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justheretobreakthings · 3 years

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Hold On Loosely

So, this was originally in the process of being written for a zine, but I wound up dropping out due to aphobia in the project. Which, well, sucked, and was one of the contributing factors of my less-than-great mood these past few days.

But, I wound up finishing the fic as its own thing, so I hope y’all enjoy. Have some pre-canon broganes fluff to lift the spirits.

Word Count: 2,545 Characters: Keith & Shiro Read on AO3 My house, my rules, my ko-fi

“Ooh, you know what looks good?” Shiro said, looking up from the table’s menu to grin over at Keith. “The chocolate lava cake. What do you say, you wanna split it with me?”

Keith shrugged, tilting his head to glance at the menu as well. He swallowed his bite of steak before slowly replying, “I dunno, it’s - it’s kind of expensive.”

“I told you, Keith, tonight’s my treat. Come on, if you don’t split it with me, I’ll just order it and eat the whole thing myself, and I will definitely get sick. So…”

“All right, fine, I’ll have the cake.”

“Great!” Shiro’s grin broadened as he waved their waitress down to place the order. “Every celebration needs cake,” he added to Keith as the waitress left. “Anyone who tries to limit it to birthdays is just close-minded.”

“I still don’t really think we, um, need to be celebrating,” Keith said.

Shiro huffed in mock exasperation. “Bud, your grades were great, you’re being too hard on yourself.”

“I didn’t even get all A’s or anything. And I had a C in Professor Antonsen’s class - ”

“Keith, I assure you, her class is the hardest in the whole academy. Matt didn’t even get an A in it. Chin up.” Shiro reached across the table with his fork, the last bite of his salmon still on the tips of the prongs, and tilted Keith’s head up to look at him. “Hey. I’m really proud of you. I mean it. You did great work, and you deserve to celebrate.”

Keith stared at him for a moment, as though mulling his words over, then a tiny smile escaped him as he tilted his head down and ate the bite of salmon off of Shiro’s fork, too quickly for the latter to move it out of the way.

“Barbaric,” Shiro gasped. “Have you no manners at all?”

Keith just smirked, making a show of chewing loudly before he swallowed and said, “Still, we didn’t have to go somewhere all fancy like this. I would have been fine with just burgers or pizza or something.”

“Well, sure, but I was really in the mood tonight for a place with tablecloths, you know? It’s a big night.”

“They’re just grades.”

Shiro shrugged and set his fork down. “All right, time for me to confess. The reason I decided to go fancy is that we’re actually celebrating two things tonight.” Keith raised a brow, and Shiro went on. “I actually got some pretty big news today. And since Adam’s busy until tomorrow and my parents are in another time zone, you, my dear friend, get to be the first to celebrate it with me.”

“What is it?” Keith asked.

“Now, I will tell you, they’re not officially announcing this until Monday, so don’t go spreading the word to your classmates before then and ruining the surprise.”

“What surprise?”

“So if anyone asks, you don’t know anything about it, okay? You’re gonna be just as excited by the announcement as - ”

“Shiro,” Keith groaned. “Now you’re just doing this on purpose.”

“You caught me.” Shiro smiled. “So. Guess who has been officially selected as the youngest pilot ever to lead a Garrison exploration mission.”

Keith’s eyes slowly widened. “You - you got the Kerberos spot?”

“I got the Kerberos spot.”

“That’s awesome!” Keith breathed. “Holy - you’re going straight to the edge of the solar system! Oh my god, you’re gonna be in textbooks, Shiro! You’re gonna be, like, a legit historical figure. That’s huge.”

“We always knew Earth’s atmosphere couldn’t contain me forever,” Shiro said with a smirk. “So, you’ve managed to get settled into the Garrison pretty well by now? Fitting in with your class? I know you’re doing well grade-wise so…”

“I guess, yeah,” Keith said with a shrug. “Why?”

“Nothing,” Shiro said, waving his fork dismissively. “I’m going to be pretty busy for a while, is all, and then I’ll be gone for the mission after. Just wanna make sure you’re ready for that.”

“Oh.” Keith's smile flickered, the corners of his mouth drooping for half a second before returning to their place. “Yeah. Yeah, ‘course I’m ready. I mean, I - I knew you were gunning for that spot on the mission, so it’s - so, yeah, you know, I knew this was coming. I mean obviously it was coming, you’re the best pilot in - you’re, um, you’re definitely - ”

“Keith?” Shiro raised his brow. “You all right?”

“Yeah. I hadn’t really thought about, uh, what I would be, um - ” He drummed his fingers against the table, then moved to lift his knife and fork and start carving up what remained of his steak. “But that’s - that’s not important. It isn’t. We’re celebrating. And - and - and you got the Kerberos spot, and I got my grades, and that’s good, this is good news, it is, I’m happy! I’m happy for you. I’m very - ”

Gently Shiro reached across the table and laid his hand on Keith’s arm. “You’re starting to carve up your plate, there, bud.”

Keith blinked down at his knife, then, with a slow breath, he dropped the cutlery and pulled back. “Sorry. Sorry, I wasn’t… paying attention. Shit, hang on.” He ground the heels of his hands into his eyes and mumbled, “I’m okay. I’m fine. Got a little… overwhelmed… by the good news. Just need a minute to, uh, to process.”

“Everything all right here?” came a soft voice behind Shiro’s shoulder, and he jumped in his seat, banging his knee on the table and whipping his head around to see their waitress, their cake in her hands and her face apologetic. “Sorry,” she said. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Shiro said. “You’re fine. Thanks, it looks delicious.”

“Can I, uh, get you anything else?” the waitress asked, glancing toward Keith who was hastily trying to scrub at his eyes as she set the cake down on the table. “A drink refill or… some tissues, maybe?”

“We’re fine, thank you,” Shiro replied. “Uh, take your time with the check, please.”

The waitress nodded and hurried from the table. Keith, meanwhile, pushed his chair back, his head down and hair falling into his face as he mumbled, “I think I need the restroom…”

“Hey, hang on,” Shiro said, holding out his arm again as Keith stood. “Keith… you know, it’s okay if you’re upset.”

“I’m not upset,” Keith snapped.

“Uh-huh. I’ve told you before, bud. If you’re upset - or any other emotion - ” He added when Keith opened his mouth to protest - “You can tell me. I’m not gonna judge you for it, you’re not gonna be punished. It’s not good to bottle things up. Come on, talk to me.”

“It’s… nothing,” Keith said. He sighed and collapsed back into his chair. “It’s stupid. Sorry, I’m ruining tonight, aren’t I?”

“You’re not ruining anything.”

“Yes I am. You took me out to celebrate and I’m freaking out on you and raining on your parade and - and I should be happy about this. I am happy about this, I’m happy for you, so there’s - there’s nothing even to talk about.”

“Mmm.” Shiro tapped a finger thoughtfully against the edge of the cake plate. “You know, you’re allowed to feel more than one thing. You can be happy for me and still be upset. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Sure, but - ”

“Want me to start?”

Keith frowned. “Start what?”

“Sharing.” Keith still looked just as baffled, so Shiro continued. “I’m thrilled about the news, and I’m excited about the upcoming Kerberos trip, and I’m really proud of myself for having made it this far, especially so early in my career.”

“You should be,” Keith said with a fervent nod.

“But I’m kinda freaking out too. It’s a lot of pressure and responsibility, and I’m scared of messing up. There’s a ton of prep work that has to be done before the mission, which is going to be stressful and exhausting. And the mission is going to last for months, so I don’t know how claustrophobic or homesick or lonely I’ll get. I know I’m going to miss you. You, and Adam, and everyone else on Earth.

“I’m happy, yeah, but I’m all those things too. It’s a lot. But, I gotta admit, putting it all out there, out loud, it’s a bit of a relief. It’s on the table instead of on my shoulders, so now I don’t have to think so hard about what I’m dealing with, I can move on to actually dealing with it. And now it’s your turn”

Keith paused before saying, “I feel like you missed your true calling as a psychologist.”

“I’m young, I’ve got time to chase a bunch of callings. No changing the subject.”

Shiro waited patiently as Keith fidgeted in his chair, chewing at his bottom lip and focusing intensely on the dishes in front of him. Finally, though, he spoke up, so softly that Shiro had to strain to hear him: “I guess I’m… not ready… for you to go.”

Slowly Shiro nodded. “That’s understandable, Keith. I - ”

“It’s not, though,” Keith bit out. “It’s not like I haven’t been on my own before, right? And, hell, I’m a couple years off from being an adult, I shouldn’t - I shouldn’t still be - and it’s selfish, right? This is, like, your dream, Shiro, and all I’m thinking about is how I’m gonna - how I’m - ”

“Hey, hey,” Shiro said, keeping his voice low and soothing as he watched Keith bunch up the edge of the tablecloth in his fists. “It’s not selfish. Okay? I don’t want you thinking that for a moment. It’s you feeling your feelings, and there’s nothing selfish about that. If you were selfish, you wouldn’t be nearly so concerned about how your reaction is making me feel, right?”

Keith only shrugged. “And Keith, what’s this about being on your own?” Shiro continued. “Me being gone doesn’t mean you have to be alone.”

“It - it kinda does,” Keith mumbled. “I, um, I - I may have exaggerated, a bit, um, how I’m fitting in with my classmates.”

Shiro narrowed his eyes. “Are those other pilots still giving you a hard time? If they are, we need to go to your CO, file a report.”

Keith shook his head. “No, they aren’t - there haven’t been any other incidents or anything, just - I’m still not really - I’m not part of the group or anything. We have classes together, but that’s all. And you know I can’t get an ‘Adam’ of my own, I’ve - I told you about that, about how I don’t - so I don’t have friends, I don’t, not really. And I definitely don’t have a ‘partner’ or whatever, so that just leaves family, and - well, that’s you. Just you. That’s all I’ve got. And so if you’re gone…”

He let out a sniff and wiped his nose with the tablecloth. There was only so much the Garrison could do to instill table manners into their cadets. “Forget it. Like I said, it’s nothing.”

“That’s not nothing, Keith,” Shiro said. “That’s… that’s fair. That’s fair and valid and I’m glad that you told me.”

“Kinda ruined the whole ‘celebration’ vibe, though.”

“We’ll have plenty of time to celebrate before the mission. I, um - did - were you always worrying about this? The whole time I’ve been applying for the Kerberos spot?”

“I dunno. I wasn’t really thinking about it. Was trying not to, you know? It, um, wasn’t important.”

“When am I ever going to finally convince you that your worries are important?”

“More important than Kerberos?”

“Equally.”

Keith snorted. “Shiro - ”

“You know, in the coming months I’m gonna be spending a lot of time preparing for the mission. Maybe we should come up with a game plan so you can do the same.”

“Shiro, you barely managed to convince the Garrison to let me into the academy, you’re never gonna convince them to let me join the mission.”

“Much as I’d love to have you, that’s not what I meant,” Shiro said with a little smile. “I meant that while I’m getting ready to go to Kerberos, we can get you ready to stay on Earth. We’ll go through the things you’re worried about, the things that you need to prepare for, and we’ll start planning for them.”

“How do you mean?”

“Like, okay, you’re worried about being lonely while I’m away. So let’s plan for that. We can talk to Adam, and Colleen, make sure you’re able to turn to one of them if you need anything at all. And we can even schedule some weekends out, get you some vacation from the Garrison to wind down. If you’re worried about keeping up with schoolwork while I’m around, we can contact your instructors to let them know, maybe see about any extra credit work you can do while I’m gone.”

Keith nodded slowly. “Okay. And, um, if I’m worried about… you know…” The tips of his ears went red as he mumbled, “Missing you?”

Shiro resisted the urge to tease him about the blush of embarrassment and instead broadened his smile. “I’m gonna miss you too, you know. What kind of brother would I be if I didn’t?” Keith bit his lip, and Shiro would bet any amount of money that it was to hold back a smile. “We’ll figure something out. We’ll make sure to get a ton of pictures together before I go, for starters, and I can let you babysit my hoverbike while I’m gone.”

Keith’s mouth dropped open. “You’ll let me be in charge of your hoverbike?”

“Promise not to crash it?”

“I… can’t make that promise.”

“Promise you’ll try not to crash it?”

“That I can do.”

“I’ll take it. So we’ve got a plan in place, and we have plenty of time to come up with more. And if it helps, I swear, I’ll come back from Kerberos as soon as I possibly can. Sound good?”

“Yeah.” Keith nodded. “Sounds good.”

“Do you need a hug too?”

“No,” Keith said, spreading his arms out to accept one anyway. Shiro scooted his chair around the table to embrace him, rubbing Keith’s back as the latter sighed into his shoulder, and he didn’t let go of the hug until he felt Keith finally pull away.

“Now,” Shiro said, scooting back into place. “This cake has just been waiting to be eaten, and we should really help out.” He nodded toward Keith’s dessert fork . “Come on, I’ve seen the memes, I know you love cake.”

Keith let out a breath of a laugh as he lifted his fork and started to cut off a piece from the cake. “If you’d seen all the memes, you’d know I also love pizza.”

“Well, in a few years, when we’re celebrating you getting your first big mission and breaking the youngest-pilot record, we can go out for pizza instead. Deal?”

“Deal.” They both took their first bites of the cake at the same time, and Keith rolled his eyes as Shiro made a show of moaning in contentment at the taste. “By the way,” Keith said as he moved in for his second bite, “I really am happy for you. Cadet’s honor, I am.”

