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etoileholland · 4 years

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Hold me close, I’ve never been so far from home.

Pairing: Tom and female reader

Warnings: a sprinkling of bad words, anger

Word count: 3.5k

Quarantining with the boys had been quite fun. You and the boys had watched a lot of movies together, played a lot of games, and have spent a lot of time watching the boys tend to the chickens. There was only one small dilemma, you were stuck in the UK with them.

You were from overseas, and about two months before lockdown you decided to take a vacation to London. There, you met Tom and had instantly fallen in love with each other. He figured that he could at least spend some time with you before he had to fly to America to film. Besides, he knew you wouldn’t be spending much time in the UK, so he let you live in his home temporarily until you decided to fly back home.

Temporarily was the key word here. No one could have anticipated what was soon to come.

When it was announced in March that the UK would be under heavy lockdown, with no flights being allowed to enter your home country, you realised you were absolutely stuck here. With nowhere to go, and with limited money, Tom allowed you to quarantine with him and the guys.

For the first month, things seemed to be pretty good. Everyone was in high hopes and was positive that things would blow over in a few weeks, so things were good. Great, even.

That is, until you started to inevitably get on each other’s nerves. It was the little things that pissed you off about the boys. Like the way Sam doesn’t shut the tap off properly so it always drips, or when Harrison doesn’t bother to put the toilet seat back down. The boys were annoyed with how you never liked to load the dishwasher, or how you played your music around the house just a little too loud.

You were growing more annoyed with the boys every day, and they were equally growing annoyed with you. It would only be a matter of time until somebody snaps.

Today was that fateful day.

It was a nice morning when you woke up, with Tom sleeping right next to you in your shared bed. His arm was outstretched so that it was holding onto your waist, and your face was buried in the crook of his neck. The sun was shining bright as it was peeking through the blinds, and you could hear a bird chirping outside. You moved Tom’s arm so that you could get up, but it caused him to wake up slightly and wrap his arm around you tighter.

“mmm, five more minutes babe, I don’t want to get up.” He said sleepily, and in a hushed tone.

“Angel, I want to get up now. I need some coffee.” You said as you unwrapped yourself from him, and got up.

Tom made grabby hands at you like a child, while trying to persuade you to stay in bed.

“Babyyyy, cuddle with me right now.” He pouted, but you only shook your head.

“Sorry love, I’ll see you downstairs.” You said as you walked out of the bedroom and made your way downstairs for breakfast.

Harrison had made everyone pancakes, something that he did frequently. Pancakes always made your stomach hurt so you never ate them, and today would be no different. You grabbed a bowl from the cupboard and grabbed a box of cereal from the counter.

Harrison, who was sat at the table, sighed as he watched you make something else to eat for yourself.

“You know, why don’t you ever eat any of my pancakes?” He asked, while taking a bite of his pancake.

“I’ve told you before, they make my stomach hurt. And also, I don’t think that they should crunch the way they do. I didn’t know egg shells were your secret ingredient.” You joked, but Harrison didn’t take it that way.

“Well then I’d like to see you make something better then.” He huffed, grabbing his breakfast and leaving to eat in the living room.

“Damn, what a jerk.” You muttered under your breath as you were preparing your coffee.

“You know, we’re getting tired of your shit remarks.” The voice came from the other end of the room, and you looked up to see Harry leaning against the wall. He had his arms crossed and was glaring at you. He paused a minute before continuing to speak. “At least Harrison is actually doing something for once, unlike you. You literally do nothing and complain the most.” He remarked.

You sighed loudly and set down your cup of coffee on the counter. “Geez, I wonder what crawled up all of your asses this morning. I was only joking with Harrison. It’s not my fault he took it the wrong way.” You said while standing by the kitchen island, taking bites of your cereal.

Harry was furious with you, and everything you did was starting to grow on his nerves. How you always left dirty cups in the sink, how you never wanted to help with the chickens, or how you didn’t even want to help clean the house. Since you were living here, he figured that you would make yourself useful, but instead he, along with everyone except Tom, saw you as a hindrance.

“You know, we’ve all had it with you. No one even wants you around anymore. Hell, we wish you could just fly back home so that we wouldn’t have to live with you any longer.” He stated as he left the room after hitting you with that.

You stood there flabbergasted, allowing the words that Harry said to you to hang in the air.

You admit, you haven’t been the best house guest, but you were upset that you were stuck in a foreign country, without any of your family or friends. You were worried about their safety and hoped to god that they were okay, and you weren’t sure how long you would go without seeing them. It could be months, even a year until you would be cleared to go back home, and that was a harsh realization.

Being this depressed, you haven’t wanted to get up and do any chores. It was a chore to even get out of bed every day, and it was becoming a chore to shower regularly. You listened to loud music to drown out the thoughts in your head, hoping and praying that you wouldn’t think about the scary thoughts that crossed your mind all. the. damn. time.

It probably never crossed their minds that you were becoming depressed, and you didn’t want to spill the beans now. The boys still didn’t know a lot about you, and you were intent on keeping a few things a secret from them. Tom didn’t even notice you were upset, and you didn’t want to tell him. He was being kind enough to let you stay here, so you didn’t want to throw it up in his face.

Nobody seemed to notice that you weren’t your usual self, but then again, they didn’t know your usual self. They didn’t know that your nickname was ‘little miss sunshine’ because you were always smiling, but recently, you haven’t been living up to that nickname.

You continued to stand there long after Harry had left, but you couldn’t react, you were far too numb to react. The only thought running through your mind was “well, what if I’m someone I don’t want around.”

You felt nauseous, as though you were about to have a panic attack. You grounded yourself by holding onto the counter as you took a deep breath in, exhaling while counting to eight. Your therapist taught you this technique, and it did work.

You emptied the cereal into the garbage, poured the coffee down the drain, and loaded your cup and bowl into the dishwasher. That’ll show them that you actually can do something, you thought. You quietly unlocked the front door and put your shoes on, and one of Tom’s jackets, and stepped outside quietly so that no one would notice that you were gone. Well actually, nobody would care that you were gone either, you thought to yourself.

When you got really stressed, you found solace in taking a walk. So you headed down the pavement and towards the corner of the block, and crossed the street.

Once you were a few blocks away, you realised you didn’t have your phone on you. You were too upset to think about grabbing it. Not wanting to turn back around, you just kept walking further and further away from the boys’ residence.

You presumed that thirty minutes had passed, and you looked up to realise that you were lost. The streets looked less and less familiar, and you had never seen any of these businesses before. You felt a pang in your chest and realised that you had definitely fucked up. Now you were lost and you had no way of contacting Tom to come get you, or had any idea which way you came from so you could retrace your steps.

It began to pour as you walked around some more, trying to think about which direction you came from. You looked up to see a red phone booth, and hoped to god that it actually worked. You went inside to shelter yourself from the rain, and after shaking the rain off of you, you picked up the phone, and to your surprise you heard the dial tone. You rummaged around in Tom’s pockets and found about three pounds worth of 10p coins, and you were so happy that he carried it around with him.

Okay, now you just have to remember his number, how hard can that be? You thought to yourself as you raked your brain, hoping to have it magically come to you. You knew the first three numbers, and but you couldn’t remember the rest. You searched Tom’s pockets to see if maybe it was on something, and sure enough, when he went to Tesco last month, he used his reward membership, and his number was printed clearly on the receipt. You did a little happy dance as you stuck 60p into the coin slot and dialed the number.

God I hope he answers, you thought as the phone rang and rang.

——

While you were trying to figure out Tom’s number, Tuwaine was the first to notice that you were gone. He saw that the door was unlocked, and he distinctly remembered locking it before he went to bed last night. He knew Tom was home because he saw him walk to the kitchen, and he was just playing with the guys, so he figured it had to have been you who left.

Tom noticed that he didn’t see you on his way to the kitchen, but he presumed you were with the guys. He would find you after breakfast, since you owed him some cuddles, he thought to himself. He didn’t seem to be worried, but he became worried when he saw Tuwaine rushing into the kitchen.

“Hey did your girlfriend go to the shops or something? She’s the only person not here and she left the front door unlocked.” Tuwaine said as Tom began to choke on his breakfast.

“She didn’t tell me she was leaving, and her phone was still on the nightstand just a few minutes ago.” He downed his breakfast tea and got up from his seat.

“Where could she have gone to? I know (y/n) only leaves without saying anything when she’s upset. This means something, or someone, prompted her to leave. What fucker said or did something to make her upset, hmm? Was it Harrison? Sam? Harry? You, even?” He inquired, his jaw was tight and he was visibly turning red.

“Relax mate, it wasn’t me. I just noticed that she was gone, that’s all.” Tuwaine said in a calm tone, in hopes of easing Tom’s fears and hoping to calm him down. “Maybe she just went for a short walk to clear her head, I wouldn’t worry too much.” He said, but Tom stormed past him and towards the living room.

“Alright you little shits, which one of you did or said something to make my girlfriend run off? Hmm?” He exclaimed as he ran into the living room where the boys were playing FIFA.

The boys didn’t say anything, but Harrison and Harry exchanged glances, which only caused Tom to become even more furious.

“I swear to god I will unplug the console and throw it out the goddamn window if you don’t answer me right now!” He screamed, slamming his fist down on the coffee table to try to get the boy’s attention.

“Fuck dude it was Harrison and I, okay? Don’t kill us, alright? She came into the kitchen in a shit mood and made a rude remark about how Harrison can’t cook worth shit, and then I said that I wish she didn’t live with us. I mean, come on! She doesn’t even contribute around here!”

Tom stood there fuming, ready to strangle his little brother.

“Why the fuck would you say something like that? That’s awful. She’s staying here because she can’t go back home due to the fucking plague, Harry, the plague!” He threw his hands up in the air dramatically, as he began to pace the room.

“She doesn’t have her phone on her, I have no idea where she is and you twats told her to leave! Fucking hell, where could she be?” He asked as he was now pacing around the room frantically.

“I don’t know, but I’m enjoying the quiet.” Harry said as he let out a small laugh.

“That’s it, you’re dead.” Tom said with a straight face as he began to approach Harry at the couch. Harry then jumped up and threw his hands up in the air to surrender, but Tom was still furious.

“Okay if you don’t kill me I’ll help you find (y/n) okay? I promise and I’ll apologize so much and I’ll become her personal servant for the whole month and just please don’t kill me.” He squeaked out the last part, backing up so he could get away from Tom and nearly falling backwards onto the coffee table.

Tuwaine and Sam held back Tom as he raised a fist in the air, trying to squirm out of their grasp so he could punch Harry in the face. He deserves it, he thought. You could be anywhere and that scared Tom more than ever. He started to assume the worst, but he shook his head as he just crumbled to the floor, crying. He was sobbing into his hands, as he feared that he may have lost you, forever.

