 6 jobs. Now they’re fed up and ready to walk out

(CNN)Craig Troxell steps precariously across a customer’s roof, marking hail damage from yet another Oklahoma storm. He still smells of the freshly cut grass from the swanky side of town, where he had just mowed lawns to make a few extra dollars.

“Teacher morale gets worse every year,” said Troxell, who also drives a school bus before and after school. “I’ve heard a lot of my (teacher) acquaintances walk away and get a different job. They don’t want to do it anymore.”

Why Craig Troxell still teaches in Oklahoma

Oklahoma is among the bottom three states for teacher salaries, where educators often work about 10 years before reaching the $40,000 salary mark. And they haven’t gotten a raise from the state in 10 years.

While educators nationwide have seen slight paycheck bumps over the past decade, when adjusted for inflation, teachers have actually lost 3% of their income from 2006 to 2016, according to the National Education Association.

Recently, the Oklahoma teachers’ union called for $10,000 teacher raises, $5,000 raises for support staff and more than $200 million for education funding.

Lawmakers agreed on an average teacher raise of $6,100, $1,250 for support staff and a $50 million increase in education funding — a measure Gov. Mary Fallin signed into law Thursday.

But many teachers say it’s not enough. So on Monday, Troxell and thousands of other teachers will walk out — prompting some schools to shut down indefinitely.

“We’re at the end of the rope,” Troxell said.

He’s far from alone. Several teachers told CNN they’re working multiple jobs in food delivery, retail, rideshare driving, restaurants and even surrogate pregnancy to pay the bills. Some now rely on a food bank to feed their own children.

The teacher with six jobs

Almost every morning, Jonathan Moy’s two daughters ask him the same heartbreaking question:

“Are we going to see you today?”

He gets visibly emotional thinking about how many days he tells them no.

“It’s really tough when your daughters get sad because you tell them you’re not going to see them,” said Moy, 40. “And it almost breaks your heart, because it’s not their fault. It’s not my fault. It’s the situation that we’re in.”

Moy teaches high school algebra, drives a school bus in the afternoon, coaches football and wrestling, umpires Little League baseball and drives for rideshare services.

All of that combined, Moy said, brings home about $36,000 a year after taxes.

“Last night I drove Lyft and Uber for six, seven hours,” Moy said. “When you have to do that to help supplement your income, it’s tough when you don’t get home when your kids go to bed.”

But he fights off the exhaustion by the time the bell rings at Yukon High School, just west of Oklahoma City. As 32 teenagers fill his classroom, Moy’s demeanor is as cheerful as the yellow and blue lights strung all across his ceiling.

“Half of teaching is having them just enjoy coming into school,” Moy said. “If you can actually get them to enjoy coming into your classroom with your atmosphere, your jokes or just having a good time, that’s half the battle.”

When explaining a new algebra concept, Moy draws analogies to jelly beans and tacos. He plays “Hotel California” and “Roll With It” as students practice factoring polynomials.

Moy’s unorthodox style has paid off.

“I was looking at your STAR (standardized) test we took,” he told his class of mostly freshmen. “You started the year at a 7th grade level. Now you’re above a 12th.”

Freshman Zach Ennis said Moy has made algebra easier to learn.

“I really like him, he’s a really good teacher. He explains stuff really good,” Ennis said.

Ennis said he supports his teacher walking out next week, even though he might have to make up school days in the summer.

“It’s kind of sad that he has to do that many jobs,” Ennis said. “He should be able to concentrate just on teaching.”

What drives Jonathan Moy to stay in education

Moy said he wants to keep teaching in Oklahoma, where he was born and raised. But he and his wife Kendra, who’s an elementary school teacher, can’t understand why educators in their state are paid so little compared to neighboring Texas and Arkansas.

“The salary in Fort Worth (Texas) is starting at $51,000 to work at Fort Worth public schools,” Moy said. “In Oklahoma, the starting pay is $31,000. And even if you’ve been teaching 25, 30 years, it’s really tough to get to that level of income as a teacher.”