“Thanks, Keith,” Shiro said with a grin. “I’m happy too.”

#vldgen #vld fic #keith #shiro #broganes #my writing #fic: hold on loosely

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imagine-a-life-like-this · 3 years

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Was It You? Ending A (K.TH)

Warnings : mentions of cancer, mentions of a car accident, memory loss

Word Count : 2677

Synopsis : after losing all but one of her memories, she makes it her mission to find the boy in her memory. fate seems to do her work for her, but is he really who she’s been looking for?

Author’s Note : this is going to have 2 endings. ending b will be posted tomorrow. i hope you enjoy!

“Happy Birthday!” He exclaimed with a wide smile on his face. I met his eyes and felt content now that he was here. “I got you a present.” He pulled out a small box with a pink ribbon tied into a bow on top. I carefully took it from his hands and opened it, my smile falling into a pout when I saw the plastic ring inside; a yellow star.

“I don’t like yellow.” I pouted up at him and he just smiled at me, taking a seat beside me, and taking the ring from the box.

“You remind me of the colour yellow. So happy and always bringing me light. And you’re the star in my life.” I looked to the ring in between his thumb and pointer finger and in that moment I never saw a prettier piece of jewelry. “Let’s get married when we get older.” I met my best friend’s eyes. We’re only ten, not sure what love is, but I want him in my life forever.

“Okay.” He slid the ring on my finger the way we’ve seen in movies.

I opened the same small box from my memories, the ring that no longer fits sitting in the box just as beautiful as that day. “Y/N, are you ready to go?” I turned towards my bedroom door to see my mom standing there with a small smile on her face. I nodded, closing the box, and putting it back in the drawer it always sits in before making my way towards her. She placed her aging hands on my cheeks before kissing my forehead. “Happy birthday, sweet pea.”

“All the tests look great. I think we’re in the clear for now.” My mom and I exchanged excited looks as the doctor relayed my latest test results. Tears welled up in my mom’s eyes and she took my hand with a smile.

“Does that mean I can go back to Korea?” I asked hopefully, wanting to return to my hometown and find the boy from my only lasting memory.

“I don’t see why not. You will have to continue with check ups there, but I think we’ve done all we could here for you.” I squeezed my mom’s hand in excitement, ready to get my life back after all these years.

It was only a week later that we were packed and ready to go home. I took one last walk around the house we called home for the last 15 years. “Let’s go or we’ll miss our flight.” We grabbed the last of our bags and slid into the cab that was waiting for us. I’m not sure how I’ll find that little boy who is surely a man now, but I’m making it my mission to find him; my childhood best friend.

3 Months Later

Days went by faster than I was used to. I had a part time job I worked at when I wasn’t in class. Mom told me to take it easy as it hasn’t been that long since my last surgery, but I felt on top of the world being around people my age again. “Hi, Kookie!” I greeted as I walked into the coffee shop for my shift. He waved excitedly as I headed to the back. “Busy day?” I asked when I came up front and took my usual spot at the register.

“Not really, but it’s bound to pick up now.” The two of us made small talk and jokes in between customers. Jungkook was the first friend I made when I returned to Korea. He helps made the lonely days a little less lonely. I’ve had zero progress finding my childhood best friend, even with all the information my mom could give me. I had hoped being back would help jog some memories, but the doctors did warn me that it was possible the memories may never return.

The bell chiming above the door signalling a new customer has arrived pulled me from my thoughts as I greeted him with a smile. When he smiled back I felt my heart pick up pace. Jungkook chuckled as I stumbled over taking his order. “I took matters into my own hands, since you’ve always been a chicken shit.” He whispered into my ear, though he never explained just what he meant.

I found out later that night when I had a new text from an unknown number claiming to be the cute boy from the coffee shop. I smiled and shook my head as I texted him back, apologizing for my co-worker and friend.

No need to apologize. I’m glad he gave me your number. I stared down at his text, my smile growing wider at the implication that he wanted my number.

Me too.

We spent the rest of the night talking when I really should have been studying for my upcoming exam. But getting to know the cute boy, Park Jimin, seemed a lot more important than my grades.

The days passed as I continued to text Jimin and get to know him. We started hanging out whenever we both had free time and I found myself growing fond of his company. I had the same feeling in my heart as I did on my tenth birthday. It made me wonder if fate had done my work for me and brought him back to me. “This is going to sound insane.” I told him as we walked along the beach while the sun set on the horizon. I explained my memory loss. I told him about my only childhood memory; my tenth birthday. About the promise with my best friend.

“Oh my god, you’re that Y/N?” He exclaimed, something clicking in his mind as he gave me a once over, his eyes studying every part of my body. And then he threw his arms around me. “I thought I’d never see you again.” It was all I needed to hear to confirm my suspicions. I allowed my heart to be given to him as he pressed his lips to mine for the first time.

A month after we officially started dating, he asked if I wanted to go to a movie with him and his best friend, telling me to bring Jungkook as well as he wanted to officially meet him and thank him for getting us together. Jungkook and I met Jimin and his best friend at the theatre. Jungkook was staring at his phone as I looked around for my boyfriend, smiling when I saw him walking my way. “Hey.” I smiled as he leaned down and gave me a quick kiss.

“I’m Kim Taehyung.” His friend greeted, holding his hand out for me to shake. I slid my hand into his as I introduced myself. Jungkook did the same, and the 4 of us went to get our tickets and snacks. Jungkook and Taehyung immediately hit it off, laughing about who knows what, while Jimin wrapped his arm around me, saying he missed me.

After the movie, we hit the arcade and Taehyung and I bonded as Jimin and Jungkook got super competitive with each other. “I learned to never play against Jungkook the hard way.” I joked, remembering the day he was teaching me to play some of his favourite video games.

“I learned that about Jimin too.” Taehyung laughed. We were just aimlessly walking around the arcade when my eyes stopped on one of those machines you put a coin in and get a plastic ball with a small prize inside. My eyes scanned the different prizes, smiling when I saw it had plastic rings; one that had a yellow star. “I remember loving these when I was a kid.” Taehyung laughed, scratching the back of his neck as if he was nervous. “I actually got my first crush a ring from one of these.” I looked up at him with a smile.

“Jimin got me one for my birthday when we were ten. I actually still have it. He told me we should get married when we’re older.” I looked across the arcade to see Jimin and Jungkook walking over to us. “I didn’t think it would happen, but I’m starting to really fall for him.” I could see Taehyung’s face fall as I spoke. I turned away from him, pretending I couldn’t feel the new tension in the air and wrapped my arms around Jimin’s torso.

After that day, the 4 of us became almost inseparable, spending all our free time together and making new memories I would be sure to remember for a lifetime. Though, Taehyung seemed to avoid me as much as possible. I tried not to let it bother me and just continue on happily.

It wasn’t until my birthday that things seemed to change. Jimin said he worked that afternoon but would pick me up that evening for a romantic birthday dinner. Jungkook came over to help me waste time until then. I had just finished getting ready when the doorbell went off. Thinking it was Jimin, I rushed to answer, my smile faltering when I saw Taehyung on the other side. “I need to talk to you.” He spit out in a rush, grabbing my wrist and pulling me into my own house. We sat beside each other on the couch, but he got up and started pacing as he tried to get his words together. “Jimin isn’t the one who got you that ring for your birthday.”

“What do you mean?” I asked as confusion took over my features.

“It was me.” He stopped pacing and just stared at me as he said that. “A plastic ring with a yellow star. I told you it was because you remind me of the colour yellow, that you are my star. I lied. I tried to get you the one with the pink heart, but I ran out of change. I practiced that lie the entire walk to your house.” I stood from my seat on the couch.

“Jimin has no reason to lie to me, Tae. Can you please leave? He’ll be here soon.” He opened his mouth to say something else, but I just walked away from him, not wanting to hear another word. I sat on my bed, thinking over everything Taehyung told me in my living room. Jimin wouldn’t have lied to me all those months ago, would he? Why would he lie? The doorbell ringing once again pulled me from my thoughts, and Jimin was on the other side this time.

“Happy birthday, angel.” He leaned in and gave me a quick kiss, and I let Taehyung’s words go. Or at least I tried to. They distracted me all through dinner before I just couldn’t take it anymore. I set my cutlery down, causing Jimin to look up from his plate.

“What did the plastic ring look like?” I asked, needing to know. Say yellow star. Please just say yellow star. I pleaded in my mind.

“It was pink, because that’s your favourite colour.” He smiled before setting his own cutlery down. “Why are you asking, love?”

“Why did you lie to me, Jimin?” I stared at the man in front of me, unsure if I really knew him. He blinked a few times before sitting back in his chair and looking out the window we were sat next to.

“I just, you seemed so happy when you thought you found him in me, and I didn’t want to let that go.” I scoffed, sitting back in my own seat, thinking back to the words I practically spat at Taehyung earlier in the night. “I just wanted you to like me.” He leaned forward, trying to take my hand in his, but I pulled it back.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t like you just because you weren’t my childhood best friend?” He sat there, seemingly unable to answer. “I liked you long before I thought you were him, Jimin. And I would have liked you still if you just told me.”

“I’m sorry.” I shook my head, standing up from the table and grabbing my purse. “Don’t go. Let’s work this out.”

“I can’t stand liars, Jimin.” Was all I said before walking out, calling Jungkook to pick me up. “Do you know where Tae lives?” I asked as I got into his car, not bothering to explain.

“I’ll take you there.” Was all he said, knowing I’d tell him everything tomorrow. I was on a mission and I needed to talk to Taehyung.

“What are you doing here?” Taehyung asked as he opened the door.

“Why now? Why hide this from me when you knew?” He stood there, confusion turning into realization as he stepped aside and let me in. If this was a different scenario, I would have taken the time to look around, take in the way he lives. I would take in his décor and the random, half finished paintings strewn about, abandoned for another.

“You seemed so happy with Jimin, but I just couldn’t hold it in anymore. I wanted you to know the truth.” I nodded.

“So you’re my childhood best friend.” I said out loud, to no one in particular. I turned around to finally take in the apartment he lives in. “I wish I could tell if you had changed or not, but I don’t really remember who you were.” He chuckled and took my side, gesturing for me to take a seat. He disappeared into another room for only a minute before emerging with a photo album.

“Here.” He handed it towards me as he took a seat beside me. I slowly opened it to be met with two smiling babies. “Our dad’s were best friends growing up. Their wish was for us to become just as close.” He explained, pointing to another picture where our parents stood around laughing. “Our mom’s used to joke that our dad’s would leave them for each other if they could.” I chuckled as tears welled up in my eyes.

“My mom never talks about my dad, or your parents. What happened?” Taehyung told me about the accident. How our dad’s were going on their annual bro trip and got hit by a drunk driver. How our mom’s stopped talking after that, really only being friends because their husbands were close.

“But we stayed close.” He told me. “We went to the same school and were always together.” I smiled as he flipped the page, pointing to a picture of us in our uniforms, smiling widely at the camera.

“You told me that you got the plastic ring for your first crush.” I pointed out and watched as his cheeks went pink and he smiled shyly.

“You were always beautiful to me.” He shrugged. “And you always knew how to make me laugh. Even after the accident when I thought I’d never be happy, you stuck around and did everything you could to see me smile every day.” I playfully shoved him with my shoulder.

“I’m glad I was that for you.” He pointed at some other pictures, explaining backstories, and telling me all about our childhood together.

“And then you were gone.” He ended, closing the album, and setting it on the table. I took his hand in mine, causing him to look at me.

“I got into an accident, Tae. After waking up from the initial surgery, I was told they needed to do tests as they believed they found a tumour in my brain. My mom moved us to America after finding a world-renowned doctor who could save my life. I had many surgeries, that’s why I can’t remember my childhood with you. But I held on to that ring and the memory of my tenth birthday, promising myself I’d come back to you one day. I’m sorry it took so long.” He just stared into my eyes before bringing a hand up to my face, cupping it gently before closing the space between us; kissing me softly.

#was it you?#bts #bts imagine #kim taehyung #kim taehyung imagine #jeon jungkook #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #park jimin

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artificialqueens · 4 years

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who we are and who we are not [trixya] - pinkgrapefruit

There’s a hint of an ocean hidden in the back of Katya’s eyes and Trixie is so sure she’s seen it before.

It begins in Australia. (It begins in an idyllic neighbourhood both above and below and to the left of Trixie’s office.) She agrees to help this confused blonde with a rats’ nest of hair in a messy bun and the bags under her eyes that carry more secrets than Gretchen’s hair, and she cannot decide why. There is something uniquely compelling behind the river of her eyes, and Trixie just wants to spend the upcoming weekend sunbathing on its banks, drinking margarita slushies, and reading poetry.

[the good place au]

A/N - you should never have let me express my love of other fandoms because this au has been in the works for months and after the harry potter au response you’re all insane to think I’m not posting this. thank you to jazz and frey for being fantastic cheerleaders and grammar checkers and i really hope you like it because I do. i’m not at all sorry and you don’t really need knowledge of the good place to read this

There’s a hint of an ocean hidden in the back of Katya’s eyes and Trixie is so sure she’s seen it before.

It begins that first day, in her office.

It ends there too in due course, and then starts there again, so much harder and more painful than before because she thought she was finally over it, and because Katya.

There’s more to it than that, though. So much more.