You didn’t tell Tom that you were becoming depressed, but he noticed that you didn’t seem like yourself recently. You didn’t want to have early morning cuddles anymore, and you didn’t smile as much as you used to. He knew how hard it was on you to not be around your family at a difficult time like this. Yesterday he had overheard your conversation with your mom over the phone saying how much you missed them, and it hurt him inside that he can’t really help. So he tried to cheer you up in many different ways. He would often send Harrison to the shops to get your favourite ice cream, and would offer to cuddle with you and watch movies when he had a chance. He was trying to be there for you, but his imbecile brothers ruined it.

The guys looked down on Tom, crouching down to hold him as he was sobbing and letting out small hiccups. Harrison and Harry looked at each other, knowing that they snapped at you for no good reason. Yes, they were annoyed with you, but they definitely overstepped when they wished you weren’t around anymore. Guilt built up in their stomachs as they saw how upset Tom was over you. They may find you a tad aggravating, but they knew that Tom didn’t see you that way.

“We’re sorry, we shouldn’t have said those things to her. We were just annoyed, but we also forgot how hard it must be on her right now.” Harry said as he continued to hold Tom. “We’ll help you look for her, yeah? Let’s hop in the car and drive around, hoping that we’ll see her walking. Besides, since everything’s closed, she can’t be at too many places. We can eliminate the mall, the parks and most of the shops and restaurants. It’ll be easy to find her.” He said, trying to get Tom to calm down a bit.

“Okay, let’s do that.” Tom snuffed as he was helped up by the boys.

As they were throwing on their jackets, Tom’s phone began to rang. It was an unknown number, but the location said ‘London’. He was hoping, praying that it was you, so he answered it.

“Hello, who is it?” He asked, holding his breath as he heard a sob on the other end of the line. “Hello?” Tom said again, as the voice on the other end said “Tom, it’s me. I’m in a red telephone booth. I didn’t even know they had those anymore and I’m lost and I need you to come get me now please.” You rambled into the phone, as Tom let out a sign of relief.

“Okay love, stay on the phone with me, alright? Tell me what you see around you and I’ll come find you. You need to be specific, can you read any of the street signs from where you are?” He asked, but you couldn’t. You weren’t wearing your glasses so you could barely read the small text inside the telephone booth.

“No I can’t read it, it’s too far away. But I’m right in front of a store called “that vintage shop”. You stated, hoping that Tom had heard of it before.

“Hold on, I’m telling Harrison to put it into maps so we can get you, okay?”

Harrison quickly put it into his phone and showed Tom where you were, and you were four miles away from the house.

“Love you really did take a long walk, you’re very far away but I promise I’m coming to get you, alright? So stay on the line with me and whatever you do, do not leave the phone booth. Can you promise me that?” He pleaded into the phone, and you said “I promise. I’m sorry, Tommy.”

“It’s okay darling, I’m just glad you’re alright. Please don’t ever do this again. If something, or someone-” he stopped to glare at the boys “is bothering you, you need to tell me first, angel.”

“Okay.” was all you could say, as you let out more sobs.

“Don’t cry love, I’ll be right there. It’ll only take us a few minutes to drive there.” He tried to reassure you, but you just began to cry even more.

The boys hopped into the car and went on their way to find you. Tom kept you on the line as he made you promise to never do that again, and told you over and over how much you meant to him.

You were so grateful for him, and you didn’t know what you would do without him. He’s been so loving, and you were massively in love with him. You didn’t tell him that, but it was hard not to fall in love with his sweet and caring personality.

He made you feel safe, even if you were standing in an old telephone booth in a foreign country. At that moment, you knew you had to keep him around forever.

You saw the car pull up to the curb, and Tom hurriedly rushed out of the car to get to you. You got out of the phone booth as Tom wrapped you in a tight embrace, slightly swaying as he continued to hold onto you.

You started crying and so did he, as he whispered in your ear saying “please don’t do that again, okay? I never want to let you go.” He paused for a minute and then said “I love you.” You quickly told him you loved him too as you began to kiss him in the pouring rain.

The boys watched from inside the car, and after a while you and Tom made your way back to the car. He opened the door for you to get in, and immediately the boys were talking over each other and apologizing profusely.

“Listen I’m so sorry, I promise we’ll never say anything like that again. We’re proud of you for at least putting your cup in the dishwasher before you ran off.” Harry said as tears were brimming in his eyes.

“What he said. We hope you can forgive us.” Harrison added, as you nodded your head yes.

“I can forgive you. Now please, let’s go back to your house, I’m freezing.” You said as Tom took off the jacket he was wearing to give to you.

“No, let’s go back to our house.” Harrison said as he began to drive back home to your house.

——

A/N: hi, I definitely made myself cry while writing this. If you have any requests or want to be added to the tag list please let me know! 💛

Mes petits anges: @starkissedholland @scarletxwidow @fangirlwithasweettooth

#tom holland imagine #tom holland imagines #tom holland angst #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland blurb #tom holland #soft boyfriend Tom #tom holland writing #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfics #tom holland x female reader #tom holland one shot #tom holland one shots #mine #text #tom holland and you #tom holland and y/n

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ecoamerica · 20 days

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goldenraeofsun · 4 years

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the best day with you

Part of this verse!

Dean taps Claire on the shoulder. “You got plans for this weekend?”

Claire twists on their couch to see him and sets aside her laptop. With narrowed eyes full of suspicion, she grabs the remote and mutes Dr. Sexy. “Why?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

Dean rolls his eyes. This is why he became a teacher. To help teenagers. Not to strangle them for sassing him to his face. Sure, Claire might be a sophomore in college now, and she’s not really a teenager anymore, but Dean’s never going to see her as anything but an angsty junior in high school. Especially if she keeps up the this attitude. Dean says, as evenly as he can, “Because I want to do something with you.”

Claire grimaces. “Really? Don’t you have other boring old man friends to do things with? Like, for instance, your boyfriend?”

“No,” Dean says. “Cas is going to visit Gabriel in LA this week.”

“And you chose to stay behind with me instead?” Claire says, her eyebrows rising to her hairline.

“Yes.”

“Are you dying?”

“What?” Dean gapes. “No!”

Claire squints at him. “Are you hoping I can score drugs for you?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “I can get my own drugs, thanks. It’s one of the perks of being a real live adult.”

“Do you need money?”

“If I did,” Dean starts incredulously, “why would I ask a broke college student?”

“I don’t know,” Claire says with a shrug. “Dementia? That kicks in about now for you, right?”

Dean’s mouth falls open. “I’m barely thirty-four!”

Claire shrugs. “Alzheimers?”

“That’s a kind of dementia,” Dean tells her flatly. He runs a hand down his face. “Look, are you free or not, kid?”

Dean is pretty sure she doesn’t have plans, judging by the way she’s religiously camped out on their couch for the past two weeks straight. She's abandoned her spot only to go to the bathroom, eat meals, and, on one memorable occasion, visit her parents for Sunday dinner. The living room her space now - which is fine with him, Dean’s been doing his summer school grading at the kitchen table. Along with her computer, Claire’s got the coding handbook Charlie Frankenstien-ed for her out of a bunch of different documents, probably all downloaded and printed illegally. On the television, she cycles through daytime soaps and CW evening dramas.

Claire grins. “On Saturday or something? Yeah.”

He rolls his eyes. “Was that so hard?”

“No, but it was fun.”

“Anyone ever tell you you’re a handful?” Dean says as he turns to head back into the kitchen. Lunch wasn’t going to make itself, and Cas was due back any minute from his errands.

“Just my parents, every day from age thirteen to eighteen,” Claire says casually as she reaches for the remote to resume Dr. Sexy.

Dean freezes. “Hey,” he starts, not really sure where he’s going with this.

“What?” Claire snaps as if annoyed, but her face is guarded.

“Your parents were asshats, you know that?” Dean says. “They shouldn’t have done that to you.”

“Yeah, well, you know what they say about family,” Claire mutters as she turns up Dr. Sexy.

In the middle of her junior year of high school, Claire moved in with Cas for about six months.

Early in the year, she had an explosive argument with her parents about transferring from their preferred private school to Edlund High. She also came out to them.

Dean has the sneaking suspicion Claire doesn’t think she had it that bad. Her parents didn’t hit her. They didn’t kick her out. They didn’t even stop giving her her allowance. But they didn’t talk to her for days on end. They ignored her until she needed something from them, or the other way around. By Christmas, Claire had had enough. She left.

Back then, Dean told Claire her parents were in the wrong as many times as she would let him - which wasn’t many.

Cas took the lead with her, instead. She was his family. He found her a therapist and encouraged her to make friends at Edlund. Dean didn’t really feel like it was his place. She was Cas’s niece, and Dean was the guy who stayed over a couple times a week when she was crashing there too. And then he became her teacher when the transfer to Edlund became official. Still, she wouldn’t consider him family.

“My uncle always said, ‘family don’t end in blood,’” Dean tells her seriously.

Claire slumps back on the couch. “Right,” she says dully.

Dean takes a step back, rubbing his neck as he swallows down his next few words. He’s not about to give a heartfelt lecture on family and healthy boundaries to someone who’s going to grumble and groan through it. He jerks his head towards the kitchen. “I’ll get started on-”

Claire interrupts, “But that’s not grammatically correct. Aren’t you an English teacher? Who gave you a license to teach?”

Dean snorts. “Just think about it, will you?”

“Uh huh,” Claire waves him off. “If you’re going to the kitchen, can you make me a sandwich?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Yes, Your Majesty. Cas finished off the strawberry jelly while he was grading essays last night, so you’re gonna have to settle for grape.”

Claire makes a face but nods. Dean’s almost at the kitchen door when she asks, “Your uncle, was he really your uncle?”

Dean shakes his head. “Not by blood. He was a good friend of my dad’s. But he was as good as family - better than, sometimes.” He swallows. Bobby’s been gone two years now. Dean had thought the grief when his dad passed was bad, but it was a whole other beast with Bobby.

Claire squints at him, looking so much like Cas Dean can’t help the warm feeling in his chest. “This is your show, right?” she asks out of the blue, gesturing to the television.

Dean blinks. “Yeah?”

And that’s how Cas finds them ten minutes later, eating PB&Js on the couch, watching Dr. Sexy - with Claire skewering every characterization and costume choice, and Dean defending Dr. Sexy’s cowboy boots with his life.

* * *

“Minigolf, really?” Claire asks as they pull into the parking lot on a bright Saturday afternoon. The early-summer temperatures are already high enough to make Dean sweat in the Impala, and Claire’s shorts could double as bikini bottoms, they’re so small.

She adds, “You realize I have a fake ID and we could probably go to a bar or something.”

“One,” Dean says as he slams the car door shut, “minigolf is a classic American pastime. Much better for your liver than drinking. And B, don’t ever tell Cas about that fake.”

Claire clambers out of the car. “I’m not an idiot.”