Despite their meager incomes, the Moys said they spend a combined $2,000 on their classrooms each year — including crayons and glue sticks for Kendra Moy’s 3rd grade students. At her school, the entire student body qualifies for free or reduced lunch.

Their 10-year-old daughter Karlie said she wishes her dad could go to more of her basketball and softball games. But she understands why he keeps teaching and working so many jobs.

“I just want him to do what he likes,” she said. “He’s just trying to help our family out.”

The teacher who’s also a surrogate mother

When Allyson Kubat started teaching at Mustang High School, the school had no debate program.

Just three years after launching one, Kubat’s getting ready to take her undefeated debate team to the most elite tournament this June.

“We’re going to nationals this year, which is kind of crazy,” said Kubat, 29.

It will be her final act as a teacher.

“I decided, as hard as it is, that next year I’m not going to be teaching anymore,” Kubat said.

She realized the 60 to 90 hours a week she works to support her kids meant that she rarely got to see her kids. The epiphany came when her 9-year-old daughter called her after school one day.

“She said, ‘Mom, are you coming home today? Or are you going back to work?’ Because I leave work (at the school) and I go to my second job, or my third job, and I don’t get home until she’s in bed or almost in bed.”

Kubat’s other jobs include event coordinating, food delivery and surrogate motherhood — a venture that puts a significant strain on her body but pays more than her teaching salary of about $33,000.

“One of my students asked, ‘So what’s your other job?’ Because the kids in this state know that their teachers are not just teachers,” she said. “They know that we have to do something else to survive.”

Her husband, Clint, is an office manager who doesn’t make much more than his wife’s teaching salary. Before she started her second surrogate pregnancy this week, he said, the couple had already budgeted for that income.

After this school year, Kubat will become a full-time event planner — a bittersweet move, given how passionately she loves teaching.

“It is hard to give up what I’ve worked so hard to become,” Kubat said. But she’s tired of sacrificing crucial family time for teaching.

“It’s time to stop being a martyr.”

The rookie teacher and waitress

By 8 a.m., Jennifer Winchester is teaching language arts to 5th graders. By 8 p.m., she’s hoisting trays of enchiladas at a Mexican restaurant.

As a first-year teacher, Winchester “always understood” she would struggle financially.

“In college, they would show us the pay increments … from zero to 25 years,” Winchester said.

She said a guest speaker came into her college class and “literally begged us to stay in Oklahoma,” telling prospective teachers to think of the kids and realize “it’s not their fault.”

So Winchester pursued her passion, even if it meant moonlighting as a server to help pay the bills.

“I can remember back in the 4th grade, my teacher told my mom at a parent-teacher conference, ‘If she doesn’t become a teacher, I’ll be very disappointed.’ Even in the classroom, I’d help other students,” Winchester recalled.

Now, as a professional teacher, she again finds herself going the extra mile for students. Despite her $31,000 teaching salary, she spent about $1,200 getting her classroom in shape for this school year, buying new shelves and books and replacing worn-out desks.

“I tried to stop tracking those receipts, because it depresses me,” she said.

Why Jennifer Winchester wants to keep teaching

Winchester’s long-term goal is to be a high school counselor. But she doesn’t want to take on a master’s degree in counseling until she’s paid off her $23,000 in student loans.

For now, she’s hoping her nearly 10-year-old car “with as many dents as you can find in it” doesn’t break down, since that could spell financial disaster.

She fantasizes about owning a slightly nicer car one day.

“My goal is to have automatic windows and locks,” she said.

The teacher with 2 degrees and 2 mall jobs

Shontée Branton has bachelor’s and master’s degrees in early childhood education. But when she gets to the checkout lane at the grocery store, she has to turn around.

“In my mind, I’m like, ‘What do I need to put back?’ Because I know I can’t afford all of this,” said the 1st-grade teacher at Epperly Heights Elementary.

“Maybe I want the strawberries, but I can make it without.”

Branton, who’s been teaching for nine years, said she makes about $36,000 a year.