So she agrees to help. And it starts off with just them, in Trixie’s office, when she’s pretending to be marking grad student essays praising Kant for ideas that Hume created, but instead, trying to figure out why a woman who decided she needed help, needed her. Katya says she watched her lectures ( What we owe to each other ), and when Trixie looks, really looks into her eyes, she sees hope and fear and something so deep she needs a ladder on hand before she goes any closer - and she swears she’s seen that look before -

They’re in the kitchen sat on the bench which should not be comfortable, save for the way Katya shoved all of their throws down the back of it to pad it out. They’re in the kitchen, looking at the television playing a VCR of them - in a bed.

Katya on the tape was smiling. She looked happy and in love. ‘I did that,’ Trixie thinks. ‘I made her look like that.’ And she feels a warmth pulsate behind her left ribcage.

“So, yeah, I guess… do you… I don’t know. Do you have any feeling like that for me… again… now?” She asks.

And then Trixie blinks and she is a stranger again.

It begins with the stark feeling that maybe this is the most important moment of her life.

Katya bullies her into asking Bob out. She’s smart, Trixie will give her that. She knows just how to trap her.

(It’s almost as if they’ve known each other for years.)

The dinner could have gone better. It’s stilted - awkward. The back and forth feels wrong and Bob - while she’s wonderful - she feels; odd. She takes too long to order and Bob snatches the menu out of her hands, and that’s how she ends up eating goats cheese. She’s a little bit allergic, but she really likes Bob. She’ll figure the rest out later.

The vase is the same blue as Katya’s eyes.

It’s a few weeks later and Katya has graduated from sitting in the back of class, bullying Australian undergrads for their pronunciation of Kant to making actual progress. Tangible progress that looks like tipping servers and clearing the lecture hall. And she’s talking about one student - a quiet one with good ideas and strong morals, Jasmine - maybe and -

“We’ll get some information, Hey Jan!” She calls, and this Trixie is sure of herself when she speaks, spoon full of froyo balanced on the edge of her cup.

A blonde comes out of nowhere. She’s dressed like a seventies air hostess, and even though she’s not breathing, she looks so human Trixie swears there’s a ghost of a rise in her chest.

That Katya jumps with a gasp. “Who the fork are you?” she asks like she needs to know.

“This is Jan - she’s like a database for all knowledge. You can ask her anything you want.”

“Hi,” Jan says. It’s robotic, but not inhuman, and the juxtaposition is unnerving.

“Jan… Was Violet in love with me in fifth grade?” Katya winks.

“Yasmine,” Trixie corrects breathlessly. “You could learn something from her - she’s good.”

“Yeah, but then why would I need you?” Katya jumps off the desk she’s been sat on and pads out of the hall, her flannel slung around her waist. Trixie pushes the glasses up her nose and leans her head on the cool wall for a moment. She needs a moment.

Katya wins eighteen thousand dollars. Monét starts dating the black sheep of West Industries. Vanessa goes to yoga for five minutes before she realises it’s not what she signed up for, but she stays for the hot ex-ballerina instructor because watching her do some of the poses means she doesn’t have to do them herself. Trixie sees the librarian and a blonde woman popping champagne and whispering in the abandoned journalism department. She leaves them to it. Life is good.

(It’s not though.)

(If there is a hell, this is it.)

Being like Katya is like teetering on the very edge of a cliff. She’s fighting not to fall forwards into the ocean blue of her eyes, but she can’t bear to fall back onto solid, safe earth either. She learns to be content with the rough-edged, precarious thing that isn’t quite love, but at the same time isn’t not, that she knows cannot last.

Eventually, she is going to fall one way or another. She will lose her either way.

She shouldn’t be thinking about her.

(She never stops)

She’s with Bob. She loves Bob. Probably-

“It’s not that I don’t love you,” she says, and Katya’s face falls and there’s a sharp ache in her chest. “I could, logistically. You’re funny, and intelligent and your face is… symmetrical.”

(Wow.)

(Symmetrical)

(They’re going to the bad place and she calls her symmetrical.)

(And she cannot save Katya, but she wants to.)

Nine months in and Bob tells her she loves her, and Trixie’s response could make E.E. Cummings cry.

“Oh, why?”

And she tells Katya the next day, who punches her arm relentlessly for fifteen minutes, all while berating her using language that would also make Cummings cry if he heard them. Katya wants her to love Bob. She doesn’t dream of the two of them walking around a lake in an idyllic neighbourhood - wrapped in blankets that smell of hope and happiness.

That’s fine. Because neither does Trixie.

“You make my head feel like a fork in the garbage disposal.”

She has to do it. She has to fall backwards onto the safe earth that feels like lecture hall carpet and smells like Bob’s perfume. But she can’t.

Not when every stolen moment feels so right. Not when Katya’s eyes knit together to form a patchwork blanket of hope and promise and intricacies Trixie wouldn’t be able to unravel with forever on the line. Not when Katya fit so perfectly in her arms - and Trixie doesn’t believe in soulmates-

“Hi, I’m Trixie Mattel, I’m your soulmate.” She waves, a little stilted, but the grin on her face that worms it’s way up to her eyes quicker than she thought possible discounts any fear she may have. And Jan stands there looking happy for them.

“Bring it in man.” Katya hugs her, and her flannels smell like hiking in summer sun and the feeling of dew between your toes.

(“We will find each other and we will help each other because we are soulmates”)-

Trixie cannot believe in soulmates.

(It would be dangerous, and she’s trying to avoid dangerous.)

It’s an awful idea.

Really terrible.

“You are very lucky I can’t send you to the Bad Idea place, because that one is a stanker.”

It’s a double date.

She’s not quite sure how that became a thing, and she’s not quite sure how it differs from the Brainy Bunch before they became the Brainy Bunch, before Monét and Vanessa, and then Brooke and Nina.

When it was just her and Katya, and she thought it was going to stay that way forever.

Bob picks the restaurant. She finds one of her friends who is free on Friday night as a date for Katya, who is almost as symmetrical as Katya (according to Bob, who may have used the word ‘handsome’, but it just doesn’t do her justice, does it? Like she’s some sort of ornamental flower pot, because have you ever seen a non-symmetrical flower pot. Don’t answer that, because Vanessa made Nina a very lopsided pink one for her birthday, that she uses to house Katya’s peace lily that she donated so it could actually survive - but that’s not the main focus right now). But apparently the man won’t get drunk and cause a riot like Katya might, which is fine. Trixie thinks Bob might have superpowers. It’s going to be fine.

She is totally fine that Katya is going on a date with a symmetrical man.

It’s fine -

“ You guys gotta scram, my soulmate has something planned for me.”

Her soulmate is Simon and he gets Katya all the time - not a precious few hours a week. He likes jazz operas and cowboy hats, and Trixie thinks he’s a poor fit for her, but she seems happy.

He has everything Trixie wants and sometimes it seems like he doesn’t even want it.

It goes south before they step foot in the restaurant.

She’s sure Bob’s friend is lovely, but he starts to talk about how he’s on this new diet where you can eat anything that’s seafood except shrimp, because shrimp is awful, and Trixie places a hand on Katya’s arm before she can leap to shrimps defence as Bob changes the subject onto something that will end with less bloodshed.

It doesn’t improve inside.

Katya, in the seat next to her, starts making an underhanded commentary about the couple across the walkway, and Trixie tries to tell her to stop, but they end up giggling like children until Bob’s foot is firmly imprinted on Trixie’s shin. Her friend looks at them like they’re insane. Maybe they are.

The waiter comes out with a cheese platter. “Hey, um, Brain,” says Katya, squinting at his ‘HI, I’M BRIAN’ name tag. Trixie’s proud of her trying, she supposes. “D’you think we could have crackers instead? Or, like, cake? Something without goat’s cheese?”

“How did you know?’ she asks her after the waiter has finished his spiel on why cake isn’t an appropriate appetizer and left (with a huffy “and it’s Brian!”) to take the orders of the couple to their right. Trixie wishes him luck, and he’s going to need it, because the couple have now progressed to full-on making out over the table, completely ignoring the waiter. Katya keeps looking over at them. There’s an odd expression on her face. In the dim light of the restaurant, she looks especially symmetrical. She can’t tear her eyes away from her, and as a result, nearly stabs herself in the nose with her fork, and – why exactly is Bob interested in her again?

(She doesn’t want to know.)

(She sort of wants to know why Katya isn’t.)

“Know what?” Katya’s voice sounds strained.

“That I can’t eat goat cheese.”

She turns away from the couple and looks at her dead-on, face crumpling into a bewildered grimace, and she feels like the air has been sucked out of his lungs. “What are you talking about, weirdo? You told me.”

She didn’t. She knows she didn’t, because most of the time he’s spent with her has been with Bob, too, and she’s been careful not to tell Bob about the goat cheese because nearly a year later it’s actually a good memory. The awkward parts have faded away. She doesn’t want to ruin it. Everything is good.

She tells her as much.

“No – dude – you were… wait… no, you’re right. Huh. Who was I thinking of?”

(Somebody else.)

(Which is really, truly fine.)

(Really.)

Unfortunately, the man on their right chooses that exact moment to say to his girlfriend “…The spaces between you and me resonate in my heart.” Katya spits out a mouthful of wine, and they’re kicked out of the restaurant by Brain – er, Brian – who must really be having a terrible night.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

They’re on the couch again. The one that looks too uncomfortable to be comfortable, but she’s never seen herself look so comfortable.

“Believe it, baby,” Katya smiles, “I’m all yours. Well, at least until something better comes along - for me. You’ve pretty much topped out.” The twinkle in Katya’s eye reminds Trixie she is lying. That Katya is hers. She shakes their intertwined fingers and relishes in the fact they do not fall apart.

Bob offers to drive her home, but she’s also taking her friend and Trixie’s had just about all the self-help book quotes she can take. She didn’t think she needed help to be fair. And she’s been on edge ever since he offered her dieting tips she really didn’t want.

They drive off and Katya walks over to her. Trixie doesn’t see her, but there’s that feeling; key in a lock, last answer to the Sunday crossword, book on a rainy morning - a sense of rightness.

(She clings to it more than she can admit.)

She turns to look at her.

“Well, I didn’t kill him, so I think I’d call it a win,” she quips, adjusting the way her white shirt shows the edge of her red lace bra. She’s a little drunk and it’s possible she’s being mean. But there was also the diet tip, so Trixie’s willing to compromise.

She rifles around in her purse. “Hold that,” she says, and Trixie finds her hands full of gum wrappers, loose change, a single cracker and, somehow, another bottle of wine. “How—” she starts, but Katya cuts her off.

“You really don’t want to know.”

She should chastise her. Make her give it back along with any semblance of dignity she stole from the waiter, but Trixie’s not exactly sober either, and the wine is good. Brian wouldn’t let them back in, anyway.

“Fork,” Katya curses under her breath because she’s trying not to swear as part of her good person promise to herself and - by extension - Trixie.

“What?” Trixie asks, still holding all of Katya’s rubbish.

“Taxi money.”

“What about it?”

“I don’t have any.”

“Oh.”

Trixie looks around at the orange glow of the streetlamps and the still-warm sun setting in the distance.

“Aren’t we, like, two blocks from your motel?” She asks, because she knows they are, and Katya scrunches her face up because she doesn’t.

“I took a taxi here,” she admits. “And I’m not really sure how to get home.”

She’s not sure if it’s the wine or Katya’s presence, or that she just got kicked out of an establishment for the first time in her life, or something else entirely, but there’s a laugh bubbling up inside her chest and then she’s laughing too, and soon they’re both doubled over in hysterics on the footpath.

It doesn’t bypass Trixie that that’s the first time Katya has called Australia home.

( “I’m going to miss this stupid clown house.”)

(“It’s where we fell in love.”)

They stumble along the warm concrete of the pavement, nearly falling over thanks to the wine and the fact they fall back into laughter every couple of steps. “I feel the absence of you reverberate in my heart,” says Katya. Trixie laughs so hard she nearly falls into the path of an oncoming car.

She just has to stop Katya from doing the kind of thing she usually does when she’s drunk: sleeping with strangers and shoplifting. Occasionally throwing things. Once she cried into her shirt for an hour because she had a photo of her grandpa on her wall.

The motel has just come into view when it starts to rain. Katya grabs her hand and pulls her towards the flickering neon VACANCIES sign. She steps in a puddle, and then they’re off again, staggering along the side of the road howling with laughter. They reach the door out of breath and soaking wet.

The receptionist gives them a strange look as they walk past.

She asks her if she wants to stay.

Of course, I’ll stay , she wants to tell her. I’d stay forever, if you wanted.

But she doesn’t, and Trixie doesn’t, and she can’t. So they watch a movie, and she leans her head on Trixie’s shoulder, and she falls asleep to the sound of rain lashing the windows and the smell of Katya’s shampoo.

She’s fallen.

Not the good kind. The safe kind. She knows it as soon as she wakes up fully clothed, watching the way the sun skips on the freckles along Katya’s nose. The ocean is warmer than she thought it would be, and she’s grateful that the tide seems kind. She has never looked more symmetrical.

(She does not feel kind.)

(She feels like a monster.)

It ends after the liquidation of the Brainy Bunch. After Max and Jan and the Peep Chilli disaster of ‘19.

It ends in the dean’s office where she gets her heart crushed and her career brought to a sudden, shuddering halt.