“Just making sure,” Dean says airily as he starts walking. He holds out his hand as she jobs to catch up to him. “Lemme see it.”

“Why?” she asks suspiciously as she digs for her wallet in her purse and fishes the ID out.

“Nice job,” Dean says as he holds it up to the sunlight shining overhead. “Ash?”

Claire stops short, surprised. “What?”

“Did Ash do this one?” Dean asks. “Come on,” he tells her as he nudges her shoulder to keep her moving out of the middle of the parking lot. “Nobody else does ‘em this good.”

“How do you know that?” Claire demands.

Dean laughs. “I told you I can get my own drugs.”

“Ash deals too?” Claire asks, looking hopeful.

Dean leans over to ruffle her hair. “His dope is a little out of your price range, squirt.”

“Hey!” Claire squawks as she tries to smooth everything back into place. “And nobody calls it ‘dope’ any more, you doof.”

Dean grins. “Yeah, I know.”

They enter the main building and get in line to rent the putters. It smells strongly of sunblock and worn down parental patience. A few parents wait ahead of them, all older than Dean with kids younger than Claire. A group of high schoolers are inspecting a row of putters on display on the far wall. Through the windows to the back, Dean can see a splendid display of mostly-intact astroturf and course obstacles with sun-faded paint.

The guy behind the counter is wearing an obnoxiously bright shirt and smile. “Hiya,” he says cheerily as they step up to the counter, “I’m Garth, welcome!”

“Two adults please,” Claire says quickly, like she knows Dean was going to ask for a kid’s ticket to mess with her.

“You got it,” Garth says as he bends down to grab two putters. “The bathrooms are by Hole 7, and if you want to grab lunch across the way at Fenris’s Diner, show them your receipt and you’ll get 15% off.”

Dean steps forward with his wallet. “Do you know if they have pie?”

Garth smiles wider, showing even more teeth, which Dean didn’t think was possible. “You bet! The best darn cherry pie I’ve ever tasted.”

“Awesome,” he says. “Thanks, man.”

“Thank you!” Garth says as he rings them up. “And good luck on the course!”

* * *

Dean is uncomfortably sweaty by Hole 2, and Claire piles her hair on top of her head in a messy bun to cool off her neck halfway through Hole 4.

“Swing batter, batter, swing!” Dean shouts from right behind her as she hits the ball at Hole 6.

Claire glares at him as her ball knocks against the windmill blade and skips off to the side. “That’s for baseball, idiot.”

“But you still missed,” Dean points out as he sidles up to tee. “So does it really matter? Hey!” She kicks him in the ankle as he strikes at the ball. “You cheater,” he gasps dramatically.

“So what?” Claire asks, putter swinging ominously at her side, “You gonna tell on me?”

Dean frowns. “No, but I won't buy you any pie when this is all over.” He keeps his eyes peeled for an opportunity to mess with her as she takes another stab at the windmill.

“Fine with me. I like cake better.”

Dean raises his head to gape at her. “Seriously?”

Claire throws him a funny look. “Does it matter?”

Dean’s mouth works furiously. “You ate the last slice of pumpkin pie at Thanksgiving two years ago.”

Claire’s eyebrows climb to her hairline as she leans against the windmill and watches him take another stab at it. “You remember that?”

Dean hardly watches where his ball goes. “Of course I do.”

Jimmy and Amelia had elected to have Thanksgiving at Cas’s mother’s place. Cas, whose frosty relationship with his mother wasn’t helped by her dismissive attitude towards Claire, hosted a separate Thanksgiving at the (then) new house he shared with Dean. Sam and Jess flew in from California, and Claire was, of course, invited too. They were having a fucking blast, until Claire stole the last slice of pie right out from under Dean’s nose.

Claire snickers under her breath. “You’re so weird.”

Dean glares. “I called dibs.”

“I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about, McMurphy,” Claire says, the liar. She crouches to get a better look at the windmill.

Dean tries to suppress his smile. “Was that a One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest reference?”

Claire rolls her eyes. “I paid attention in your class, you know. Even if you gave me an A-minus.”

Dean grins. “But you got a 5 on the AP Exam.”

Claire does a little jig as her ball falls into the hole.

* * *

“What the fuck?” Dean howls as his ball stops just short of Hole 9. Parents chaperoning a group of five kids at Hole 10 glare daggers at him.

Claire laughs uproariously. “Sucks to suck, old man.”

“Hey!” Dean glowers as she sinks a hole in one.

“What’s that?” Claire holds her putter up in victory. “Did you see that? Did that go in the hole? I wasn’t watching. Did the ball go in the hole?”

“Shut up, kid,” Dean grumbles as Claire smirks. “It wasn’t funny the first time.” He concentrates on his next shot. God help him if he fucks up with his ball barely half a foot from the hole.

One of the toddlers at Hole 10 lets out an ear-splitting shriek, and Dean’s ball skips off in the direction of Hole 13.

Claire doubles over laughing.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean grumbles as he sidesteps her to go fetch it, “Like you would’ve done any better.”

“I just did. Or did you miss my hole in one?” Claire asks from right behind him.

“I’m hungry,” Dean declares.

“Okay…?” Claire squints at him.

Dean nods to a hotdog stand by Hole 14. “Whaddya say to a dog?”

“Mystery meat at a roadside attraction that hasn’t been renovated since ‘97? Sign me up,” Claire says sarcastically.

Dean claps her on the back, just a shade too hard. “That’s the spirit.”

She stumbles but doesn't fall - exactly Dean’s plan - and glares at him. “If I get E. coli, it’s your fault.”

Once hotdogs are in hand, they sit and eat on a worn bench that’s more chipped paint than bench, facing a dinky little fountain. A few pennies glint dully from at bottom, almost obscured by the bright midday sunlight reflecting off the surface of the water.

“So,” Claire says after she takes her first bite. “You wanna tell me what this is all about?”

“What?”

“This whole distant dad trying to reconnect with his kid routine,” Claire says.

“I - I’m not your dad,” Dean stutters, face heating.

“Duh. Dad was more of Church retreat guy.” She leans back on the bench, stretching out her legs, and tilts her face up to catch more sun. “I would’ve had a better time if there was no singing and 100% more hitting things.”

Dean asks haltingly, “So you don’t think this is weird?”

“What hanging out with you?” Claire asks, her smile guileless. “I heard elder enrichment is important to prevent cognitive decline, so I’m just doing my duty.” She laughs at his disappointed frown. “Relax. This has been… great.”

“Really?”

Claire finishes off her hotdog and balls up the aluminum foil wrapper. “Yeah. Don’t let it go to your head.”

Dean gets up to put her trash and his in the garbage and manages to stow his broad smile before he gets back.

* * *

“Hole in one!” Dean crows at Hole 15.

“Do you want a gold star?” Claire snarks as she tees up.

“Shut up.”

Claire swings, and they both watch as her ball deftly navigates around the bumps and turns to sink neatly into the hole.

Dean’s smile falls off his face as Claire jumps around in victory. “Lucky shot,” he tells her as they troop to Hole 16.

“Uh huh,” Claire says. “And that makes, what seven lucky shots for me? And how many holes in one have you had?”

At the next hole, they have to wait for the large family ahead of them to finish up.

“Oh my god,” Claire mutters as one of the parents demonstrates how to properly swing the putter for the youngest child, “it’s minigolf. Not the Olympics.”

“I know, right?” Dean says in an undertone. “Who cares how she hits the ball? If she wants to bowl it down the course, let her.”

“Seriously, who gives a fuck?”

“I bet she’s gonna scream before they’re done with the lesson.”

“What?”

“Water works in 5… 4… 3…”

They wait with bated breath as, sure enough, the child sits down in the middle of the course and wails. She refuses to even touch the putter.

“How did you know that was gonna happen?” Claire asks as the family moves on. She eyes him critically. “High schoolers aren’t the tantrum type.”

“Shows what you know,” Dean snorts. No matter the point of spending today with Claire, he wasn’t about to tell her how he became an expert in toddler care. Christ, he can still remember the sticky feeling of Sammy’s vomit all over his front when he cried so hard he puked. Dean’s crime? Telling Sammy his favorite blanket needed to be washed. Dean hadn’t even taken it away yet.

Dean tells Claire instead, “I’ve seen more meltdowns over bad essay grades than I’d like. And it’s not like I can say, well, you should have read the damn book, Ava.”

“You wouldn’t say something like that,” Claire says as she bends down to set up her ball.

“Of course not,” Dean rolls his eyes, “that makes it worse.”

Claire straightens. “No, I’m saying, you would probably ask her why she didn’t have the time to read the book; if she’s tried the audiobook instead; if you should talk to Mr. Lafitte for her since she spent too long on Algebra and didn’t get to your homework.” She shrugs, meeting his eyes briefly. “You would do something like that.”

Dean blinks because she’s got him exactly right. He’s a firm believer that there’s no such thing as a lazy student. There are unmotivated students; there are students with undiagnosed ADHD or dyslexia; and there are anxious and/or depressed students. Hell, there are students with side-jobs, bills to pay, and little brothers to look after.

“Yeah,” he agrees, discomfited. Claire was his student for one year, but her presence in class was kind of eclipsed by her rocky home life. In senior year, she was back with her parents, but she also caught up regularly with Cas. In class, she faded into the background - Kaia’s blonde shadow. Cas’s stories provided Dean with more insight than any discussion on The Plot Against America ever did.

“All the seniors loved you,” Claire says. “Max Banes would’ve slept with you if he could.”

Dean hits his ball right into the mini sand pit. “What?”

Claire smirks. “You didn’t know?”

“No!”

“Uncle Cas was right, you are oblivious,” Claire says as she whacks her ball straight into the hole.

“Hey,” Dean says, but the protest is weak. “Cas wasn’t much better.”

Claire grins. “No one’s arguing that.” She waits until Dean’s mid-swing to say, “Max would’ve slept with Uncle Cas too - which, gross.”

“Dammit, Claire!”

* * *

“Okay,” Claire says as they walk away from Hole 18. “I’m gonna need to sit in AC for at least forty-five minutes.”

They’ve been out in the sun for nearly two hours now. Dean pulls his damp shirt away from his stomach with a grimace. “You down for pie?”

“Sure,” Claire says gratefully as they leave minigolf behind them.

In the diner, the air conditioning hits them like a bucket of cold water to the face. Claire throws herself into the first both they see as Dean troops off to relieve himself in the bathroom. He checks his phone - one grumpy text from Cas about Gabriel’s inappropriate choice of swimwear for a hotel pool - and exits with a smile on his face.

Back at the booth, Claire is twirling a lock of blonde hair around her finger, smiling coyly up at the waitress from lowered lashes. But Claire's inviting expression flips off like a switch as Dean drops down into the opposite seat.