She supplements that by tutoring, teaching summer school and working at Macy’s — both on the retail floor and in the human resources office.

“Normally, I leave from the school and go straight to Macy’s and clock in,” she said. ‘”There’s times I leave my house at 7 in the morning, and I don’t come home until 10 o’clock at night.”

That’s when her 3rd-floor apartment looks more like a mountain summit.

“I literally come home and sit in my car for 30 minutes because I can’t muster the strength to go up the stairs,” she said.

Branton said she’s thinking about moving to Texas, where a teacher with her experience and education can earn about $20,000 more a year. But she feels a calling to teach in Del City, where she grew up and where all the students at her school qualify for free or reduced lunch.

“I grew up with a single-parent home; both parents struggled with drug abuse,” she said. “When I see those kids, I see myself. And I had a teacher or two who believed in me.”

Branton said she’s walking out Monday not just for teachers’ raises, but for another key demand: more funding for education in the state. She said she never wants to teach an overstuffed class of 34 students with only 25 textbooks again.

“A lot of people are saying we’re walking out on our kids. And that’s been one of the most hurtful things, because we feel like we’re walking for our children,” Branton said.

“People are expecting us to do a job without the proper resources. And not only is it not fair to educators, it’s not fair to the kids.”

Why Shontée Branton still teaches

So what if she had to choose one or the other — increasing teachers’ salaries by $10,000 or adding $200 million in funds for statewide education?

“It would have to be the kids. I mean, that’s non-negotiable,” Branton said. “Yes, I need more money. I’m tired of working multiple jobs. But in the grand scheme of things, if we educate these kids, then that’s better for society.”

If neither of those demands are fully met, Branton said, Oklahoma could lose yet another teacher.

“If it’s not passed, I probably will leave,” she said. “It would be the hardest choice.”

The state superintendent’s response

Joy Hofmeister says the teachers’ frustration is justified.

“Our teachers are right — they have been underpaid,” the state superintendent said. “We know that the frustration is high, that it’s something that comes after a decade-long reduction to public education funding.”

The Oklahoma teachers’ union wants:

$10,000

raises for teachers

$5,000

raises for support staff, such as janitors and cafeteria workers

$200 million

in education funding

What just got signed into law:

Average teacher raises of $6,100

$1,250 raises for support staff

$50 million

in education funding

But “the legislature can’t reverse in one bill the cuts that have come over a decade.”

She said the main reason why it’s been so difficult to increase spending for teachers and education is because in 1992, the state constitution was changed to require a supermajority approval — 75% of the legislature — before taxes could be raised.

“It’s been 28 years since Oklahoma has raised taxes,” Hofmeister said. “We’ve been operating with the same dollars as 2008, but with more than 50,000 more students.”

She said it’s “unconscionable” that some teachers work three to six jobs to make ends meet.

“Our teachers deserve better,” she said. “And that was answered with this historic teacher pay raise. This is an important step forward. But it’s not the only thing that is needed.”

The food bank that serves teachers

Lori Decter Wright admits there’s a stereotype about those who rely on food banks. Maybe they work at fast-food restaurants. Maybe they got hit with an unexpected medical bill.

Then, starting around 2015, she noticed a shocking trend: teachers, including some with master’s degrees, also needed supplies of cereal, beans and canned vegetables.

“We have teachers near the poverty level,” said Decter Wright, executive director of Kendall Whittier, Inc. — a ministry that runs an emergency food pantry in Tulsa.

“I really had to start asking the question, ‘What is going on in Oklahoma that full-time, working professional teachers have to rely on services like ours to make ends meet?”

Michael Turner is one of the teachers who came in to the food pantry, embarrassed that he needed assistance.

“You’re used to taking care of yourself. No one likes to ask for help, and that’s pretty tough,” said Turner, a recently divorced father of a special needs daughter.

Turner said he “answered a call to action” when he became a special needs teacher.

“There was a big push in the state of Oklahoma to hire veterans to teach special ed at the middle school level,” he said.