She looks at Katya and all she sees are dreams that are being slowly rebuilt into paper boats that hold the weight of worlds. She wishes she could be more like her.

(Wishes don’t come true.)

“I need to end things with Bob.”

Maybe wishes don’t come true. She’ll never get to have Katya for herself, she knows that, she’s made peace with it. Well, no, she hasn’t, but she’s accepted it. She can never, ever tell Katya how she feels, or kiss her, or hold her in her arms at night, but she can stay by her side, make sure she’s happy and safe for always, and that just might be enough.

It’s the easiest choice she’s ever made.

“Okay -

“…but too bad, because I need to say it, because you deserve it. Because… because…” because I love you. Because I can’t lose you. Because it’s you, and you told me you loved me and I was scared you were going to take it all back, but that doesn’t matter, you matter -

They kiss.

And it ends.

And it begins.

And everything is fine.

And everything is great.

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mcleaha · 4 years

Text

hello lovelies ! i’m bøffy , i’m 20 years old , prefer she/her pronouns , and currently reside in the pst timezone ! uhh . . . i am posting this intro at nearly 5 AM my time , and i would be almost willing to bet it’s littered with errors and it’s . . . probably a bit all – over – the – place since this is very much a new muse ! however , with that being said , if you give this a like , i will definitely contact you via tumblr ims or d!scord ( 𝓲𝓷𝓱𝓪𝓵𝓪 / 𝓮𝔁𝓱𝓪𝓵𝓪#1384 ) to plot !

[ jasmine brown . 21 . cis female . she/her ] just saw MALEAH AMICK dragging their suitcase up the steps to CABIN 1B . good luck living with HER , i hear that that they’re INDECISIVE , FORGETFUL , SOCIABLE & CREATIVE . Apparently they’re the ATTACKING MIDFIELDER . let’s hope the upcoming season doesn’t affect their JUNIOR year of ART EDUCATION .

STATS:

name: maleah amick .

nickname(s): leah .

age: twenty one .

gender identity: cis female .

pronouns: she/her .

sexual orientation: bisexual / biromantic .

birthday: 26 february 1999 .

zodiac sign: pisces .

myer-briggs: esfj .

pinterest: coming soon !

HISTORY:

born on the 26th of february 1999 in orlando , florida , maleah was the youngest of the three amick siblings . her mother worked as a prestigious board – certified pediatric surgeon at a local children’s hospital , and her father worked as a high school mathematics teacher and volunteered as the school’s unpaid soccer coach , a move that saved the program from ending due to budget cuts ( he claims he was roped into the position as a first – year teacher with no seniority , but while he’s reluctant to admit it , he eventually grew a passion for the sport he had previously known little about ) .

with her mother’s long shifts and emergency work – related calls , she ultimately became closer to her father and two older brothers while growing up . most knew her father as a man who towered over them at 6’7” , ordering his team to run laps or practice drills ; however , maleah knew him as the man who would crawl around the living room floor playing barbies with her or would prepare fruit and herbal teas as she twirled around dressed as a princess , declaring it time for a royal tea party . just as easily , she could be found exploring the great outdoors or playing whatever sport was currently in season alongside her brothers .

she practically followed in her brothers’ footsteps . as they approached high school , each brother chose one sport to specialize in , hoping to secure a position on a college team and eventually on a professional team . maleah did not have professional athletic goals , but although she had immaculate grades with limited effort put towards academics , she knew extra – curricular activities were important for college applications . thus , when it was maleah’s turn to choose which sport to pursue , rather than having to weigh the pros and cons and make her own decision ( or perhaps , fearing that she would make the wrong decision ) , she simply chose the sport that her brothers had previously chosen : soccer .

her high school coach knew the perfect position for maleah . years of informal practice with her brothers in the backyard had enhanced her skills . she had learned how to evade skilled high school defenses by pretending as if she was heading in one direction before bolting in the other . soccer was one of the few areas in life in which she possessed enough knowledge to make quick and effective decisions ; she could read the field and immediately determine the best course of action : dribble , pass , or shoot . ultimately , she possessed the vision and the creativity necessary to secure playmaking and goal-scoring opportunities for her team .

with a line of college scholarships , both academic and athletic , waiting for the attacking midfielder’s choice ( unfortunately , none from either of the schools her brothers played for ) , the time came for maleah to make a decision . as deadlines for summer practices , class registration , and tuition payments crept closer , she finally determined a means of deciding . she numbered her offer letters , 1 through 13 , and allowed a random number generator to make the decision for her . thus , mere chance ( or perhaps fate ) led maleah to hollis university .

her first semester at hollis was . . . rough , to put it lightly . while most freshman shed a few tears as they watched their parents’ car drive off into the distance , homesickness lingered in maleah’s life . coasting through high school with limited effort had done her zero favors ; with no effective study skills , her grades dropped dramatically . between soccer and trying to salvage her grade point average , a social life was virtually out of question . ultimately , she found herself on academic probation , unable to play soccer , for her second semester of freshman year at hollis .

luckily , she was able to develop effective study habits , and even discovered along the way that maybe pre – med was not the best major for her . when asked what she wanted to do , maleah gave an entire list of generic answers – “i want to help people” and “i want to make a difference” came up quite often , but nothing specific enough to point her in the right direction . thus , she changed her major almost every semester , desperately seeking for the right fit . in the meantime , though it took several letters petitioning her temporary removal from the team , she was able to resume playing soccer during her sophomore year .

as junior year approached , maleah was almost certain that she was back in her coach’s good graces – no longer viewed with a sense of skepticism . she had proven herself capable , finding her name on the dean’s list nearly every semester and assisting her team in numerous wins throughout the soccer season . however , with hollis’ soccer teams’ restructuring , maleah can’t help but question if her coach views her as a valued athlete or a liability .

PERSONALITY:

two words : social butterfly . almost to a fault . even if someone has expressed quite literally zero interest in talking to her / getting to know her , she will still make an attempt . kind of a . . . people – pleaser , in a sense , she just wants to be well – liked ?

avoids ! conflict ! at ! all ! costs ! generally just . . . tries to avoid people or situations that upset her . not very prone to like . . . yelling or crying , but those close to her can definitely sense a change in her demeanor when she’s upset ? just . . . a lot more tense , probably lots of eye – rolling and just . . . subtle , quiet signs that she is over whatever the problem is .

kinda . . . chill , mellow , easygoing ? she very much lives in the moment , and tries not to stress too much about the future . always down for a drink , a party , whatever – genuinely just around for some fun and some friends !!!

the kind of person who genuinely gets excited over like those fun facts and jokes that are on popsicle sticks and whatnot – absolutely must share the information with everyone within earshot . honestly , those jokes are very . . . on point with her own personal sense of humor jflakdsj .

HEADCANONS:

she suffers from a terrible case of youngest child syndrome . ultimately , without guidance , she’s terribly irresponsible . she’s always having to run extra laps because she sets her alarm too late to make it to morning practices on time . she’s always receiving overdraft fees for spending more money than is available in her checking account . forgets everything – from homework assignments to names to grabbing her keys before locking the door on her way out . just . . . imagine a child asking for an adult’s help and her looking around until she comes to the realization that “ oh , shit , i am an adult ” .

she’s practically always doodling – in the corners of notebooks , on napkins while eating lunch , on her clothing , on her own skin . she loves making art , particularly drawing or painting portraits or nature . ( ultimately , she only decided to incorporate this into her choice of major after hollis threatened to not allow any further changes to her major ) .

she has a . . . unique sense of style . she has a passion for thrifting and upcycling . practically lives in hoodies and t – shirts that she has purchased from secondhand stores and cropped herself . always adding cool iron-on patches to her clothing . she should be listed as your emergency contact if you’re prone to ripping your clothing because she can definitely fix it .

she probably thinks she’s good at trash-talking on the field , but she actually sounds like a second grader ( and that’s being kind ) . if you looked at her browser history , there’s probably at least one record of her actually googling “ best soccer trash talk ” .

CONNECTIONS:

friends !! friends she’s met through courses throughout her adventures of attempting every major possible , mayhaps soccer friendships that continue off the field , mayhaps that complicated emerging new friendship state for some who are new to hollis ! unlikely friends ! best friends !!! quite literally those unbreakable ride – or – die friendships !

muses !! i feel like every artist needs that little dose of inspiration , even if it’s simply the inspiration of a work – in – progress portrait throughout the duration of camp ! complaints of “ stop moving ! ” and her stopping every ten minutes to ask what they think and probably at some point , her flinging a brush dripping of paint in their direction (if things didn’t end in an all – out paint fight djlfakds ) .

enemies !! honestly i’m sure there is ?? so much ?? potential for this , bt . . . mayhaps someone’s just . . . fed up w her irresponsibility ? thinks she doesn’t take her soccer position seriously ? maybe someone doesn’t think she takes anything seriously ( they wouldn’t be . . . wrong tbh ) . maybe someone from cali takes that “ california vs florida ” feud a little too seriously jflskdja . idk there’s always bound to be personality clashes !

exes !! relationships that ended badly , so she actively tries to avoid them and who even knows what happens when she’s forced to acknowledge their existence at some point at this camp !!! maybe relationships that ended on mutual terms so they’re still p chill with each other ?? maybe ended relationships that never quite got closure so there’s still unresolved feelings !!

hook-ups !! they are . . . college students . they are . . . college students stuck at a camp all summer . idk i feel like this one is pretty self – explanatory jflakds .

honestly i am tired & want to sleep , bt genuinely i am up for & open to anything ! good influences , bad influences , unrequited crushes , requited crushes , idk the world is y(our) oyster !! these are . . . rlly just some ideas to get the whole process started bc i am actually terrible at . . . thinking of plot ideas on the spot . always open to jst . . . doing a thread and seeing how things naturally flow too !

#hollis.intro #i . . . don't know what most of this is #it is jst #almost 5 am now actually i need sleep #also too lazy to log on to my other account to access my other gifs so :) this is what we have to work with for the time being jflaksdj

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jkarma · 4 years

Text

First = Last

Once there was a boy named Jeff, he was a smart kid who was really into learning and is fascinated by both the genres of math and science. In his elementary life, he was not a bad student, usually in the top 10 of the class if not in the top 5. But there was a slight problem. He wasn’t having the best time since he was always being bullied verbally. This never got into him much and he thought that elementary was going to be the hardest thing ever, but this all changed when high school came along.

6-8-2016

On the first day of class, Jeff felt excited because he knew that elementary was over and this is going to be a new step in life. And so it is. It’s like he was in a new school or something, and everything seemed new. Half of his classmates were either from the other sections or were from other schools, his teachers were all new and even the lessons are new! So the day went on, the English class was over and the Chinese class was coming. He wasn’t really a big fan of Chinese since he isn’t as good at it compared to English, but nonetheless he usually still gets to the top 10 of the class which is decent for him. But the one thing that really changed his life forever was the moment when he met a girl in Chinese class. He thought it was cool at first but eventually learned how “infatuation” works. Her name was Melanie. He found out that two to three other boys liked her too but this wasn’t a big issue for him at that point since he thought that education was still more important than “infatuation”. A few months passed by, and he’s starting to like this girl even more! But they don’t talk much because they have totally different lives and he couldn’t tell anyone about it since he was scared and because his best friend likes her too. So he kept it for himself. But not until it came to a point where he told Melanie exactly what he felt about her and nothing much really changed after that. He tried to talk to her a little more and even wrote letters to her, but then again, “We’re still too young, and education must be focused first.” He said. So he started to forget about her and focused on his studies like before.

3-10-2017

The 4th grading periodical examination is just around the corner and one evening, Jeff was studying Filipino. One of his hatest subjects. “Why don’t I check my Facebook for a moment, I’m sure it's not gonna take long,” he said. While scrolling on Facebook, Jeff saw a girl named Sarah who has more than 100 mutual friends. He then asked one of his friends about who this girl was, and his friend said that Sarah is one of their batchmates and had just transferred to their school this year. I sent her a friend request in the hopes of meeting a new friend, and with no surprise, she accepted it. They started talking in messenger and slowly became friends. Summer went on and they talked all day every day and they started to know way more about each other and started to become close friends.

4-15-2017

It’s the middle of summer and things started to become boring. Fortunately for Jeff, Sarah was there to keep him company. Day and night they would chat and on this exact day, Jeff fell for her. But again, he was too shy to tell anybody so he initially kept it for himself. They kept talking and even became best friends at one point even though they have not met each other in person yet. Could this be it?

6-10-2017

School is just 3 days away and Jeff is excited to meet his new teachers and maybe even new classmates and friends, but one thing he really was up about was to finally talk and meet Sarah for the first time. He even asked Sarah if they could like to talk sometime or hangout or something. I mean, he does like Sarah so why not become close to her personally? So he kept on encouraging himself to not miss out on this opportunity but...

6-13-2017

It’s the first day of class. Oh man was he excited for this day. “Time to be who I really am!” said Jeff. The first few subjects were great for Jeff, lunch was coming and he wanted to somehow talk and meet Sarah in person but it came to a point where he was too shy to even approach her. So this rendezvous of theirs didn’t push through and remained like that until around the third grading. But this didn’t affect him as much because school was still pretty busy. So when he started to gain some confidence, he asked Sarah if they could meet up somewhere and he thought that the library was the best place since they both liked books, and so they did meet the following day. It was kind of awkward as expected but it wasn’t the end of the world for Jeff, in fact, it was just the beginning.