The waitress’ own sunny smile takes on a distinctly plastic sheen at his arrival. “Hello!” she chirps as Dean picks up the menu. “Is there anything I can get you besides water?”

“Can I get a coke?” Dean asks the waitress - Maggie, according to her nametag. She’s tall, probably taller than Claire, and dark-haired. She seems around Claire's own age, so Dean would bet she’s only working here as a summer job.

Claire is still glaring daggers at him, so Dean asks, partly to be a dick, “And what’re you getting, Claire?”

“Water,” she says through gritted teeth.

“A coke and a water, please,” Dean says cheerfully to Maggie.

She bobs a nod and casts a lingering look at Claire. “I’ll be right back to take your order.”

Claire kicks him under the table as she disappears into the kitchen. “You couldn’t have waited another five minutes?” she hisses “I was just about to get her number.”

Dean grins. “My bad.”

“Now she thinks I’m here with my dad or something.” Claire crosses her arms across her chest.

Dean rolls his eyes. “You call me an old man, but I’m, what, twelve years older than you? We’re more likely to be on a date.”

Claire’s flat-out horrified face is enough to make Dean’s week. He’s still laughing as Maggie makes a return, one water and one Coca Cola in tow.

“So what can I get you both?” Maggie asks as she reaches for her pad and pen.

“One slice of cherry pie, thanks,” Dean says brightly.

“Nothing for me,” Claire mumbles.

Maggie looks from Claire to Dean and back again. “One cherry pie,” she confirms slowly. “Should I bring out two forks?”

Over Dean’s fresh bout of laughter, Claire says loudly, “We’re not together!”

Maggie blinks a few times, and Dean can’t tell if she’s more shocked by his reaction or Claire’s. “Okay.”

As she leaves, Claire buries her head in her hands. Her voice is muffled by her hands and hair, but Dean can make out, “This is all your fault.”

“How?” Dean asks as he sucks on his straw. “It’s not my fault if you’ve got no game, kid.”

Claire slumps onto the table. “I used to.”

“Stalking doesn't count as ‘game’ or else Cas and me would have gotten together way before we did,” Dean says sagely.

Still face-down on the table, Claire flips him the bird.

“Have you spoken to Kaia lately?”

Claire doesn’t move for a long moment. When she finally raises her head, her expression is pinched. “Not since Spring Break last year. She was doing good, I guess.”

Awkwardly, Dean says, “It’s okay if you’re still hung up on her.”

Claire waves his assurances away. “It’s been a whole fucking year."

Dean sighs. “These things can take time. You were with her while a lot was going on in your life, and she was there for you through all of it. Just ’cause you're young doesn’t mean it meant less. But if you want to move on, sometimes you don’t have to wait until you’re 100% ready.”

“Thanks, Senpai.”

Maggie approaches carrying a large slice of cherry pie.

“Here you go,” Maggie says as she sets the plate down. “Anything else I can get you?”

“Nothing for me,” Dean butts in before Claire can get a word in edgewise, “But Claire, here, would like your number.”

Maggie goes bright red.

“Dean,” Claire hisses, completely mortified. “What the fuck?” She turns to Maggie. “Forget what he said. He’s a moron who doesn't know what he’s talking about.”

Maggie glances to Dean before settling back on Claire. “So… you don’t want it?”

Claire splutters, “I - no - yes, but not if-” She takes a breath, clearly trying to compose herself. “Yes, I would like your number. But not because he said so.”

“You don’t have to decide now.” Dean fishes out his wallet and takes out a five. “It won’t affect your tip,” he says with a wink as he shoves the bill under the napkin dispenser.

Maggie bites her lip. “I’ll think about it.”

Once Maggie’s left, Claire leans over the table and punches Dean, hard, in the arm. “Oh my god, are you actually braindead?”

“Hey, watch the pie!” Dean yanks his plate closer, out of Claire’s line of fire.

“What on earth possessed you to do that?” Claire demands.

Dean eyes his pie, planning his perfect plan of attack. “You needed a push in the right direction.”

Claire’s eyes flash. “I don’t need your help.”

“Tough luck, because you got it anyway,” Dean says with a shrug as portions off his first bite. “You’re only here for the summer. You don’t have the time to pine from across the softball field for a whole season.”

Claire frowns, saying warily, “I know Maggie isn’t Kaia.”

Dean points his fork, dripping with pie filling at her face. “So you gotta try a new strategy.”

“How?”

“Well, get yourself a capable wingman, for starters,” Dean says around his next bite of pie.

“Who? You?” Claire asks incredulously.

“Probably not,” Dean says, shuddering at the thought. He’d intervened with Maggie because was fucking funny as hell to see Claire get Cas-levels of awkward, but scoping out any more romantic prospects for Claire makes him feel sleazy. “I’m more of a pinch hitter.”

“What?”

“You really didn’t pay attention to a single softball game, did you?” Dean says, almost impressed.

Claire glares.

“They’re the guys called in last minute to fill in for a batter,” Dean says. He shovels the last bit of pie into his mouth, saying, “Did you keep in touch with Krissy?”

Claire shakes her head. “They were all Kaia’s friends first, so…”

“She got them in the divorce?” Dean says sympathetically.

Claire nods, her expression darkening.

“I know she’s back home for the summer too, taking care of her dad,” Dean says. “I bet she could use someone to hang with - if you ever get bored coding from our couch. Data entry for Charlie can’t be that exciting. Don’t tell her I said that.”

Claire rolls her eyes. “You don’t need to set up playdates for me, Dean.”

Dean shrugs. “Suit yourself. But none of Krissy’s other friends are back home - Josephine’s abroad, and the rest of ‘em are staying in their college towns.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Dean nods. That’s probably as good as he’ll ever get with Claire - she’s not the type to gratefully accept help. She’s more likely to complain to his face while going behind his back and doing it anyway. Which, fine, if it gets Claire out of their apartment and out of her funk.

On their way out, Maggie leaves her number on their receipt.

* * *

Claire slams the Impala door shut and relaxes in the passenger seat. “Well that was fun,” she says sarcastically as Dean twists around to pull out of the parking lot without mowing down an unfortunate 1999 Toyota Camry. “Let’s do that again soon.”

“Really?” Dean asks. At her blank stare, he adds, “I never know with you. Did you really have a good time?”

She fiddles with her seatbelt, biting her lip. “I won’t say this again, so cherish this moment: today was not the worst day I’ve ever had.” She huffs out a long breath. “It was almost fun, if you forget that shit in the diner.”

Dean laughs. “I’ll take it, I guess.” He taps his fingers against the wheel as he waits for an opening in traffic to merge onto the highway. “I’m glad.”

“Me too,” Claire mutters, so low he can barely hear her.

Dean lets the noise of the road take over for a few minutes: the reassuring rattling of the toy soldiers in the back air vent; his baby’s engine purring like a dream; the low ambient hum of her tires carrying them across miles of pavement.

Once he’s as calm as he’s gonna get, he says, “I have a question for you.”

Claire shoots him a look. “It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”

Dean shouldn’t have bothered asking. She really is incapable of being anything other than a teenager.

“I’m thinking of asking Cas to marry me,” Dean says quickly. As Claire absorbs his words, his heart kicks up to double-time, hammering away in his chest. “Would you be okay with that?”

“Why are you asking me?” Her eyebrows are drawn together in that same furrow that Cas always has whenever a student stumps him with a question.

“Because you’re his family.” He’s honestly surprised he has to say this part out loud.

“Shouldn’t you be asking Grandmother instead?” Claire asks.

Dean shakes his head. “Cas doesn’t care about her opinion - or Jimmy’s.”

Claire takes another long moment to think that over. “So… are you, what, asking my permission?”

“Yep.”

“To marry my uncle.”

Dean shoots her a look. “I really don’t think the concept is that hard to understand.” Claire’s a smart kid. She’s probably drawing it out on purpose.

“Yeah, but -” Claire breaks off, “It’s weird, though.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “You literally called me a weird old man yesterday.”

“But… not this weird.”

“It’s a yes or no question, Claire,” Dean reminds her testily.

Claire waves him off. “I mean, yes, obviously, but what the hell?” Her eyes narrow, accusatory. “Is this why you made me do this weird bonding thing with you today?”

“I -” Dean stutters. “I didn’t make you-”

“It is!” Claire crows. “Were you thinking about it for all 18 holes?”

“No,” Dean says shortly.

“I don’t believe you.” Claire grins. “Were you nervous?”

“No.”

“Yeah, I’m calling BS again. You gotta work on that poker face.” She sits back in her seat, her smugness practically radiating off her in waves.

Dean has the strangest urge to hug her.

Claire lets her hair fall over her face as she picks at her nails. “Just so you know,” she starts in an undertone, “I know it was you who convinced Uncle Cas to take me in. Back in high school.”

“Cas wanted to be there for you,” Dean says quickly, “He just didn’t know how. Honestly,” he says with a laugh, “Cas was scared he’d piss you off more, and then where would you go?”

“Really?” Claire asks, surprised.

Dean nods. “The guy is a great teacher, but he’s not great with kids if there isn’t a desk between them, you know? He's been working on it, though. Having you around taught him a lot.”

“That makes sense,” Claire says, almost to herself. “Anyway, I’ve only really known Uncle Cas while you were together. It’d be more weird if you didn’t get married.”

Dean doesn’t bother turning on the turn signal as he pulls over to the side of the road.

“What the-?” Claire starts, twisting in her seat to look out the window. “Why’d you - oof.”

Dean wraps his arms around her, squeezing tightly.

“Ugh,” she groans, “You smell.” But she hugs him back anyway.

#fanfic #supernatural fanfic #profoundnet #offscreen destiel #established destiel #claire novak #dean winchester #snark #banter #so much snark and banter #destiel fanfic #destiel #the story of us verse #rae writes fic

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bookwormbambi · 5 years

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Mega Update!

05/05/2019

Hello my friends! Sunday is here and that means that it is time for some big updates and I’m so excited that I’m practically jumping out of my chair (although all of the coffee may have contributed to that one).

So on the list of more recent things I just celebrated my 22nd birthday on Monday and I am so so grateful for all of the love and kindness that had been sent my way and I just really love everyone :-)

I’m also now about four months into my new job in restaurant management and it’s a bit crazy still but we do feel a lot more settled in and I feel a lot more knowledgable about my job. My schedule has been fairly hectic but I told them when they hired me that I would be going back to school in June which they are fully prepared for. Everyone’s been great, and I’ve been very grateful for the new experience and the learning experience that comes with first time management. I still have so much to learn but honestly I feel right at home with all of the work I do with people, and I feel like the skills I’m learning are great stepping stones when it comes to patient care, because the main thing I’m learning is how to work with people, to be more empathetic, and to motivate. Obviously restaurant life is a bit different than medicine, but it is a good stepping stone, at least in my opinion.