“It’s very, very difficult to be a teacher … I knew that it was hard, but teaching today is much more difficult.”

And when he comes home to his own child, he faces the guilt of seeing a kitchen pantry with empty shelves.

Turner says he’s grateful for the food bank’s assistance and regrets not reaching out for help months earlier.

“I always fought the notion that I would be the one asking for services, asking for help,” he said. “I’d much rather be giving it.”

Read more: https://www.cnn.com/2018/03/31/us/oklahoma-teachers-profiles/index.html

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Our first morning in Ireland (30th December) was spent walking a trail to get to Mahon Falls. The falls were located about 30 mins drive inland from our BnB in Dungarvan and sit in a circular valley of steep hillsides. It was beautiful, freezing fecking cold but beautiful. The walk to the falls took about 20 mins over a fairly decent track before people started risking limbs and climbing up the side of the rock face to see the view from the top. Hiking gear not on my side, I made it about half way up before deciding I liked my ankles just fine as they are. About two hours of walking and clambering later we made it back to the car and munched on a mandarin lunch…. not Chinese… literally a bag of mandarins… dollars are tight. Next stop – the town of Cashel and more particularly The Rock of Cashel.

The Rock of Cashel is fortress that housed the kings of Munster for several hundred years before being given by the King Muirchertach O Briain (don’t ask me how to say it) to the church in 1101. Multiple buildings were added over the following century’s and then it unfortunately fell into disrepair as the cost to maintain it became too high. Now a heritage site it is still being painstakingly restored and preserved – the inside is beautiful (despite the cathedrals missing roof) and intricate stone carvings adorn many of the remaining doorways and altar tables. Further down the hill from The Rock of Cashel are the remains of Hore Abbey – I know, weird name. It’s also known as Hoare Abbey or sometimes called St Mary’s (which I found to be a strange alternative given the whole “virgin Mary immaculate conception” thing). Unlike the Rock of Cashel there was no tourist entrance here, just the ruins sitting in the middle of farm land, with a small muddy track leading to it. The remains of the buildings are exquisite, most of the walls are covered in moss and grass and the alcoves and windows house the local bird population. The top of the tower was cut off from the ground level, the steps up into it having fallen apart long ago, and through the narrow tower windows you could glimpse into a room where nature had taken over and a viney green garden had grown. Jim and I tried to find a way to climb up to it but three storeys of deteriorating, slippery rock walls prevented us – that and the fear of breaking all of the bones in our bodies if we fell to the floor of the abbey. Dinner that evening was at a truck stop called Mother Hubbards in Cashel township. We should have known better is all I can say for that meal…

The next morning (New Years Eve) we departed Dungarvan and drove to the City of Cork to drop our stuff off at our next shoebox Airbnb, then drove just out of the city to a town called Midleton, and more particularly to the Jameson’s Distillery. We did a tour of the old whisky distillery, though I have to say the one we did in Oban, Scotland was much better. James was selected as a lucky whisky sampler and got to compare what he thought were three fairly average whiskys; Jonny Walker Red (which he doesn’t like), Jack Daniels (which again, he doesn’t fancy too much), and of course Jameson’s which was just their basic whisky and was okay. Jameson’s won out of course. After the sampling we stumbled to the Jamesons restaurant and were pleasantly surprised by the food – Jim stating it was the best veggie burger he had ever had. We drove from there back into Cork where we unpacked and planned the next few days, and after a couple of hours of relaxing set out for a bar named Oliver Plunkett to welcome in the new year. The music was decent, the first band particularly, and the Hendricks & Soda perfect despite their inital decision to serve it to me in a massive/ridiculous looking wine goblet!?  The new year arrived and soon after we left for home base, stopping for the token hot chip dinner on the way.

New Year’s Day and our heads were pounding like so many others around the world. We lay in bed until mid-day, then walked into town for a very late lunch. Coqbull was a burger joint that offered up a tasty selection of boutique burgers and good music. Chicken with habanero chilli mayo and bacon, or Jims choice of a beef burger with jalapeños, pickled onions and a chilli jam. After our late lunch/dinner we walked around Cork township and then back to our warm beds – town was closed up and we were tired.