12-10-2017

At this point, Jeff and Sarah were best friends but still don't really talk much in person. And a great opportunity was up ahead! It’s gonna be Christmas soon and of course, there was an upcoming Christmas party in school. Jeff wanted to give something to Sarah as an appreciation gift for always being there for him. He asked her what gift she would want, and she obviously denied that she wanted something and said that anything would be fine. At first, Jeff had no idea what to give to Sarah. He asked for help from friends and all, but he had no luck. After a few days, he thought of something that she might like and use, a watch.

12-15-2017

The Christmas party went on, and Jeff had so much fun. Afterward, Sarah and her friends went out to hang out with one another. Jeff thought of this as another opportunity to get closer to Sarah in person, and so he went with them. Jeff’s best friend was also there so it wasn’t really a problem for Jeff to fit in. They went to a mall and did all these crazy things such as karaoke singing in Timezone. Before the day ended, Jeff noticed that Sarah wasn’t going with the others and instead will be going home with her family, Jeff then took that opportunity to at least try to get a picture with Sarah whilst it’s still possible. So they did take a picture and Jeff was as happy as he can be, but he almost forgot one thing.

1-4-2018

Christmas break was done and a lot of things happened the past 2 weeks. Well, in messenger, Jeff and Sarah still talked pretty much every day and all that stuff but they were starting to lose touch. “But why tho?”, asked Jeff and he did some investigation. After a while, he found out about this dude named Charles who likes Sarah too! Charles and Jeff were decent friends because they went to the same tutor the year before. “What a coincidence?” said Jeff. So he decided to give this Charles a chance to prove himself to Sarah because she promised Jeff that she would never like Charles back and that they would not end up being together. Days passed by and both of them became closer and closer, which scared Jeff a little bit. He had very supportive friends who stood by his side when he needed it, and this helped him a lot especially when he feels like a loser because of what is happening around him.

1-15-18

It’s Sarah’s birthday, and Jeff wouldn’t want to miss the chance of proving to her that he cares about her. He not only planned to make her a video, and give her a gift, but he also planned on giving her letters from the entire batch. As he was about to give the gift to Sarah, something tragic happened. He lost the P1,000 gift card from H&M that he was supposed to give Sarah, and it was nowhere to be found. He explained everything to Sarah and she said that it was okay.

1-31-18

At this point, Jeff and Sarah were still friends. But one day, Charles had authority over Sarah’s Facebook account and used it to keep her away from Jeff. How? By blocking Jeff in her account. Pretty smart, but it definitely was not good news for Jeff. Even though he knew that Sarah would never want him to be her boyfriend, he still wanted her to be his friend, his best friend. Because of this, he was devastated. But after a while, he thought that maybe she might still unblock him sooner or later. Day after day, week after week, month after month, and still nothing. He started to forget about her because of this, and so blocking Jeff from her life might not actually be that bad after all.

5-14-18

Remember Melanie? Well, she was one of the main people who helped Jeff forget about Sarah and move on. Even though she knew that he once liked him, he still treated him as one of her best friends. At this point, Jeff has fully moved on from Sarah and just went on with life, but there was something missing. Jeff and Melanie continued to talk in messenger and got closer and closer. Eventually, he thought “This was the girl whom I liked before, why don’t I pursue this and maybe, just maybe, even get her heart?” He then thought “But Melanie isn’t allowed to have a boyfriend yet. Oh gosh, what am I thinking?! This will just hurt me, and I’ll be the one who’s going to be disappointed again.” He then stopped thinking about this and focused on his studies once again.

3-8-22

It’s their Senior High School graduation and all the effort that he had done all paid off. Jeff was the valedictorian of their batch and received numerous medals and awards all throughout. “If there was one award that I had missed, it would definitely be the award for love. But I guess it’s one of the reasons why I’m here right now so I might as well miss it and try again next time. This is just the first few steps in life, and there’s a lot more to go.” He said. After graduation, he approached Melanie and said something to her. This is how their conversation went.

Jeff: “Hey, Melanie. I can’t believe it’s graduation already ahhhhh!”

Melanie: “Yep, haha. Time really passes by so quickly.”

Jeff: “What are your plans after this graduation?”

Melanie: “Hmm, I dunno... Probably go to college? Hahaha.”

Jeff: “True. Haha. Remember the time when you said that because of a promise, you weren’t allowed to have a boyfriend until you graduate Senior High School?”

Melanie: “Yeah why?”

Jeff: “Well uhm, since we have already graduated, would you like to go out with me?”

Melanie: “Wait, what?”

Jeff: “Yeah ‘cause why not? Haha. You’re a very special girl and I just want you to be the girl whom I spend the rest of my life with.”

Melanie: “Thanks, but I don’t know.”

Jeff: “Come on Mel, we have known each other for probably 6 plus years now, haha, and I wouldn’t want to miss this chance because I don’t know if I’ll have the chance to ever meet you again. I like you.”

Melanie: “Uhm... I’m sorry Jeff, but I don’t think this is going to work out because I don’t really want to mess with your already “great” life. I’m just an ordinary girl, and I believe you deserve someone better than me. I’m not saying no but I’m doing this for you.”

Jeff: “Mel, don’t say that. You’re a wonderful and amazing girl. I don’t care what others think about you. All I know is that I like you because you’re you and nothing can change that.”

Jeff hugged Melanie for the first time and Melanie quietly said: “You’re the coolest person I’ve ever met and I would be more than willing to be with you.”

- Conrad

#ShortStory #First=Last

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footballerindreams · 4 years

Text

Something Happened

Hi! I would like to wish my Deobi friends, especially @straykidsftw (yes, she's a part Deobi), FELIX NAVIDAD!!! 😁😁😁. Anyway, this is one of my works on AO3 that I wanted to post here as a Christmas gift for Deobis. I hope you enjoy! Especially you @straykidsftw !

And HAPPY BIRTHDAY ERIC SOHN!!!

-------------------

"Hello. Eric?" Sangyeon answered his phone. He always pauses in whatever he is doing everytime his members will call, but most especially if it is Eric.

"Hi. Hyung. It's Felix." The caller replied.

"Oh hey Felix. Did Eric left his phone again? Aish that kid."

"Uhm. No, hyung. Actually, I need you to come here at school." Felix was uneasy on the other side. "Something happened to Eric."

---

It has been a tough few weeks for Eric. The Boyz are preparing for their comeback and everyone is busy. Dance practices, song recordings, photoshoots, you name it. And to make it more busier...

"Okay class, exams will be next two weeks. Please study hard and good luck." The teacher said as she dismisses the class for the day.

Eventhough Eric is an idol, still he is a student and him and his hyungs are always reminded by their higher ups in their agency that no matter what, education comes first and that they have to maintain as well their grades and good image in school.

"Hey Eric, your comeback will be after the exams, right?" Felix, one of the members of Stray Kids and by fate, Eric's classmate and bestfriend, asked him.

"Yeah. What about it?" Eric asked.

"How is it?"

"Very busy. Actually after this I have to go directly to the studio and practice."

"How about the exams?"

"Don't worry. I still have time to study after practice."

"Are you sure. Seems like you really had a lot in your hands right now."

"Don't worry. I can manage." Eric smiled at his bestfriend.

---

And so it has been Eric's routine to go to school then go directly to the studio after classes and prepare for their comeback, most of the time it's until midnight. Then he goes home with his hyungs to their dorms and stays up to three A.M. to study.

One night, New woke up and noticed that the study lamp is on and Eric is reading and writing something.

"You're still up? It's past three in the morning and you still have class."

"Don't worry, hyung. I'll just finish this and then sleep." The maknae replied a bit groggily.

"Okay. You better sleep immediately. It's not good to stay very late." New reminded then went back to sleep.

"Okay." And Eric went focusing again on his studies and stayed awake for another hour.

---

"Eric, wake up. You have classes, right?" Juyeon nudges the sleeping maknae causing for it to stir.

"Eric, it's almost 8 am. You'll be late for school." Juyeon added.

Suddenly Eric rose up and jumped away from his bed to the cabinet to get his uniform and dress up. It only took him 5 mins to prepare and not even bothering to wash his face and brush his teeth; unusual for a boy whose neat as he is. He rushes out going to the door when Sangyeon called his attention.

"Eric, eat before you leave."

"Sorry, hyung but I cannot be late for today. There is an important test that I have to take." Eric says and went out of his dorm.

---

His routine was starting to get worse. The Boyz went home by midnight and the maknae stays later than usual, studying for the exams. He was also starting to skip meals because he is being woken up multiple times being almost late. And during his recess and lunch break, he sleeps rather than eat a meal. Adding up the tight daily schedules for their comeback, Eric never had a decent meal.

"Eric! You're sloppy!" Q shouted as he noticed the maknae huffing for air and being slow in the choreography of their dance practice.

After the dance, Q approached Eric.

"What's the matter with you, Eric? You're messing up the d--- are you alright?" Q stopped scolding as he noticed that his dongsaeng does not look good. "You look pale and there are bags in your eyes. Have you had enough sleep lately?" Q asked in concern.

"I'm...fine...hyung..." Eric replied in between his huffs of catching air. "It's just...it's just...things...are...very...busy...at school...lately."

"Aish. This kid." Q sighed and pat his shoulder gently. "All right. Guys! This is a wrap for today! We've got to go home and rest. It's been a long day, especially for Eric." Q announced making everybody start to pack up their things.

"Hyung, we still...have...2 hours...left for...practice." Eric complained.

"No. We're done for today. Everybody is good. And besides, you need to take a rest. Now pack up. We're going home."

---

"You're still awake?" Haknyeon asked. The Jeju boy woke up feeling a bit thirsty. As he approaches the kitchen, he saw Eric on the dinning table, writing something on a piece of paper and was surrounded by books. He is sniffing.

"Oh. Hey hyung. I'm about to finish. Don't worry." Eric assured.

"Eversince we went home you've been there. It's already three in the morning. You should sleep. We still have classes too in the morning."

"I'll just finish this then I'll sleep." Eric said with a sniff in the end.

Haknyeon let him be and went back to his room. He knows Eric is hard to persuade, especially when the boy is focused on his work. But little did he know that Eric went to sleep an hour and a half later.

Eric woke up holding his head. It felt heavy but he did not mind it and went to prepare himself for school. As the usual, he was running late and skipped breakfast again.

Luckily, Sunwoo and Hwall are also runninh late and the three of then went to school together. While on the ride, the two noticed that the maknae was coughing and more sleepy than usual.

"Are you alright?" Sunwoo asked Eric.

"Yeah." Eric said then coughs a little. "It's just dry cough." Then Eric leaned on the window frame of the car they are riding and supported his head with his arm.

"You look sleepy." Hwall noticed.

"Because I just woke up." The maknae justified.

Sunwoo opened his bag and pulled out a pack of juice and gave it to Eric.

"Here drink this now. So that you have energy at least until break time." Sunwoo encouraged.

"Thanks, hyung." Eric thanked and got the pack, opened it and drank the contents.

It sustained Eric on his classes but only until recess break where he slept again rather than ate. So by the afternoon, he felt much worse.

Eric is on his way to his second class in the afternoon He was walking more slowly looking for something to hold on as he approached the stairs. He was coughing more frequently and he could feel his head pounding in pain. He whined.

"Eric! Wait for me." Felix shouted approaching the boy.

Eric faced his best friend wincing and trying hard to focus looking. "Oh hey...Felix."

"Wait, Eric. Are you okay? You look sick." Felix said worrily.

"No. I'm fine." Eric tried to convince his idol best friend only to end up coughing.

"No you're not. Come on, I'll bring you to the infirmary." Felix encouraged.

"No. I have...to go...to..." And Eric saw every blurry at first then it went blank.

Felix was alarmed when he saw his friend fainting. Good thing he was able to catch Eric before he fell on the stairs. The Stray Kids member shouted for help. Good thing there were school council students passing by and he helped him bring Eric to the infirmary.

---

The doctor told Felix that Eric had a fever and was then asked by the latter of the activities he knew about his friend. From what he knew is that Eric and his members had an upcoming comeback and at the same time with upcoming exams. The doctor slightly concluded that his friend was probably stressed and overfatigued from all of his activities. The doctor prescribed some medicineand advices and left him to tend for his sick bestfriend who is lying on the infirmary bed. Breathing a bit hard and with a towel on his forehead.

Then he remembered that Eric's members haven't knew of his situation yet so he decided to tell them. And since he does not have the numbers he tried to look for the maknae's phone on his belongings without stirring him up. He found it on the boy's school jacket and tried to open it. Luckily he knew the password and was able to open it but he was surprised then laughed when he saw the wallpaper of his idol best friend cuddling with a certain handsome member; a story he will leave for next time.

He looked on the contacts and found what he was looking for.

Calling 상연 형...

---

"Hello. Eric?" Sangyeon answered his phone. He always pauses in whatever he is doing everytime his members will call, but most especially of it is Eric.

"Hi. Hyung. It's Felix." The caller replied.

"Oh hey Felix. Did Eric left his phone again? Aish that kid."

"Uhm. No, hyung. Actually, I need you to come here at school." Felix was uneasy on the other side. "Something happened to Eric."

Alarmed, Sangyeon stood up from his spot on the studio. "What?! What happened?!"

"He was not feeling well. And he fainted and almost fell on the stairs. Good thing I was with him."