So that’s a little bit about my personal life, but I know that what y’all are really here for is the school updates. I’ve been teasing this new school program for months now and I’ve been waiting for so long to give you all some real updates. For a long time I was just waiting, and the plan was to make a sort of mini-series about the process of applying and (hopefully) getting in, but then everything went down in the course of a few days and I’m actually already at the end of the application process when I literally just turned the app in five days ago.

So, let’s talk about it.

If I haven’t already stated it, the program that I’m applying for is Respiratory Therapy. It’s a two-year program that ends with my receiving an Associate’s Degree in Science, as well as eligibility for board certification to become a licensed Respiratory Therapist and be in the field by the time I turn 24.

I first learned about this program about a year ago through a friend. Her boyfriend at the time was actually in the previous class and it actually came up in passing just from her telling me about how busy he was all the time. I was looking into other programs one day and saw RT pop up and I remembered her mentioning it, and I decided to look into it a bit more because, honestly, I had no idea what RT really even was, or what they did. The more I researched, the more intrigued and excited I got, and the more I could picture myself actually doing this sort of thing.

At the time the course was already in session, and the website said that the next application window would not be open until February 2019, so I waited. When February came along I checked the website every day waiting for the app to be posted and it actually wasn’t up until the 1st of March. I checked the website on a whim because I was in bed with the flu and bored and miserable and needed ANYTHING to get my mind off of how sick I was (and brother I was SICK). I printed out the application and filled it out without really reading the information packet because I was sick and reading was for losers who were healthy I guess. So I sat on the application for a little while because I knew that, at the very least, there was a $100 application fee which was not readily available to me because I had just started my new job, the restaurant had only just opened, and I was still doing a lot of transitioning with bills and insurance and all of that boring stuff.

When I finally mended I was ready to go to the school to turn the application in, and went through the information packet to figure out who I was actually turning it in to, when I found out I actually needed copies of my high school and college transcripts, and I had no idea how to get them. So I sat on the app for a few more weeks while I figured it out, ordered them, waited for them to get to me, etc. Then I got my transcripts and once again did not have an extra $100 lying around to go turn the app in. Or, when I did, I didn’t have the time to go to the school because my work schedule kept getting in the way.

So on my birthday (Monday) I asked my sister to take me to the school before we went on our outing so I could turn it in, because the application was due by 2 May (which was Thursday) and I was officially running out of time. So we decided we could be a little late to our lunch plans to turn it in.

The application alone is just the first part of everything. Once you turn it in, you have to take the TABE test (which is the Test of Adult Basic Education), along with five additional comprehensive math questions, and then you receive a date and time for your interview with the head of the department, some program alumni, and representatives from the hospital. My assumption was that once I turned in the application I would get an email telling me when the test was and that it would be like two or three weeks away, and that we’d go from there.

NOPE.

I went to the registration office, paid my application fee, then went to the counseling office to deliver the application, my receipt, and my transcripts. For starters, she was very pleased that I already had the fee and the transcripts taken care of. Then she told me the test was on Thursday (three days away) at 3pm.

So here I am, panicking a little bit because of how fast everything was moving, and I told her that I would be there, no problem, thanked her for her time, and went on my way back to our car. I had no idea what to expect from this test and having only literal days to prepare was not helping the anxiety.

So Thursday came along, I was able to get out of work a little bit early to have extra time to get to the school (which is only a little ways down the road) and get to the test. There was an optional information meeting beforehand which I was only able to make the last twenty minutes or so of, but I got the gist of everything, and it only made me more excited about the program. I met the head of the program, he seemed very kind. Then it was test time.

So the TABE is a 1 hour exam that tests basic reading, math, and grammar skills. Kind of like the standardized testing I had to take when I was in school. I took a semester off so I was a little rusty with quick test taking (each portion was roughly thirty questions with roughly fifteen minutes each) but I got through it, and I’m actually pretty sure I nailed it. The additional comprehensive math questions were a little bit tougher, but I feel pretty good about those too. These were five questions crafted by the department head which, according to him, were designed more to test out problem-solving abilities, and even if the answer itself wasn’t right, you’d still get points for how you got to your conclusion. Really only the last problem threw me, and I was feeling a bit rushed, but I got through it.

So I finished up, handed in my exam, and was given a slip of paper with my interview date and time - Tuesday at 2pm. Tuesday is, as I write this, the day after tomorrow. I’m stressing about the interview but he did tell us that the majority of the questions have nothing to do with Respiratory Therapy, but I will be asked about how well I understand what the program is, and, obviously, why I want to do this. I’ll also be asked basic things about who I am as a person to see if I would be a good fit. After that, I wait for the email telling me if I have been accepted, or if I am an alternate. If I’m accepted, I pay the tuition fee (which is not cheap and will require a loan), and classes start on 10 June.

So, what determines acceptance? Every year the program accepts a maximum of thirty students. The application process is all point-based. The thirty students with the most points will be accepted. Everyone else will be placed as an alternate, meaning that if someone who is accepted withdraws for whatever reason, an alternate can take their place, and will be asked in the order of their rank.

So now I’m going to spend the next two days prepping for this interview, which is going to be my very first interview that has anything to do with my career. Medicine has been my passion for as long as I can remember, and Respiratory Therapy feels like my true calling. I’m nervous, but I’m so excited. xx

#school #college #medicine #study #studyblr

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craziefuzi-kt · 6 years

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please help me

i’m 19 years old, and a transgender individual (ftm). I recently had a bilateral mastectomy with Dr. Beverly Fischer to treat adult onset gender dysphoria. I was billed $8650 on a care credit credit card that i opened specifically for this procedure.

i saved up around 2000 dollars, as i am a 19 year old working part time at minimum wage jobs and am responsible for certain bills (phone bills, car bills, medical bills, essentials, etc). i gathered all the paperwork, received a letter from a licensed therapist, requested an itemized receipt, called my insurance ahead of time to confirm the procedure was covered- and it was. i printed out a page from my benefits statement highlighting the codes that were covered and matched the procedures with the same codes. i had received a diagnoses from a licensed medical professional at chase brexton in Columbia Maryland months ahead of my surgery date and had been undergoing hormone replacement therapy, which is not required for this particular procedure but is mentioned in other procedures as a requirement. i prepared in every way i could think of. however, a month after my procedure, my insurance submitted an eob that stated my coverage was denied because modifier code 50 is not eligible for reimbursement.

after some research, and asking my doctor, it was revealed that modifier code 50 means Bilateral and it is indeed covered under my plan. i called my insurance, they hung up on me. i called again and they agreed to review my claim. a month later, we receive an email about an updated eob. they reviewed my claim and came to the conclusion that modifier code 50 is indeed eligible, and will be processed on 2 lines instead of one (essentially changing it to 2 single mastectomys). however, coverage is still denied. this time, there is no indicated reason as to why my coverage was denied, other than it simply is.

i will be making the request as to why my claim was denied, but at the moment i fear my insurance will continue leading me in circles and is determined not to reimburse me.

i’m very scared

my position at work is part time seasonal associate, and i may be laid off once the season is over. i’m 19 years old, i have no degree, my family is unable to help me with my bills.

please share this around, to anyone you know.

i am in desperate need of help and support. if you can, please make a donation to my kofi https://ko-fi.com/craziefuzi , every single bit counts and is immensely appreciated. i also work as a freelance digital artist, my commissions are not very frequent, and buying art from me is another way to support me.

thank you so much for your time, and please, spread this around. give me advice, support, anything you think could help, i greatly appreciate it.

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koinekid · 7 years

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Kame Island Romance

The first chapter of a new K18 romance/humor anthology series by koinekid is available on FanFiction.Net

You can also read here on Tumblr by clicking the Keep reading link below.

I’m looking for feedback/suggestions for the next chapter. Details are at the end of the post.

Rights to Dragonball and related properties are held by their respective owners. No infringement is implied or intended.

Kame Island Romance

By koinekid

1. The Article

Part 1

The magazine was an impulse buy as Eighteen did the weekly grocery shopping—her preferred chore as a member of the Kame Household since it combined her favorite activity with the ability, when deviating from Oolong’s prepared shopping list, to decide what she and her roommates ate for dinner. The magazine’s glossy cover boasted an article on twenty-five activities for budget-minded couples.

She thumbed through the pages as the clerk rang up her purchases. A throat clearing reminded her the magazine needed to be scanned as well. The annoyance in the clerk’s face had Eighteen considering how easy it would have been to push the cart out of the store without paying and flip off anyone who tried to stop her. Old habits and all.

Instead, she angled the magazine so its UPC label was visible, forcing the clerk to resort to her handheld scanner: Male clerks usually did so without complaint, but the female ones gave her attitude.

The clerk announced the total, and Eighteen handed over Roshi’s credit card. She stuffed the receipt into one of the bags and reluctantly did the same with the magazine before retrieving a capsule from her pocket. A group of bag boys groaned their disappointment at not being permitted to help the beautiful blonde with her bags.

Eighteen rolled her eyes. Did they think she would fall madly in love with the one who pushed her cart for her?

She returned the full capsule to the pocket of her denim vest and snapped it shut before walking outside. At a suitable distance from the store—for some reason, her new friends insisted they all hide their powers from ordinary people—she took to the sky.

The old perv would give her an earful about charging the magazine to his credit card when she got home. “That card is to be used for essentials only,” he would exclaim, though the genuine source of his upset would be her continued refusal to pick up his pornography when she did her shopping.

Roshi’s yelling amused her. True, she could roast him alive at a whim, but they both knew she wouldn’t. And the fact that he was willing to yell meant he considered her part of the family. It was a welcome change from his and Oolong’s cowering after she first accepted Krillin’s invitation to move in.

Krillin. The mere thought of the little man made her smile. After less than a year on the island, she could no longer imagine life without him. He was the first of his friends to treat her as a person rather than a machine, and when she was with him, sometimes—just for an instant—she forgot she was a cyborg and felt almost normal.

He was a true friend, though lately, the feelings she harbored for him went beyond friendship. But had she arrived at those feelings too late? Long ago, she overheard Krillin’s friends tease him about having a crush on her. Embarrassed, she loudly proclaimed in front of everyone that his actions that day hadn’t won her heart. Perhaps time or her own big mouth had soured him on the prospect of a romance with her. She hoped not.

The island with its small pink house came into view, and she spotted Krillin out front, clearing the beach of debris washed up during a recent storm. He took aim at a nearby piece of driftwood, and she startled him by blasting it first.

Though taken aback, he grinned as she lighted beside him.

“Hey, Shorty.”

“Hi, Blondie.”

Krillin showed spirit today. Normally, he didn’t tease back.

“Are the others here?” she asked.

“Nope, just you and me. And Turtle, of course.”

The ancient sea turtle that frequented the island lay near the front door. She nodded to it absently. If the old man were gone, he wouldn’t know about the magazine. Good, one less headache. She turned back to Krillin. “Help me put away the groceries?”