2nd of January we were moving again – we packed and left Cork, bound for Abbeyfeale in the County of Kerry (south-western area of Ireland). We took the coastal route down from Cork and made a few stops for photographs, one in particular being the Drombeg Stone Circle, aka the Druids Altar just out of Glandore. Another Stonehenge type megalithic rock formation accompanied by hut and cooking pit ruins from around 1100-800BC. We actually got to walk through the stones and touch them which may not seem like a big deal but after being denied that privilege at Stonehenge it was quite an achievement. From the stones we drove to Bantry, a coastal village where we stopped for wood fired pizza and an epic seafood chowder before continuing our drive until up the coast. The sun was setting by this point and the landscape as we entered the Kerry County was heart stopping. The mountains and hills border the ocean and are covered in grasses, sheer rock faces and forests in a mind-blowing spectrum of colours. We snapped a bunch of photos before the sun finally set, and then drove the last hour under the cover of night to our new accommodation. The BnB was great, a little hard to find out in the country since half of Ireland’s country houses don’t have numbers, (sometimes not even a street name), but the bed was the best so far.

The frost was heavy on the ground when we woke on the 3rd, and there were large patches of ice scattered all over the country roads which made driving super fun. After breakfast we packed up the car and shipped out early to get over to a coastal town called Dingle which I had heard a bit about. The town was nice enough, cute shops and pubs but the best part of the day was the trip there through Conor Pass….. holy shit, sheer cliff sides, towering mountains and to top it off there was ice everywhere. We stopped at one super awe-inspiring spot and climbed the side of the icy mountain up to a hidden lake. The view out was indescribable, it’s got to be one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen and makes me want to come back and spend a couple of months here exploring – maybe in summer though. Further around the hairpin bends in the road was another point where you could park up and look out over the other side of the range to the ocean around Dingle and the surrounding towns. I hauled ass up to the top of the hillside and got camera happy. When we finally made it to Dingle we stopped in at the Grey Bistro for lunch, Jim is addicted to seafood chowder at the moment so he ordered that, and I got a goats cheese salad which was pretty good. We walked around the township a bit and then drove further around the point to Beenbawn beach where the green farmland just drops away to the water. I got dizzy trying to look over the cliffs edge – Jim doing the whole “DONT FALL!” shake your shoulders joke didn’t help either. Before getting back to the car a super friendly dog also scared the shyte out of me by sneaking right up before I turned and saw it, then it bounced all over my coat with its muddy paws… cute and annoying…. mostly cute though.

The next day was the 4th of January and we were visiting the Cliffs of Moher – they were of course beautiful. Terrifying, with a worn, muddy and slippery as fuck farm track taking you past the visitors centre path and along the cliff top edge. My vertigo came into full effect when I got within two meters of the drop – all the while other tourists were risking life and limb by hanging their legs and in one instance jumping off the edge to a lower ledge for “epic” photo ops. Just watching it made me nauseous. It wasn’t helped by the “oh so suitable” boots I chose to wear which have no grip whatsoever. I nearly arsed over a few times and Jim slid his way down an entire portion of path at one point. The view was amazing though, unfortunately is was raining and cold and after walking for about two hours over the track we were heading back to the car. We also stopped to see a couple of other sites,  Poulnabrone Domen which is a portal tomb from the neolithic period that rests on a plateau of limestone that has slowly been eroded over the past 16000 years to look like giant puzzle pieces, and then a castle which has been turned into an artists school/uni type thing, called Burren College of Arts. After all the exploring we drove back to our air BnB and packed up for an early check out.