"Where are you right now?" The leader asked as he fumbles and rushed to put his things on his bag.

"At the school infirmary hyung. Eric is asleep right now but he's a having a fever."

"Oh shoot. We're on our way. Can you stay with him for a little bit?" Sangyeon asked.

"No problem, hyung. I already told our teacher and he said it's okay to be with Eric for a while."

"Thanks. Don't worry. We'll be fast."

---

Sangyeon came 30 minutes later with half of the members of the group. They almost broke the door of the infirmary as they were rushing to see what happened to their beloved youngest. Sangyeon was about to shout when he saw Eric sleeping on the bed, still with a towel on his forehead and being covered with blankets. Felix was on the side seated on the chair while reading a book.

Sangyeon was about to ask when Juyeon crossed him and went to the bedside. Seated, he touched Eric's skin. Noticed that it is hot, he removed the towel from his forehead, dipped it in the nearby basin and put it back.

"Did he wake up?" Sangyeon asked.

"Not yet, hyung."

"Oh dear." Jacob sighed.

"I should've known that he is sick already. He was having a hard time catching up during practice." Q regretted as he remembered the face of the boy during that time.

"I noticed him still awake in the early mornings, studying. I don't know why. I did not bother much but I reminded him to sleep." New said.

"That's why he wokes up late lately." Juyeon said.

"And skips breakfast." Younghoon added.

They were cut off from their conversation when the three older maknaes came in.

"We just knew from Eric's teacher what happened. Is he okay?" Sunwoo said worrily.

"We don't know. Have you noticed anything unusual on Eric?" Sangyeon asked.

"He spends most of his time sleeping during eating breaks. We don't even know why." Hwall answered.

"Felix, can you tell us anything? We don't understand how this happened. He does not say anything to us." Kevin pleaded the Australian.

"Well, actually..." Felix started.

---

Eric woke up whining in pain, which made the rest of the boys stir up and notice.

"Eric. How do you feel right now?"

Juyeon asked.

"Where...where am I?" The youngest asked.

"You're at the infirmary. You are sick. You fainted. Good thing Felix was with you."

Eric finally noticed that he IS in the infirmary. And that all of his hyungs are with him right now and he is being surrounded. He had mixed emotions of worry and comfort that his hyungs know and are around but was covered by a pounding headache.

"Why haven't you told us that you have an important exam coming. We could've cut you some slack for you to be prepared." Sangyeon said.

"I don't want to bother you hyungs. We've been preparing for this for months and I don't want to spoil that just because I have exams. And besides I was doing okay with the time."

"Doing okay? We have heard you were sleeping in the early hours of the morning. Not to mention a very short and deprived sleep. Then you skip your meals! That's okay?! What if no one was there to catch you on the stairs when you fainted? You could've gotten an injury aside from being sick!" Juyeon reprimanded.

"Hey. Hey. Don't be so hard on him." Jacob patted the worried member's shoulder.

There was silence for a while and the tension went a bit high.

Eric lowered his head and sniff at first, then whimpered, then cried softly.

"I'm sorry. I just...I just don't want to be a burden to you guys...Now?...Now I became one..."

Sangyeon closed his distance to the boy and hugged him. "Hey. Don't say that. It's not your fault. You were just doing what you think was right. You are not a burden to any of us."

"You know Eric, we have the same situation as you." Hwall started. "Being an idol and student is hard but it will be easier since we are a team. Don't hesitate to tell us anything. We will gladly help."

"Hwall is right. We are here for you if you need help. Especially about school." Sunwoo added and assured. Putting a hand on the youngest's shoulder.

"Can we stop the drama for now and go home? I want to take care of our baby boy might as well do it there." Hyunjae sassily complained. The others looked at each other and laughed then agreed.

Eric is so lucky to have hyungs like them.

#eric sohn #son youngjae #sangyeon #juyeon #hyunjae #haknyeon #sunwoo #hwall #kevin moon #jacob bae #q #ji changmin #new #choi chanhee #kim younghoon #the boyz #lee felix #더보이즈

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echodrops · 4 years

Text

The Promises I Made (2019 Edition)

For the past thirteen years, I’ve spent every New Year’s Eve compiling a list of fifty promises I intend to keep or fulfill over the next twelve months. The results have been truly amazing, and I have kept some promises I never thought I could. 2019 was… a nightmare that I can barely believe I survived, but I still kept some promises that I honestly did not expect I ever could.

This year, for New Year’s, there will be a new set of promises for to me keep, but here are the old ones, for review!

The Promises I Made (2019 Edition)

1) Be more proactive about tracking and following up with struggling students to decrease the number of students who drop from my class when they realize they cannot pass. Status: Somewhat broken? I tried really hard to be proactive with my students; however, there were some massive issues outside the classroom this year that made it extremely difficult to keep the focus on the students. When administration drags your attention away from the class, there is not a lot you can do…

2) Find a place to put in volunteer hours because uhhhh like this is actually important to my work evaluation and I definitely need something to write in that section… Yikes, this spring is my last chance to do this!! @_@ Status: Kept. I volunteered with the Utah Shakespeare Festival and it was super fun!

3) Install the fire escape window in the Utah house, no matter how much it might cost, because I can’t get a totally unrelated tenant in that basement without said window… Status: Somewhat kept. Okay. This one is a LONG story, but to be fair to me, I worked my ASS off to try and make this happen; just every single thing in the world prevented me from completing this promise, up to and including the city telling me I needed a permit AFTER I had already dug a massive hole in the ground for the window…

4) Buy sod to add grass to the front portion of the lawn so that it no longer looks like garbage. Status: Broken, but I did buy grass seed and put that out there. Unfortunately only some of it sprouted, but there is indeed SOME grass now growing there…

5) Fix the bricks near the windowsills on the Utah house to prevent long-term damage. Status: Broken. After dealing with the stupid window disaster, I had no time for this at all.

6) Get a watering system for my roses at the Utah house because I think my bro is probably killing them and that’s just not cool. Status: Broken, see above.

7) Work on the patio at the Utah house before it just flat out falls down. Status: Somewhat broken. Again, I tried to make progress on this—I called a patio guy to come out and assess how much it would cost to fix the patio—but the price I was quoted was so high that there was nothing I could do at the time.

8) Paint the stairwell so that there’s no chance of anything like lead paint or asbestos being exposed. Status: Broken. The leftover wallpaper glue continues to confound me…

9) Trim the backyard bushes so the neighbors don’t hate us anymore… Status: Broken. We trimmed a few bushes and at least got to the trees out front, but definitely a majority were left uncared for.

10) Move into a new house in Texas where I can get real internet, please for the love of god… Status: Kept. I moved into a very nice house with no scorpions!

11) Save money for my upcoming trip to Japan! 2020 baby! Status: Uhhh, broken. I’m not sure how I thought I’d be able to move into a new house AND save money for an international trip at the same time…

12) Get my wisdom tooth removed because it’s still there and still killing me, yikessss. Status: Broken. AUGH. I’m an idiot.

13) Make an appointment with an eye doctor for like the first time in years. Good job, Yehn, good job. Status: Kept. I got my glasses fixed and even got a new pair of glasses too!

14) Get my prescriptions refilled because I’m dwindling on asthma medicine and like… I could die from this… I should never have been left to care for myself; I’m not mature enough for this responsibility… Status: Kept, surprisingly. But I still need a new doctor because the last one I was going to wouldn’t give me any refills…

15) FINISH THE GIVEAWAY PRIZES I PROMISED LAST YEAR because holy shit I am incompetent and the worst and everyone has permission to hate me for starting things and never finishing them, fuck. Status: Broken. So broken. I am the worst.

16) Go dolphin watching in the Gulf for real this time. Seriously, it’s $10 Yehn, you can do this. Status: Kept, amazingly. It wasn’t as impressed as hoped; however, there was a lovely sunset.

17) Return to the Channel Islands to take better pictures. D; Status: Broken. T_T

18) Level all my classes to 70 in FFXIV before next expansion, please. Status: Somewhat broken. I didn’t have everything to 70 before the expansion, but I kind of feel like I should get credit for this one, because HEY, look at me now:

19) Organize and properly label all the photos on my computer so that I’m no longer desperately combing through folder and folder in blank confusion, looking for a single picture in a sea of thousands… Status: Kept. It took me like eight hours of work, but I actually did this.

20) Update Home and a Half more than once? PLEASE??? The guilt I feel over this currently is crushing. Status: Broken. And the guilt grows…

21) Complete the online American Literature class I am designing on time and with no corrections needed. Status: Kept. I’m counting this as kept even though TECHNICALLY there was one thing I forgot to finish and it came back and bit me in the ass; however, I was approved with no corrections needed.

22) Earn 100% completion for Kingdom Hearts III. So excited! Status: Broken. Um… This just didn’t happen.

23) Update my calendar with important dates—holidays, birthdays, etc.—and be productive about sending cards and well-wishes. Status: Somewhat kept. I wasn’t any better about sending cards really, but I did at least save all the birthdays in my phone so I remember them.

24) Get the garbage disposal in the Texas house fixed ASAP so I don’t have to wash the dishes by hand anymore because I absolutely hate that particular chore. Status: Kept. Then I moved, so it didn’t even matter.

25) Finish all the books my coworkers and friends bought for me recently so I can thank them for their recommendations! Status: Broken. So broken.

26) Actually move into my new place instead of leaving it completely undecorated and lifeless. Status: Remarkably, kept. Nothing has plastic on it, unlike at my old house where the nightstand didn’t get unwrapped even after two years of living there lol.

27) Try hard to get Creative Writing into a different area of the general ed. core so that more people will enroll in it. Status: Kept. I’m counting this because I did my darn best, but we are still waiting on the state to tell us whether or not the class will be accepted.

28) Get caught up on my Ebird reports, even the old, old, old ones I never put in because I was slacking. Status: Kept, actually. Whoo.

29) Throw away/return/sort all the stacks of old mail in the house (OMGGGG they’ve made me look like paper hoarder and I’m nootttt). Status: Broken. There’s just… a lot of papers to go through…

30) Clean up the garage before moving so that I don’t have to fight spiders to move when the time comes. Status: Broken, in that I did not clean up the garage in advance and did, in fact, have to fight spiders when it came time to move.

31) Find a way to boost grading productivity so that each class takes only two days to grade, maximum. Status: Somewhat kept. I was definitely better this year than last year; however, I really think the “two days per class” thing was too optimistic, so for the future semester, I allotted myself three days per class and I think it will work better.

32) Go to a totally new restaurant and try their food. Status: Kept. We went to a Mexican restaurant and I had trompo tacos (al pastor) which is probably not anything special to anyone else but it was my first time so lol.

33) Cancel old credit cards to make sure my credit is good before trying to buy a house (although I just checked my credit score and I’m in the great range already, so this is mostly for posterity’s sake). Status: Broken. But it didn’t affect my loan, so I guess it was okay. And it ended up being good I didn’t cancel my Best Buy card because I was able to get good financing on the new appliances I needed for my house.

34) Get official contracts from my tenants so I can use my rental income in my next loan calculation. Status: Broken, but I ended up not using that as part of the loan calculation anyway >_> so…

35) Talk to an HR rep about my retirement savings so that I can consolidate all my retirement accounts into one. (Man, look at all these ADULTING promises.) Status: Broken. Look at me failing all these adulting promises.

36) Really finish decorating my office so it looks super cute and all my students want to visit me. Status: Broken, but I think it sucks that I have to write this because it was really not my fault I couldn’t finish decorating my office. Our offices were all moved and disrupted by building remodels so I spent the entire year basically working out of a couple cardboard boxes.

37) Not sign up for ANY more new responsibilities at work in the spring semester. This is the biggest challenge. D; Status: Kept, by technicality. I was able to avoid signing up for anything new in SPRING… But fall… was a whole other story. XD

38) Migrate all the rest of my books to the new Texas house instead of leaving them in Utah… SOMEHOW. Status: Kept. I’m going to count this as kept. The only books left at the Utah house are my manga—I managed to bring literally every other book, which is very impressive considering I had only my small Camaro with its tiny truck space.

39) Use my twitter account more often to make it worth following. I will try!! Status: Kept… sorta? I mean, since I didn’t use the account AT ALL before, making even one Twitter post kind of counts as using it more, right? >_>

40) Keep my hair cut nicely so I look less like a mess (than I really am). Status: Somewhat broken. Although I think I got my hair cut more often this year than before, I don’t think I looked any less like a mess. XD

41) Successfully find a bridesmaid dress for my friend’s wedding that matches the rest of the wedding party. Status: Actually kept! It was incredible. The wedding I was in was even featured in a magazine because of how pretty it was!

42) Make sure my skin is in good condition for the wedding so I don’t look like a disturbing ghost… Status: Kept? I mean, in the end, looking like a ghost ended up being the whole point since it was a Halloween themed wedding so I kind of won either way.

43) Complete my BNHA manga collection. Since my bro bought me a bunch of the volumes for Christmas, I might as well. Status: Broken… I bought like… one volume. XD

44) See a groove-billed ani. (It’s another type of bird.) Status: Broken. Very illusive bird. T_T

45) Respond to messages, asks, and comments more quickly. I promise I’m not ignoring people… D; Status: Um, broken. I left many people on read this year, sorry.

46) Lose ten pounds so that I feel more fit and comfy. Status: Broken. I didn’t exercise at all this year, uff.