“Okay.”

When he cleared a spot on the kitchen counter, Eighteen triggered the capsule’s release, causing the bags to appear. They worked slowly, chatting all the while. It would be more efficient to divide the dry goods from the refrigerated and work them separately, but Krillin’s way of choosing a bag at random and handing her an item at a time led to more interaction and more than a few “accidental” touches. She liked Krillin’s way.

Still, it would be best to unpack the bag containing the magazine herself. The last thing she needed was for him to discover it and start asking questions before she was ready. Now, which bag was it?

“Hey, you bought my favorite cereal.”

She shrugged. “It was your turn.”

“That’s what you said last time.”

“I won’t tell if you…” The bag with the cereal—that’s where she stashed the magazine. “Krillin, why don’t you let me—?”

“Twenty-five activities for budget-minded couples?” He raised his eyes from the glossy cover and looked at her curiously.

Eighteen could feel the blush rising in her cheeks as she snatched the magazine away. “I, uh—”

The front door opened with a bang, diverting Krillin’s attention. Into the house stumbled two stacks of magazines with legs—Roshi and Oolong laden down with armfuls of what Eighteen assumed to be the pornography they nagged her to buy. She used the distraction to slip from the room unnoticed while Krillin took pity and asked just what their roommates thought they were doing.

“Someone forgot to bring capsules,” Oolong growled.

Roshi’s protest—“We wouldn’t need to worry about capsules if Krillin’s girlfriend picked up the magazines for us”—was the last thing she heard before reaching the top of the stairs.

Krillin’s girlfriend, eh? If they called her that behind her back, there could be hope for a romance yet, and somewhere in this article just might be the key to igniting it. She tapped the magazine against her chin. Time to start reading.

<<>>

“Do you think Eighteen is seeing anyone? She has to be, right? Why else would she want to read about couples’ activities?”

Yamcha sighed. Every Wednesday that his baseball team wasn’t on the road, he and Krillin sparred on one of the islands near Kame House. Ordinarily, it was the highlight of Yamcha’s week, but today his friend couldn’t stop talking about that magazine.

“Maybe she bought it for a different article. Magazines generally print more than one an issue.”

“Then, why did she blush when I read the title of that article?”

“You got me there.” Yamcha readied an energy blast and sent it toward Krillin, who easily swatted it aside, much to the taller man’s annoyance. “Eighteen is a beautiful woman. Did you expect her to stay celibate forever?”

“No,” Krillin said, “but I figured she would move out before she started dating. Then I wouldn’t have to see her with another guy.”

“Do you want her to leave?”

“Of course not. The island is her home. I just…” Krillin kicked at the dirt. “How would you feel seeing someone else dating the woman you—oh, right. Sorry, bro. I didn’t think—”

“I’m way over that, Krillin.” That wasn’t strictly true, but Yamcha thought it best to limit their conversation to one lovesick martial artist at a time. It might be too late for him and Bulma, but Krillin still had a shot with Eighteen. I won’t let you go through the same thing I did, even if I have to knock some sense into you to stop it.

Yamcha surged forward and threw a barrage of punches that knocked the distracted Krillin onto his back, then held out a hand to pull him to his feet.

“She isn’t your girl, you know.”

Krillin sighed. “Yeah, guess I’m just dreaming, huh?”

“No, you aren’t. Eighteen isn’t with you because you haven’t made a move. So, what if she is dating another guy? I bet if you asked her out, she’d drop him in a heartbeat.”

Krillin brightened. “You think so?”

“Absolutely. After everything you’ve done for her—”

“She doesn’t owe me anything, Yamcha.”

“I know, I know. I just mean that she already knows you’re a great guy. Even if she doesn’t think of you romantically now, telling her how you feel will plant the seed. And—worst case scenario—if she doesn’t want to go out with you, at least she’ll keep the guys she dates away from the island. She’s your friend if nothing else and wouldn’t want to hurt you.”

“Shouldn’t she already know how I feel? She was at the Lookout when I told you guys I like her.”

“Eighteen isn’t exactly normal.”

Anger flashed in Krillin’s eyes, and Yamcha felt a flicker of fear. “T-take it easy. I’m not belittling her for being a cyborg. But you said she doesn’t remember anything from before Gero modified her, right?”

Krillin nodded. “Not much, anyway.”

“That means he wiped out whatever dating experience she had. Chances are, she doesn’t even know how to interpret the signals you’re sending her.”

“You think Eighteen can’t tell I’m interested.”

“Yeah, bro, you need to spell it out for her. If you treated most girls half as well as you do Eighteen, they’d know. But ten-to-one she’s oblivious. Plus, she’s pretty, and guys will fall all over themselves to help a pretty girl. Heck, I’m tempted to hold doors for her myself.”

“She’d break your hand if you tried.”

Yamcha grinned. “But not yours.”

A smile tugged at the corners of Krillin’s mouth. “No, not mine.”

“You’re in, man. Ask her out. Look, there’s this physical therapist I’ve been flirting with. We could double.”

Krillin looked as if he were about to panic.

Yamcha held up his hands. “Okay, okay. That’s too much. How about a group thing?”

“Maybe.” Krillin nodded again. “But Eighteen and I have gone to parties together. How’s this any different?”

“We’ll make it more intimate and invite only couples.”

“That…could work.”

“Good, let’s head back, and you can ask her now. What? It isn’t as if you’ll give me a decent workout until you get this sorted anyway.”

<<>>

After escaping the kitchen, Eighteen locked herself in her room and worked through the article with a red marker, pausing only to watch from her window as Yamcha arrived to pick up Krillin for their weekly training session. Why didn’t Krillin spar with her? She’d certainly make a better partner than some weakling who gave up martial arts to play games for a living. Probably because you never asked, came her mind’s response. True, she conceded.

A box fan propped in her window circulated a cool breeze through the room. It was no hotter than usual indoors, but the noise drowned out the sound of her roommates stomping around on the first floor. Eighteen sat at her desk and twirled the marker between her fingers as she read:

Shared interests lead to couples spending more time together and engaging in livelier conversations. And the best part is that it doesn’t take a boatload of zenni for you and your sweetheart to have a good time. Here are 25 activities that won’t break the bank!

That sounded good to her. She could barely scrape together a pocket full of zenni, much less a boatload. Unless she absconded with the old man’s credit card or returned to a life of crime, whatever activity she chose would need to be cheap. Or better yet, free.

The article’s first suggestion—gardening—was out. They lived on a tropical island with limited real estate, so unless they wanted to plant another palm tree…

Her marker swept down and crossed out the illustrated flower next to the suggestion.

Join a local sports team. Interacting with new people…no. The point was to grow closer to Krillin, not make nice with strangers. She crossed through that one as well.

Photography…much too expensive unless she shoplifted a camera. But the thought of Krillin’s disappointment squelched the idea. She desired his respect as much as his affection, and though she might joke about it, she had changed. Whatever drove her and her brother to terrorize society in the past was no longer a part of her. She started to mark another X but paused.

Pictures of Krillin’s friends decorated the walls of his room. Eighteen even allowed him to add a few snapshots of her to his collection, pretending to be annoyed as he took them. A few more on display—ones where she actually smiled—would be gratifying. Krillin borrowed the camera he used to take those photos. They could always ask to borrow it again. She circled the suggestion and drew a question mark next to it.

Walk or hike. Again, limited real estate. Though she had spied a few decent parks while flying over nearby islands.

Stargazing. Lying on the roof and watching the stars—that could work. It would be a good time to talk, and if she worked up the courage, to lay her head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat, wait for it to steady, and then raise her mouth for a kiss. Was it getting hot in here?

PJ Day. Spend the entire day in your pajamas. Eighteen twisted her face. How was that an activity?

Camping. A sleeping bag for two. Hmm…

Have sex! Her cheeks burned. Did they need to be so blunt? Well, eventually, if it worked out between them, she’d love to. A memory surfaced of the last time she saw Krillin shirtless in the surf. Definitely love to. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and turned the fan to high. It was getting hot.

With her marker poised to strike, she read the next suggestion. Her hand stayed put. That…actually sounded perfect. If Krillin went for it.

Through the window she saw him and Yamcha approaching over the horizon. Closing the magazine and capping the marker, she shut them in her desk drawer and hurried downstairs. Best ask now before she lost her nerve.

Arms crossed over her chest, she watched Krillin land, her instinct to blurt out what she had in mind undermined by the other man’s presence. Krillin stammered out a greeting. For some reason, he seemed as nervous as she. Was she putting out a bad vibe?

No matter; it was now or never. “I want—”

“Eighteen—”

They shared a smile over interrupting one another.

“You first,” he said.

“I want to ask you something.”

“A-all right.”

She cut her eyes at Yamcha, her stare menacing.

He rubbed the back of his head and laughed nervously. “Guess I’ll let the two of you talk.” To Krillin, he said, “Does Friday night work for you?”

“I’ll call when I know for certain.”

“Friday?” Eighteen questioned once Yamcha flew away. That was the day she intended to ask Krillin out. “What’s Friday?”

Krillin took a deep breath. “That’s what I wanted to ask you about. But you were—”

“No, go ahead.”

“Thanks. Um, Yamcha and I are planning to host a game night—cards, board games, that sort of thing—and invite a few people over. Our group used to hold them years ago but sort of fell out of the habit.”

“You want to hold it here—on Friday?” Great, there went her plans. Though it wasn’t Krillin’s intent, she couldn’t help feeling rejected. It was a new feeling, and she didn’t like it. “I guess I can find somewhere to spend the evening.”

“No!” he shouted, then added more quietly, “No, we—I want you to—if you don’t mind—to take part. Be my partner, actually. We usually play teams, and well…”

“Partner, huh?” Was Krillin asking her on a date? It wasn’t exactly dinner and a movie, or even the activity she planned. But a low-key evening with a group they already knew could help ease them into a dating relationship. She rubbed her chin thoughtfully.

“Of course, if you’re not interested or if you already have plans—” Krillin’s brows furrowed.

“Yes.”

“Yes, you have plans?”

“Yes, I’ll be your partner.” She fought and failed to keep the silly grin off her face. “Who knows? It could be fun.”

Krillin looked relieved, though he averted his gaze and blushed when their eyes met. Had asking her out been that intimidating?

“Oh,” he said suddenly. “You wanted to ask me something.”

“It can wait.” Eighteen beckoned him to accompany her into the house, bumping his shoulder playfully as he came alongside her. “So, partner, what games are we playing?”

In response, Krillin only smiled.

TBC

Thanks for reading; reviews, likes, and reblogs are appreciated.

I’m also looking for feedback on what games should be played at Game Night. I’m especially interested in games that cause frustration and annoyance for the players. For example: Apples to Apples, a game which caused me no end of vexation and led me to question whether my girlfriend secretly hated me whenever she suggested we play.