The next morning we departed for Dublin and had a long journey ahead of us as well as a stop at Galway for a look-see. Galway is a cute city, unfortunately like most it is a bit of a tourist trap and didn’t offer anything particularly special except the original jeweller where the Claddagh ring originated 200 years ago… apparently. We stopped for lunch and I had one of the best coffees I’ve had so far from a place called Coffeewerk + Press which was both cafe and design store/gallery in one. From there we continued our journey toward Dublin, planning to stop at Newgrange, an epic stone age tomb, however YET AGAIN we were too late, this time by fifteen minutes! So on to Dublin, where we stopped for dinner at Pigeon House and enjoyed one of our first decent meals in weeks – we actually had vegetables! Before we left we also spotted Liam Cunningham, the guy that plays Davos on Game Of Thrones! Haha that made our night! I was gonna pester him for a photo but decided to let him get his fish and chips in peace. Still awesome watching him in his natural environment hahaha – bit of a creep aren’t I.

Our Air BnB was pretty good, our host was having a slumber party with her grand-daughter and after showing us the house she stopped to chat with us while the kid (I’m guessing hopped up on sugar) climbed all over our bags in our room – laptop included…. what a fucking angel. Grandma didn’t really seem to mind too much either – good first impression all round. We decided to lock our bedroom door from then on.

Our last full day in Ireland was spent exploring Dublin. It’s a beautiful city, as with most European cities is has a bunch of gorgeous old buildings and museums, this time however Jim and I decided to stop at the Dublin Science Gallery and check out the exhibition. Amazing stuff, not just beautiful visually but each piece had a really cool explanation on the wall which outlined the artistic point of view as well as the scientific/political idea behind it. Pretty educational. Lunch was a spur of the moment decision and we stumbled upon gold, salads and sandwiches made with gorgeous ingredients (mozzarella, pesto, roast capsicum and rocket sandwich – amazeballs). The only downer was the girl on the table next to us who was apparently dying from plague, she coughed and hacked so much I got put off – even James did. Gross. We explored more of the city that afternoon before escaping the cold and rain by way of the Savoy Cinema – Assassins Creed. From there it was a short train ride back to our warm bed.

We flew out of Dublin the next day (7th January) bound for foggy London town, before we left however we drove back to Newgrange and did a tour. Unfortunately we werent allowed cameras inside the chamber but it was beautiful and we got to experience (through a special lighting effect) what it was like to see the winter eqiunox sunrise where the light lines up with the chamber entrance for about 17 mins (only six days a year). From there we were off to the airport and as usual the check in experience was great. Jim got felt up by security – he is looking a bit dodgy now though with his long unkempt hair and gnarly beard so it may have been justified…

scenery on the way to County Kerry

scenery on the way to County Kerry – Road tunnel through the hill

scenery on the way to County Kerry

Beenbawn Beach cliffs

New favourite at Jamesons Distillery restaurant

Beenbawn Beach

Leaving Abbeyfeale

Beenbawn beach cliffs

James and Cliffs of Moher

scenery on the way to County Kerry – Road tunnel through the hill

Cliffs of Moher view

Frosty morning in Abbeyfeale

Conor Pass

Beenbawn beach cliffs

scenery on the way to County Kerry

scenery on the way to County Kerry

labeling our whisky

Newgrange Entrance

Conor Pass – secret lake

Beenbawn Beach

Newgrange Entrance

Conor Pass

Limestone Puzzlefields

Lunch at Jamesons Distillery, Midleton

Cliffs of Moher

Jamesons Distillery details

Limestone Puzzle field

Conor Pass

leaving Abbeyfeale

Conor Pass

scenery on the way to County Kerry

Conor Pass overlooking Dingle

Cliffs of Moher details

Bottling our whisky at Jamesons Distillery

Conor Pass

Cliffs of Moher

James and Cliffs of Moher

labeling our whisky

Beenbawn Beach Cliffs

Conor Pass

Frosty morning in Abbeyfeale

leaving Abbeyfeale

James bottling our whisky

Conor Pass

James bottling our own cask strength whisky to take home

Beenbawn Beach cliffs

James whisky sampling

New year in Ireland Our first morning in Ireland (30th December) was spent walking a trail to get to Mahon Falls.