47) Pay down credit card debt by at least 1/3. Yikesssss, I really need to do this quick. Status: Broken. It’s hard to pay down a credit card when you pour all your money into buying a new house…

48) I will finally fucking finish that chapter 73 analysis of Noragami… I swear to god… Status: Broken. Uh yeah. This didn’t happen. V_V

49) Reach 1700 followers on Tumblr. You should follow me—I’m only marginally a waste of time and space! Status: Kept. Over 2500 followers now!

50) I will keep these promises. LOLLLLL. Status: Somewhat kept/somewhat broken. One year I really will keep them all…

Totals Kept promises: 18 Broken promises: 24 Somewhat kept/broken promises: 8

Well, there are more kept promises than last year at least… It was another really hard year, what with moving in the middle of the year, over-working, dealing with so much drama with the reaccreditation on our campus, and just EVERYTHING all at once this last year… I keep thinking things are going to calm down and then they never do. Please 2020… just let me rest…

My new set of promises will be up on the 1st!

#50 promises #new year's resolutions #IRL stuff #please 2020 #I need a break #it's not the roaring 20s #it's the snoring 20s #PLEASE

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rafaelina-casillas · 6 years

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Flower Asks

@december-girl06 Thank you so much for asking me! *sending a bear hug*

Alisons: Sexuality? - Heterosexual.

Amaranth: Pronouns/Gender? - Sher/Her. Female

Amaryllis: Birthday? - 29th august

Anemone: Favorite flower? - Cala lily and white rose.

Angelonia: Favorite t.v. show? - BBC Sherlock, Hawaii Five-0, MacGyver, Hannibal

Arum-Lily: What’s the farthest you’d go for a stranger? - I don’t trust people so pointing the right direction 😁

Aster: What’s one of your favorite quotes?

Aubrieta: Favorite drink? - Coke, sparkling water.

Baby’s Breath: Would you kiss the last person you kissed again? - Umm, I’ve probably kissed Mom so yes.

Balsam Fir: Have you ever been in love? - I had crushes but nothing more than that.

Baneberries: Favorite song? - The Point of No Return from The Phantom of The Opera

Basket of Gold: Describe your family. - Pretty ordinary with the occasional dosage of drama.

Beebalm: Do you have a best friend? Who is it? - That’s classified.

Begonia: Favorite color? - Black.

Bellflower: Favorite animal? - Wolves.

Bergenia: Are you a morning or night person? - Definetly a morning person.

Black-Eyed Susan: If you could be any animal for a day, what would it be? - A raven so I would what flying feels like.

Bloodroots: When you were a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up? - (That’s embarrasing) Michael Schumacher or Batman or an astronaut.

Bluemink: What are your thoughts on children? - Little monsters, I don’t like them.

Blazing Stars: What are you afraid of? Is there a reason why? - I’m afraid of snakes. Just look at them! Do I need a reason?

Borage: Give a random fact about your childhood. - I made plans with best friend to run away from my parents. He was suppossed to get a job as a cooker. And, yes, we were 10 years old then.

Bugleherb: How would you spend your last day on Earth? - Reading, I guess.

Buttercup: Relationship Status? - Forever single.

Camelia: If you could visit anywhere, where would you want to go? - Hogwarts or the set of Hawaii Five-0

Candytufts: When do you feel most loved? - When people show me that they trust me.

Canna: Do you have any tattoos? - No, I don’t like tattoos.

Canterbury Bells: Do you have any piercings? - No, I don’t like piercing either.

California Poppy: Height? - 158 cm or 5′2

Cardinal Flower: Do you believe in ghosts? - That’s complicated. Let’s say I can’t simply ignore all the stories about people seeing ghosts.

Carnation: What are you currently wearing? - My home clothes: a track suit.

Catnip: Have you ever slept with a nightlight? - I can’t remember for sure but I don’t think I have.

Chives: Who was the last person you hugged? - Mom.

Chrysanthemum: Who’s the last person you kissed? - Mom.

Cock’s Comb: Favorite font? - All the academia made me like Times New Roman. I also like Gothic fonts.

Columbine: Are you tired? - Yes.

Common Boneset: What are you looking forward to? - The next semester.

Coneflower: Dream job? - University professor, editor and writer.

Crane’s-Bill: Introvert or extrovert? - MAJOR introvert.

Crocus: Have you ever been in love? - Nope.

Crown Imperial: What’s the farthest you would go for someone you care about? - Protecting them at all costs.

Cyclamen: Did you have a favorite stuffed animal as a child? What was it? - I still have that animal! A small pink monkey, I love it too much.

Daffodil: What’s your zodiac sign? - Virgo.

Dahlia: Have you done anything worth remembering? - I don’t think I’ve done something that special.

Daisy: What do you feel is your greatest accomplishment? - Getting a place in a PhD programme.

Daylily: What would you do if your parents didn’t like your partner(s)? - I’ll answer this when (if) I have a partner because I honestly don’t know how to answer this.

Dendrobium: Who is the last person that you said “I love you” to? - Don’t know.

False Goat’s Beard: What is something you are good at? - Trapping over my own feet 😁😄

Foxgloves: What’s something you’re bad at? - Singing, drawing.

Freesia: What are three good things that have happened in the past month? - Getting the news about my lecturing, seeing Venom and Bohemian Rhapsody, starting learning basic linguistics.

Garden Cosmos: How was your day today? - It’s 11 in the morning!

Gardenia: Are you happy with where you’re at in your life? - Not so much.

Gladiolus: What is something you hope to do in the next year or two? - Writing the first two chapters of my PhD thesis and feeling more confident in academia.

Glory-of-the-Snow: What are ten things that make you happy/you’re grateful to have in your life? - Mom Friends My supervisor Books Movies TV Shows The pigeons on my balcony Music ... I can’t think of more

Heliotropium: What helps you calm down when you feel stressed? - Reading.

Hellebore: How do you show affection? - I’m very clumsy at this. Taking extra care. Telling stupid jokes.

Hoary Stock: What are you proudest of? - Winning my supervisor’s trust.

Hollyhock: Describe your ideal day. - Meeting with friends, going to the cinema, reading.

Hyacinth: What do you like to do in your free time? - Reading or watching a movie/a TV show.

Hydrangea: How long have you known your best friend? How did you meet them? - I met her 15 years ago when she was transfered to my class in 5th grade.

Irises: Who can you talk to about (almost) everything? - Mom and my friends.

Laceleaf: How many friends do you have? - Few but I love them very much.

Lantanas: What’s the best compliment you’ve ever received? - That people liked my writing.

Larkspur: What do you think of yourself? - *censoring self hate* Not much actually. I know I could do better.

Lavender: What’s your favorite thing about yourself? - My kindness and intelligence (if such a thing exists).

Leather Flower: What’s your least favorite thing about yourself? - My looks.

Lilac: What’s something you liked to do as a child? - Colouring books!

Lily: Who was your best friend when you were a kid? - A boy with whom I’m still friends though we are not that close.

Lily of the Incas: What is something you still feel guilty for? - That I never got the courage to talk to my biggest crush at high school.

Lily of the Nile: What is something you feel guilty for that you shouldn’t feel guilty about? - Being rude to toxic friends.

Lupine: What does your name mean? Why is that your name? - It comes from the word for flower in Bulgarian. I was named after one of my grandmothers.

Marigold: Where did you grow up? Tell us about it. - I grow up in the same city I’m still living - Sofia.

Morning Glory: What was your bedroom like growing up? - Full with stuffed toys.

Mugworts: What was it like for you as a teenager? Did you enjoy your teenage years? - Not at all. I don’t like my teenage self, I cared too much about people’s opinion.

Norwegian Angelica: Tell us about your mom. - She’s the greatest person inhabiting this world, my best friend. I love her sooo much!

Onions: Tell about your dad. - A normal person.

Orchid: Tell about your grandparents. - I only know one of my grandmothers, unfortunately. But she was great when I was a kid, now she’s too old to have normal relationship with her.

Pansy: What was your most memorable birthday? What made it be so memorable? - Going to the cinema with all my school friends on my 15th birthday. Before the group feel apart.

Peony: What was your first job? - I was an intern at the Ministry Of Foreign Affairs

Petunia: If you’re in a relationship, how did you meet your partner(s)? If you’re not in a relationship, how did you meet your crush/how do you hope to meet your future partner(s), if you want any? - I want to meet him suddenly, just starting to talk about different things.

Pincushion: How do you deal with pain? - I try to distract my mind.

Pink: Where is home? - Where the heart is.

Plantain Lilies: If you could go back in time, what is one thing you would stop/change? - World War II

Prairie Gentian: Who is someone you look up to? Describe them. - Scientists like Alan Turing, Albert Einstein. Shakesperare, too.

Primrose: Describe your ideal life. - Having a stable partner whom I love and who loves me and who doesn’t want children. Being a professor with major works in her field who travels the world to read lectures.

Rhodendron: What is something you used to believe in as a child? - The kindness of people.

Ricinus: Who’s the most important in your life? - Mom.

Rose: What’s your favorite sound? - The atmosphere of a library. Quietude with the occassional hushed talks.

Rosemallows: What’s your favorite memory? - Every time when I’m with my best friend.

Sage: What’s your least favorite memory? - Visiting the Museum of Natural History and and all the snakes surrounding me.

Snapdragon: At this moment, what do you want? - To finish my PhD successfully

St. John’s Wort: Is it easy or difficult for you to express how you feel about things? - Rather difficult.

Sunflower: What is something you don’t want to imagine life without? - My favourite people.

Sweet Pea: How much sleep did you get last night? - 7 or 8 hours.

Tickseed: What’s your main reason to get up every morning? - Achieving my goals.

Touch-Me-Not: How do you feel about your current job? - I don’t have a job.

Transvaal Daisy: What’s your favorite item of clothing? - T-shirts.

Tropical White Morning Glory: Describe your aesthetic. - Books, autumn, quietude, stationary, dim light.

Tulip: What would be the best present to get you? - A rare book.

Vervain: What’s stressing you out most right now? - The upcoming conference at which I had to make a presentation about a report I’ve written.

Wisteria: How many books have you read in the past few months? What were they called? - Too many, I can’t count them. But there are two kinds: 1) Literature that I enjoy and read for pleasure (I’ve read mostly Joanne Harris books during this time); 2) Literature for my thesis which includes many books on psychoanlysis, feminist thought and linguistics.

Wolf’s Bane: Where do you want to be in life this time next year? - Having a job and a confident lecturer.

Yarrow: Do you know what vore is? - No, I don’t.

Zinnia: Give a random fact about yourself. - I hate to be the center of attention.

#me #persona #answered

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toddlazarski · 3 years

Text

Last Suppers Vol. 4

Shepherd Express

“And I try to wash my hands,

and I try to make amends,

and I try to count my friends...”

— Neil Young

I never realized how much white existed on a kitchen wall calendar until we flipped to last month. May 2020: like an endless sea of milk, spilt, all over ripening spring and coming summer and everything between now and the distant horizons sprawling in every direction. The Target-bought spiral-bound hope of organization and forward-thinking adulting now somehow resembles a hanging talisman of the old joke about how to make God laugh: “make a plan.” There it sits, sometimes taking on the sense of a mirror, the unsmudged kind, too well-lit, the Windex-ed type necessitating looking away, the seeking of distraction. And there it remains, post-dentist visit luminous, crisp, unfettered, yawning, as we’ve quieted the ceaseless streaking of Sharpie, the scribbling and jotting and plotting, the road signs of an appropriately lived, full life, like all of us were looking up at the professor, scrunching brows, nodding knowingly, doodling something in the margins to play at attention and appropriate labor. Something to look forward to is the key to happiness, an old adage of sorts, is a wise thing a smiling, knitting grandma would say from a rocking chair, indicating you should get moving, with the plan-cementing and the aspirations of nights out and days together. For now though it is but a march of indistinguishable blocks of vivid pale, a tiny number in the upper left corner of each that means approximately nothing.

March 11th was a date, in hindsight, that stands out. A memorial-type night where, within the half hour it took to put a toddler to bed, the country froze and sought in vain for the Ctrl+Alt+Del keys on a foreign keyboard. The NBA season was suspended. Rudy Gobert was positive. Tom Hanks had it. An impossibly incongruous confluence: Forrest Gump and a tall French shot-blocker I target in every fantasy basketball draft existing together as the collective harbinger of societal doom. It felt like being in a movie, or the first episode of Leftovers, but the part that would pass as an emotional montage, and then move on. March 13th—Friday the 13th, but not soundtracked or jump-scaring, quiet, and directed by a Fincher or Polanski or Lars Von Trier—was where an unspoken contract was entered by sentient and capable-of-critical thought Americans, a day where laying low, taking it easy, became a gesture of care, an act of society. June 13th is a wedding we’ll attend this year. An idea, an event to schedule a haircut close to, a thing to cause ponder on the state of my black suit, something to look forward to that will have too many long-unseen friends and reunion fueled by an open bar. It was a wedding we would attend this year. It’s been moved to the fall. July 20th was once a road trip start date, years ago, the commitment steer-branded on my mind, I remember, because people would ask: “what are you doing this summer?” “When are you leaving?” “When will you be in New Orleans?” Everything else of the fruitful season seemed mere preamble, fun-enough filler before an apex, day-after-day of appetizer or salad, a mere whetting of appetite. A big day was coming, anticipation followed me like cartoon character stink lines. July 4th was a date I saw Tom Petty at Summerfest; June 28th was a date I saw Tom Petty at Summerfest; June 30th was a date I saw Tom Petty at Summerfest. These were constellations, a solid reading of the charts, the blipping beacon the control tower sends up when it is stormy and time to turn off autopilot. Now our plain is mostly like the map you see where dragons are fire-breathing around the edges. I remember the dates, like jersey numbers of favorite players, of all the Fridays in whichever is the upcoming month: aims of nocturnal revelry to make all the Tuesdays and Wednesdays and nothing days pay. This year, so far, May 26th meant something, for a while, and April 24th before that. The end, the other end, of Safer at Home. Instead the political panoply that is supposed to represent us sat at home and decided we don’t need that guidance, or a plan. Public safety is less important than dollars. Our Supreme Court sided with all those guys outside all the Capitol buildings with guns.