I planned to make this story a one-shot but decided to split the story as I’ll likely be off the radar for the next few weeks studying for a certification exam I’ve scheduled for the end of the month.

Thanks to @chestnutisland and @deadlybeautydbz for keeping the flames of this fandom alive.

Note: Suggestions for activities in this chapter were taken from this blog post.

#krillin #android 18 #k18 #lazuli #dragonball #dragonball z #dragonball super #dragon ball #dragon ball z #dragon ball super #fanfic #fanfiction #koinekid #@koinekid #kame island #kame house #yamcha

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save-the-cronch · 7 years

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Tree bros at the parade head canon

•okay so Evan volunteered for the hospitals float to help out with the kids on it cause he actually doesn't feel nervous around kids •He stands on the float helping two patients, both around the age of five, toss candy to puthe kids watching •Connor was dragged to the parade by his family and really didn't want to go but his mom promised him ice cream from A La Mode and he can't refuse their ice cream • He also has memorized when Evan works at a la mode and knows he'll be working after the parade • Working at the shop actually helps Evans anxiety and when he gets to nervous his boss lets him sit in the back room under a blanket with two water bottles • Zoe totally knows about Connors crush on Evan cause once Zoe and Evan were partnered in their joint soph/junior history class last year and Connors face went red and he ran upstairs as soon as he saw Evan • Zoe totally teases Connor all the time about it • The only brother/sister moments they really have and they both actually enjoy it • ANYWAYS •Zoe is the first to see Evan as Connor is on his phone not paying attention •She elbows Connor in the ribs and points to the kid holding hands with two little kids •Connor looks up glaring, and Zoe just points •Connor rolls his eyes but immediately turns red when he sees Evan •EVAN AND CHILDREN!!!! •Connor can't help but think about adopting kids with Evan one day •He instantly shakes the thought from his head telling himself Evan likes Zoe •He thinks this cause he saw the letter Evan printed saying all his hope was pinned on Zoe •What Connor doesn't know is that Evans therapist is sort of a homophobe so Evan writes using Zoe's name instead of Connors •Evan thinks Connor hates him cause when Evan said that the letters weren't to piss off Connor, they were for his therapist and Connor just said 'whatever' shoved the letter back into Connors hands and left •Connor actually was acting that way cause he was jealous •OKAY I WENT OFF TRACK •BACK TO THE PARADE •Okay so Zoe calls out to Evan, waving like a mad man •Connor hides his face in his hands but peaks through his fingers so he can keep looking at Evan •The parade halted for whatever reason •Evan turns as he can hear Zoe calling his name and turns to look at her •Evan and Zoe are actually okay friends, especially since Zoe accidentally told him she liked Alana and Alana is what Evan would consider a great friend •Basically she actually talks to him •Zoe then found out that Evan likes Connor, he made her swear not to tell •Zoe points to Connor •Evan looks at Connor and can feel his face flame up but he's to far for the Murphy siblings to notice so he's safe •Zoe winks at Evan and Connor sees and he stands abruptly, suddenly very jealous •Zoe laughs at this and instantly tells Connor to "Chill out bro, you know I'm almost as gay as you are" •Connor grumbles but sits down laughing slightly •After the parade the Murphy parents take their kids to A La Mode as promised •Evan walks out of the back room tying the apron around his waist •He looks up and sees only Zoe at first and he smiles brightly at her •When she's done ordering her ice cream, Connor steps up and orders a double scoop of rocky road to which Evan says •"R-r-rocky road is m-y fav-av-ori-te" blushing and not looking Connor in the eye •Connor nods and says 'yeah, I know' •Evan blinks and Connor suddenly realizes what he said, grabs the ice cream and walks to the cashier, glaring at the floor and mentally hitting himself •Zoe laughs hysterically in the background •Evan's face is still glowing as he rings up the Murphy's order •Zoe whispers to Evan, telling him to write his number down for Connor on the receipt •Evan reluctantly does so •Zoe takes it before her parents can, and once they're back home she gives it to Connor •At first he's confused but then he sees a number at the bottom, with a little tree doodle and instantly knows it's Evans's number •Connor waits five minutes before he types in Evans's number and texts him •Hey Evan, it's Connor •Connor Murphy •Evan is still at work and doesn't see it until he gets home •He instantly replies retyping the message several times before actually sending it •Hey Connor! How are you •He instantly thinks it was a dumb question and sends a second text •Sorry, you don't even need to tell me •Connor laughs and tells him he's doing fine •They text all night and into the early morning •It's also the summer before their senior year jsuk •They continue to text and eventually Connor mans up and asks Evan if he wants to hang out with him •For the rest of the summer they're always together •Cynthia and Heidi are both ecstatic and actually find one another on face book and they become best friends, and place bets on who asks out the other and when •Heidi wins •Connor asked out Evan in October, before homecoming, which was their second 'date' •They share their first kiss home coming night because Connor knows Evan is a sucker for cliche shit like that •They spend home coming night at Evan's house, cuddling and watching movies •'Come on Connor please! It's one of my favorites' •'Evan we are not watching some silly rom com •But ten things I hate about you is brilliant! And it's a spin on Taming of the Shrew! Who doesn't love Shakespeare •That's right Evan is a Shakespeare nut •'Evan, no one likes Shakespeare' •Evan gives him the sad puppy dog eyes cause it's Connors weakness •Connor groans but hands Evan the remote, shoving his face in the couch pillow •'Fuck you Evan Hansen. I'm suppose to be the edgy stoner kid' •'Well, not today Murphy' •Evan definitely feels more confident around Connor cause he's use to him •The next morning when Heidi comes home from work at seven, she sees her son and his boyfriend cuddled on the couch and she snaps a few pictures to send to Cynthia

#oh wow another one #tree bros #connor x evan #evan hansen #dear evan hansen #connor murphy #evan x connor

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audiovisualrecall · 5 years

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Aaaaaaaaaa

Okay so tomorrow i have to:

Email a reply to alan about meeting up to discuss the painting instructor job thing (monday afternoon works for me yes!). Gotta draft the email first and then check it over and then send it.

Print out order receipts for the recent orders, make an organized list of what i need to print/cut/etc and to whom and where its going, and then print out stickers and cut them out and pack them. If theyre all in the us i can drop the envelopes in the mailbox. Min goal for the day is to at least get everything organized and in one place? I have at least 4 of the stickers already printed...

Talk to my therapist in the morning...

Get the laundry from the basement in the morning

Work on more paintings and also brainstorm more stuff related to the recreational painting thing, like a name, flyer design concepts, etc

Email at least 1 of 3 professors to ask if i can list them on job apps as a reference. Goal is to send to all 3 of them eventually but start small...

Get out of bed and eating bkfst Before noon. Preferably before 11am. Even better before 10am...but yeah. (Today i ate cereal at 1pm.)

Try to wrap my brain around the passage of time, the concept of calendars and schedules and scheduling, and see if i can figure out something there....this is vague but like, im going to potentially have a job soon where i have to make my own schedule??? And make decisions about it?? And schedule things for the business basically and in a way that works for customers and with school calendars and jewish holidays in mind as well as myself and also alan/kathy/their store. Hahaha. I dont think i can manage this in one day. I need to know how other adhd'ers do responsibility stuff. Ahajfjbauhdjdmsgjsm

Not even gonna get into things i want to do like doodle gem au tonys and stevetony, and read fic, and search for a new bed, and at some point leave the house for more than just shovelling snow/ice.

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ayetothezee · 4 years

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What it’s like to do my job.

I get to the office by 7:45 to open the doors and make sure I’m logged in by 8:00

I print off the next days schedule so that I can verify everyone’s insurance is still active and call to remind them about their appointments and complete a log showing if I made contact with the client. This normally gets worked on throughout the day. And once it’s done I scan it to 2 network folders.

I run a report every Monday that shows all of the psychiatric appointments scheduled for the next week and make sure they have an updated and signed treatment plan. If they need one done I schedule them with the therapist.

I run a report every Monday that shows if a client needs us to send a request for services to the insurance company. If they do, the therapist fills it out and I submit it online, or fax it in. Then scan the documents and the approval to a network folder. If it’s denied we submit it until approved.

I run a report every Monday that tells us if a service was unable to be billed and I have to find out why and fix it if possible. If it’s not able to be fixed I complete a form that voids the service for that day. We regularly get emails of other services that didn’t get caught and complete a form that voids those services as well.

I also complete a request for some clients who’s insurance does not want to pay for their medication and have to provide documentation that supports the request for coverage. But a lot of times they get denied anyway. Once approved I scan to a network folder. If denied I submit it until approved

I am the one that orders supplies for the office and have to make sure that everyone has what they need and remember which brands everyone asks me to buy. I also keep everything organized. Once it’s been received I complete a purchase requisition and submit it and file the hard copy in a binder.

I handle the refill requests for all 3 of the psych doctors. Although 2 of them hardly check their email so I will have to follow up with them days in a row and the manager of the doctors just tells me to wait for their response instead of trying to help get the clients their medication. And often I have to speak to the client as well as the pharmacy AND look in the client chart to find out if they even need a new script or if they just need to call the pharmacy to fill it.

When we have a new client I have them sign our new client paperwork wich consists of 4 documents, a questionnaire, and have a state form that must be completed. If it is for substance use there are 2 extra forms and an extra questionnaire. If it’s for a DUI we add another questionnaire as well as complete at least 4 releases of information so that we can communicate with the court the transportation cabinet and others. If the client has a probation officer that’s another release and if they have a friend or family member that we talk to on behalf of the client we do one for them too. And a lot of these clients also need one for department of community based services. Each of these documents are scanned into the client chart as well as uploaded to their respective network folders. And if the client is between 12-25 we complete a screener and I have email the therapist reminding them to do it, put a message on the schedule to remind them, and email the screeners to corporate.

Once a month we collect the voter registration pages from the client questionnaires and submit them to someone at our corporate office.

Once a months our child therapist completes a head start observation form. I fill out the billing information for that and submit both documents to corporate.

I also regularly check our client charts to make sure we have updated contact information and that they are not missing anything that would prevent the system from billing their insurance.

Now, with Covid I am also cleaning the lobby every hour. Doing a screener when anyone comes in which has to be scanned to a network folder. and setting up our laptop because clients are seeing the therapist over zoom here at the office. Our community is small and poor. Most people don’t have access to internet at home and cannot keep an appointment unless they come in.

And anytime that we order lunch I am the one who takes the orders and calls to place it and often times am the one who picks it up. Alone. While someon will watch the front for about 10 minutes and anything that I miss I have to handle when I get back. And throughout my lunch break am answering more calls and emails and setting up zoom because our doctors don’t take a lunch break and a lot of clients can only call us during that time

If we take money I enter it and fill out a cash drawer log at the end of every day and take the money to the bank and copy the bank receipt as well as the deposit ticket and email all of that to our billing specialist that covers deposits at corporate. These have to be done the day of despite our bank closing at least an hour before we do.

And I’m doing all of this and I’m sure I’ve missed something alone while answering phone calls and messages left by people who I couldn’t answer because I was on the phone already, doing favors for the therapists, answering the multitude of emails that I’m getting from people asking me if something got done or if I will do something for them or telling me I have to do something right now and if I don’t they either call me or complain to my supervisor and trying to not to lose my God damned mind and do it all with a smile despite wanting nothing more than to burst into tears and leave here and never come back.

And yet to everyone else I am just “the front desk girl” or “the secretary” and everyone keeps trying to tell me that I need to do something a certain way or that I need to get one thing done before another and people try to say I’m not doing this job good enough. And I blame myself for things getting looked over. I think that I’m what’s wrong in this situation. Why can’t I seem to get everything done? Why did I forget to tell the therapist this morning that her 9:00 client wanted a phone call instead of coming into the office? Why can’t I remember The reasoning for a cancelled appointment? Why can I not remember if someone answered the phone when I called or not? Why did I not make it to that list of 14 clients I got on last Thursday who missed their appointments and needed to be rescheduled?

And some days I don’t leave here until 5:30. Before the pandemic and after it’s over we have group therapy Wednesday’s until 5:30. So on an average week I spend about 9 hours and 45 minutes a day at my workplace and it takes me 30 minutes to get from home to work and vice versa. And counting the time I spend getting ready for work, out of a 168 hour week I spend 55 hours doing something for my job. That leaves me 113 hours. If I sleep 8 hours every night I have 57 hours left. 57 hours in a week to spend time with friends, family, go to therapy, exercise, take self care time, indulge in a hobby, do my chorse, look over bills, and anything else.

And I’m trying to this while struggling with my mental health and chronic physical illness.

I just want some peace.

#work #adulting #receptionist #clerical

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dumbass-shark-gay-blog · 4 years

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Massage Therapists – Prevent Insurance Fraud

In my previous article “Massage Therapy and Insurance Fraud”, I discussed at length the situations in which a massage therapist may find him or herself in a case of fraudulent billing. It’s important to remember that direct billing of an insurance company is a privilege that our profession has worked very hard to achieve. Fraudulent billing not only detracts from the integrity of the massage therapy profession, it also calls into question your integrity as a therapist and person. Your insurance billing identification should be treated like your passport, driver’s license and social security/insurance number, and protected at all times. Assuming that you yourself aren’t committing insurance fraud, I have some suggestions which may help you avoid this slippery legal and professional slope, and protect your license while working in a business. 1) If you are a contractor, you have the right to establish your cancellation/no-show policy and conduct your business as you see fit (within reason). Ask the clinic and co-worker what their policies are concerning missed appointments and non-compliance. If their policies seem reasonable, then it is to your advantage to be consistent with the business in which you work. If you are an employee, unfortunately you are pretty much stuck with following the guidelines of your employer. 2) If front-office staff is responsible for booking the appointments on your behalf, ask them if clients are advised when booking appointments of the no-show and cancellation policies. No? This makes it a little more awkward, but I would suggest – if the front office staff will not, or forgets, to mention the policy – creating a waiver which is part of the health history intake. This waiver should state your policies, and you should not only ensure it has been read and signed, you may also want to verbalize this to your clients before treatment. 3) Do you do your own billing? If not, whether or not you have signed a waiver permitting front-office staff to bill for you, you need to keep a close eye on your account. If the business in which you work has asked you to sign a waiver permitting them to bill on your behalf, you may want to provide your own addendum which states that you do not give permission to bill on your behalf for i) treatments which didn’t occur or not provided by you ii) last minute cancellations or no-shows, iii) treatments other than the accepted massage therapy treatment modalities. (consult your professional association or college to find out which modalities are grouped under massage therapy in your jurisdiction). You may also want to include that the liability lies with the management for any of the above situations. Don’t forget to get the clinic or spa manager to sign the addendum to the waiver. (realistically, I doubt that many clinic or spa managers will do this, but it’s worth a try. Remember that your billing number is your responsibility, and if no such agreement exists, you will likely take the heat if the insurance fraud allegation comes up) 4) Every week or so, compare your insurance account with the list of treatments you have provided. If you notice that there are charges for treatments that never occurred or you didn’t provide, I recommend that you bring it to the attention of the clinic/business owner, and front office staff in writing. Give everyone the benefit of the doubt, and assume that this was an error. Advise the clinic that you will have to notify the insurance company to reimburse them – note, however, that if you haven’t received the money, you expect the clinic/business to reimburse the insurance. A refusal on their part to do this is not a good sign of their honesty. If this is the case, send them another letter and … 5) Mail yourself a copy for good measure (and don’t open it, put it in a safe place. The postmark can be used to verify dates should the law ever become involved). Use registered mail to send the clinic the letter and print the receipt of when the clinic received it. 6) In the case of 4 & 5, you may need to find another place to practice, so get moving on that – after all, all signs would indicate that perhaps that the business where you work is involved in fraud, or is, at the very least, unethical. Do you really want your name and professional reputation associated with that? I didn’t think so. Keeping these above points in mind will help you maintain your professional integrity and raise the transparency of the profession. Only by doing so will the massage therapy profession position itself as a health care industry deserving of insurance billing privileges.

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theanxietyclinic · 5 years

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Therapy Payment and Privacy Policies

Insurance

Veterans, RCMP and Service Member are now covered for Direct Billing to Blue Cross.

Services may be covered in full or in part by your health insurance or employee benefit plan. Please check your coverage carefully by asking the following questions:

Do I have mental health insurance benefits?

Are my benefits restricted to certain types of providers?

Does my insurance cover Registered Psychotherapists?

What is my deductible and has it been met?

How many sessions per year does my health insurance cover?

What is the coverage amount per consultation?

Is approval required from my primary care physician?

If I reside outside of Canada, will my health insurance cover my consultations?

Official receipts, that you may require for insurance claims, can be sent as a scanned PDF upon request.

Payment

Cash, checks and most credit cards accepted for payment. Skype, Email and Telephone Sessions, as well as initial appointments (Introductory Sessions) are payable in advance. In-person sessions are payable prior to, or during session(s). You may also pay via PayPal — just ask to be sent an invoice. Please print your confirmation of payment page as a record of your payment for all other purposes. Pre-payment of your session is available online and encouraged so as to free up time in your session to focus on your session, and not matter of administration.

Cancellation/Refund Policy

If you do not show up for your scheduled appointment (either in person or online), and you have not notified us via email or voicemail at least 24 hours in advance, you will be required to pay the full cost of the session. We will ALWAYS confirm receipt of your cancelation email or voicemail. We are sorry to have to implement this policy, but the time that is not spent with you can be spent helping others — but only with sufficient notice. All payments are final and non-refundable.

Any information including, but not restricted to your name, email and contact information, registration, information request, payment terms or details is kept COMPLETELY CONFIDENTIAL AND IS NOT SHARED with any party without your express written consent.

Contents of all sessions are considered to be confidential. Both verbal information and written records about a client cannot be shared with another party without the written consent of the client or the client’s legal guardian. Noted exceptions are as follows:

Duty to Warn and Protect: When a client discloses intentions or a plan to harm another person, the mental health professional is required to warn the intended victim and report this information to legal authorities. In cases in which the client discloses or implies a plan for suicide, the healthcare professional is required to notify legal authorities and make reasonable attempts to notify the family of the client.

Abuse of Children and Vulnerable Adults: If a client states or suggests that he or she is abusing a child (or vulnerable adult) or has recently abused a child (or vulnerable adult), or a child (or vulnerable adult) is in danger of abuse, the mental health professional is required to report this information to the appropriate social service and/or legal authorities.

Prenatal Exposure to Controlled Substances: Mental Healthcare professionals are required to report admitted prenatal exposure to controlled substances that are potentially harmful.

Minors/Guardianship: Parents or legal guardians of non-emancipated minor clients have the right to access the clients’ records.

Insurance Providers (when applicable): Insurance companies and other third-party payers are given information that they request regarding services to clients. Information that may be requested includes, but is not limited to: types of service, dates/times of service, diagnosis, treatment plan, description of impairment, the progress of sessions, case notes, and summaries.

Notice Regarding Electronic Communication

Users of email, text, audio and or video (ie SKYPE/Doxy) and other forms of electronic communication are informed that these forms of communication can never be guaranteed to be secure or guarantee privacy. Consequently, a users participation in any electronic form of communication with TheAnxiety.Clinic or any of its therapists is deemed acknowledgment and acceptance of any and all implicit or explicit risks, and the user agrees to hold TheAnxiety.Clinic and or its therapists, administrators and any and all parties connected to Genesisquared, fully harmless in the event of a privacy breach, information loss, or damage, howsoever caused.

And the details…

Welcome

Welcome to TheAnxiety.Clinic, Todd Kaufman, TheWorkshopClinic and the Anxiety Release Protocol (ARP) and their associates and affiliates’ website and online services and their associates and affiliates” or “We” or “Us”). This policy is intended to cover the uses for all of the Site, although additional conditions, restrictions and privacy policies may apply.

Health care disclaimer

The content, products and services offered herein are here to educate consumers on health care and medical and psychological issues that may affect their daily lives. Nothing in the content, products or services should be considered, or used as a substitute for, medical advice, diagnosis or treatment of any sort, including mental health treatment or therapy.

This site and its services and or offerings do not constitute the practice of any medical, psychological, nursing or other professional health care advice, diagnosis or treatment.

You should always talk to your health care provider for diagnosis and treatment, including your specific medical needs. None of the products or services offered through this website represents or warrants that any particular service or product is safe, appropriate or effective for you. We advise users to always seek the advice of a physician or other qualified health care provider with any questions regarding personal health or medical conditions. If you have or suspect that you have a medical/psychological problem or condition, please contact a qualified health care professional immediately. If you are in North America and are experiencing a medical emergency, please call 911 or call for emergency medical help on the nearest telephone.

Intended for users 18 and older.

The Site is intended for use by individuals 18 years of age or older. This website is not directed for use by children under the age of 18. Users under the age of 18 should get the assistance of a parent or guardian to use this site.

Your privacy rights

We do not share your personal information with unaffiliated third parties for their direct marketing purposes. We may, however, share your personal data as necessary with any of our entities or affiliates. You have the right to contact us and opt-out of such sharing for marketing purposes.

Contact information

If you have a question or concern regarding your privacy, please contact TheAnxiety.Clinic, Todd Kaufman, TheWorkshopClinic and the Anxiety Release Protocol (ARP) and their associates and affiliates’ website and online services’ using the contact information below:

TheAnxiety.Clinic

47 Queens Park Cres E

Toronto, ON

M5S2C3

Canada

#mental health #therapy #counseling #psychotherapy #psychologist

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