So maybe it’s time to get back to this, with the togetherness, the glasses clinking, hugs and unprotected mouth-open laughs at sunny beer gardens, the days you circle on the calendar and hope will have no rain, all the times where there is no greater mark of the specialness of a day than the meal. Like when my mom took me to Max & Erma’s for my 8th grade graduation. I don’t recall where the rest of the family was, but I definitely remember the tortilla soup. I’m not sure where my parents took me after high school graduation, but I remember knee-bobbing antsiness, the polite nods at congratulatory mentions of the future, because I was distracted by the prospect of going to go get very, very drunk. I remember my college graduation, where mom, somehow, before Google maps or Yelp or my Milwaukee food yammering, procured profound reservations at long-lost white table cloth gourmet Mexican southside spot El Rey Sol. Of course, I also didn’t care that much, because it was mostly a pitstop on a day well-deserving of getting very, very drunk.

The rest of my Milwaukee occasion-eating can likewise be charted like a sprawling pinned Google map of identity-carving. La Merenda is where I told my parents my novel would be published. Palomino is where we told my mother-in-law we were having a kid, over Bloody’s and Maria’s, piping curds goo-ing with expectation. It is also where I’ve told my wife everything, through the years, our spot of sanctuary, gut-growing comfort, fingers always slick with grease and cocktail condensation. I began my food writing ventures with a dinner at Braise. Vanguard was dad-rock-appropriate and rightly meaty for my first Father’s Day as a father. Von Trier was memorable for impossibly hard news scrubbing. A liquid yuletide dinner at Jamo’s is where I told a new friend that Die Hard 2 was my favorite Christmas movie, thus cementing an annual tradition, quick-contracting an adult life together of corner bars and such ridiculous conversational ping-ponging. I think of the spots and memories as a kind of incomplete Pinterest board, accomplished peak experiences that add up to an old man’s personality, the only truly prized collections of a weathered damaged person as he ambles down creaky basement stairs to be with his thoughts and his whiskey and his sad music.

This is where I ponder them all these days, because, of course, we can’t congregate. Not fully. Not at any more than 25% capacity. Not yet. We must continue to backlog the graduation and retirement celebrations; the birthdays, the date nights, are heretofore banished to arrears. Zarletti has long been a favorite for such big deal days: something so classic in it’s brand of old-school, low-lit, cozy, big-ish city downtown class; a spot from the Billy Joel song, the one about the bottle of white and the bottle of red, that turns drastically halfway through, and always reminds, surprises, wow, Billy Joel is really good. The spot to bring parents, when they are in town, and making a night of it, destination-dining for before a Jerry Seinfeld show. Or James Taylor. Or maybe another Paul Cebar night. Something at Riverside or Pabst or Turner or one of the other venues we sometimes forget about downtown because we only go downtown a few times a year that aren’t Giannis-related, the kind deeming it appropriate to bring parental credit cards and parental-type wine knowledge and the from-out-of-town desire for every appetizer. It was a New Year’s Eve, frigid beyond reason, a reservation and a window seat gazing on Milwaukee Street’s exhibit of amateur night: illegal-looking mini-skirts scooting by, vehement disregard for jackets, everyone flying trashily against the indifferent wind, quick to get to wait in line, outside, at a place called Dick’s. It was a night where I realized all I wanted was to eat, eat more, chase and maintain a wine buzz, and go home to cozy pants and couch hibernation. I realized I’d turned nearly full adult. Zarletti is currently offering curbside, another step in this direction during our time of being grounded, suspended. It’s a bit of make-believe, like when I put a pinky up in the air while pretend-sipping from an impossibly small cup at a tea-party, playing at elegance, it can be a reason to take a shower, put on non-elasticized pants, and be in the world.

Of course, it’s not as easy as it once was. In our DIY celebration experience there was an unexpected iIrritability over what to order across the homefront, unease, uncertainty about such a menu existing on my phone—phone menus generally more of the realm of pizza and tlayudas and short rib melts, the unrefined domain within which I thrive. But, it’s also this: I simply love asking a waiter what to have. The guidance, the expertise, a cultivated person who knows how to pronounce aglio e olio, one who has probably been to Italy more than once, who can do the whole wine presentation rigmarole with appropriate authoritative nonchalance while maintaining white shirt. I was reminded of the crisp, professional Zarletti service and all that our curbside culture leaves me wanting for. All of the plan and the know-how and the guidance that our political system leaves us all wanting for, too. I sought out the phone server’s recommendation, not knowing what to expect—-this is a person answering the phone, this is a person freaked out about job security, this is not your guidance counselor. And, still, there it was, a cheery, helpful rundown of appropriate Chianti’s, clear-voiced reassurance on precise pick-up time, an unabashed endorsement of the bolognese, lending conviction and a jarring reminder of days where you could talk to people who knew more than you, when you could be led, by a leader, united, when somebody in a place of esteem and prominence knew to steer with a gentle hand on back. As if you could talk to a favorite grandma again, count on the chief of your country to pretend to care or know how to think or speak in coherent grown-up sentences.

Even the server seemed to take part, ushering our fare outside before my brakes could even squeal, everything in a crisp stapled bag. Donning a medical mask and gloves, he seemed to have my best interest at heart: “I was starting to worry about you,” he said, coyly indicating my tardiness. You and me both, bub, I thought, but didn’t say, because it’s the kind of banter that doesn’t quite translate that well through a mask. Also, I simply felt slow. My interaction-ability, my small talk, seemed to have grown rust, an attempt at rapport seemed foreign, even dangerous. The languor was likewise synonymous with the entirety of downtown around me, dreamily desolate, like an hour of a city where only criminals are out, it all sucking me down, sponging inertia and energy for big weekend night specialness. In the backseat my daughter didn’t care, she was insistent only on seeing the monstrous inflatable lobster or crab or whatever it is atop the Milwaukee Public Market. I obliged, willingingly, thinking, honestly, it was actually probably the hottest thing going in town at the moment.

By the time we cracked the bottle, lightly re-warmed polpette di carne, veal and beef meatballs in bright pomodoro sauce, started guzzling old unpronounceable grapes, began twirling linguine flecked with pecorino and chile flakes, lacquered with olive oil and garlic, began greedily sponging bolognese stew with torn bread pieces because the all-day-seeming simmer of beef and pork had too much heart for rigatoni-conveyance, everything was right, and, somehow nothing seemed quite right. It was not just the takeout containers, needing to be dumped into real bowls. Or the fact we couldn’t find a candle. Or the dimmer switch in our dining room that buzzes subtly when romantic-levels are sought. Or the presence of a baby monitor between us, where a candle should have been. Or that I had to sweep up my own crumbs, and I don’t even have one of those special server crumb-shovels. Or my Nespresso machine, usually seeming quite nice, adequate for after-dinner digestif-ing, was now somehow not noisy enough, not old enough, not machine enough, more of an espresso app, really, compared to any real Italian joint. Or that I still had white paint crusted on my hands, because I’m at that point in quarantine of wandering around the house, simply wondering what else I might give a coat to. Maybe it was that, mostly, being home after all, I didn’t feel particularly rude looking at my phone mid-meal, and thus ruined the moment like the obvious bad date guy in every Nora Ephron piece. The food could not have been better—and yet it underscored that I’ve never missed a restaurant so much.

Of course I can just as much be a liability in a restaurant. My Clark’s always look too scuffed, I don’t know how or when to tuck in a shirt, when we go through the wine tasting, testing bit—so formal, a pretentious thing all our 18-year-old selves would loathe us for—I feel that I’m suddenly sitting in my father’s borrowed and oversized suit, that I’m about to be called out as a fraud, politely asked to leave the place, be told, “this is for the grown-ups.” But if anybody likes the whole charade more—the welcome of the owner, as Frankie Valli seemingly always hits overhead, who kind of puts out his arms like he’s been waiting, the accepting nod from the host when she finds my name, validates my existence in the tablecloth world, the cocktails at the bar stoking expectation, being handed a menu like a fresh Choose Your Own Adventure but after a two-Negroni buzz, the recitation of clandestine specials from the server like a def jam poetry flow where I feel like snapping fingers, the big night conversation so much more potent, charged, so much less small, the feel of spotting your waiter across the room, seeing his hands full, knowing this is it, your time is now—they have a serious problem.

Places like Zarletti don’t exist solely for special occasions. Under now unimaginable normal circumstances, we could go on a random Wednesday. Or for lunch. But, looking back, what did we ever do to deserve that? Did we get good grades? Memorize enough things in school to progress, avoid the margins of society? Did we have all our vaccines as a tyke and eventually quit smoking and go to the doctor once a year-ish and the dentist twice-a-year, more or less? And so now, yes, we should be good, barring car accident or one of those freak early cancer diagnoses that only really happen to other people anyways? Or are we all, the ones here, now, looking forward to going back to a lifetime of memorable meals so numerous we barely notice them, just incomprehensibly lucky?

As of this writing June doesn’t look much better than May, and July—who knows? I notice a chiropractor appointment has sprouted like a weed in an innocuous white cube a few rows from now, making me wonder how the quarantine time warp has trapezed us into our late middle ages. But otherwise there is certainly space to contemplate, reckon, know and grow expectant of how the Sharpie will be ready—so unused, so hard-up—as to come out in those satisfying soaks where you have to write fast to keep from bleeding out, and then keep going, on to the next weekend. For now, out of nostalgia, out of caution, also out of reasonable hopefulness, I’m setting sights again on New Year’s. There will be reservations, and Milwaukee Street a-twinkle with clamorous revelry and mini-skirts like glorified handkerchiefs going by, the biggest fears of everyone just catching a cold, all of us ready to burn 2020 to the ground, dance on the ashes, drunkenly, irresponsibly, appreciatively clinking glasses, and here will come the waiter, expectant of all my wishes, eager to help, ready to hold my hand.

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kuriquinn · 7 years

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Hey Kuri. I just need a little life advice. How did you find your call in Teaching? I'm kinda struggling right now trying to find what I want to do with my life. Im going back to college soon but the subject I'm studying isn't what I'm interested in. I've tried to love it but its been difficult. I often times feel like a disappointment to my family because my siblings are all doing great and I feel like a loser not getting there yet.

Strap in, there, Anon, this’ll be a long one…

If I’m being honest, my call isn’t teaching - it’s writing. Even now, though I have a Big Girl Job and everything, which pays my bills and keeps my fur babies in food and toys, I consider my writing to be my real job. Even if, at the moment, it’s just writing fanfiction.

The first piece of advice I would give you for anything in your future is to do something you love. That way it will never be a chore and you will stick with it longer than five minutes.

Now, on the heel of that, the second piece of advice is: if you can’t pursue your passion, pursue something you don’t hate. And it might take you a while to figure out what that is.

I graduated high school with pretty decent grades, went to a good college and did well there (Liberal Arts), and I applied to university hoping to major in Creative Writing and Minor in German Language. My outside logic was: it would help me get into a writing field like journalism or translation. Inwardly, I figured I was just taking university courses while I was busy writing my novel and that before graduating I would be published and famous and rich.

Yeah, eighteen-year-old me was a bit of a naive idiot.

Cue life-experience:

My parents were kind of wary about the whole thing, they didn’t really believe I was doing a good thing, but it was my choice and they had to respect it. They knew what I didn’t, but would learn for myself. At the time I was also working in a bookstore, which while not my passion or anything, I actually enjoyed. Work never felt like work, and for minimum wage, that’s a good thing.

Flash forward to my first semester of university, in which I learned that a) my German skills were beyond what I could be taught at uni and I wouldn’t be able to take half of the courses I needed to fill my minor, so it was basically a waste of time to take and b) my Creative Writing classes basically centered around having a published author (and I use this term loosely to define a person who self-published one grungy, literary shock fiction and passed it off as literature) get up and talk about how to write. And not write actual good stories with decent plots and characters and such, but the gritty, sensory, detailed lyrical crap…and if you didn’t try to write exactly like that person, they flunked you.

So trying to follow my first passion didn’t exactly pan out.

I ended up switching my degree completely, majoring in Classical Civilisation and minoring in History. I figured, I love history, and I love research, maybe a degree in this could help me get a job in museum studies or as a researcher or something. The next two years passed quite nicely…and though my part-time bookstore job fell through because of crappy managers, I started to tutor a lot more (and my brother was in his last years of high school at this point, and needed my help getting through his classes) and I realised that I was actually pretty good at breaking down information and explaining it in different ways. Plus, I already had a lot of experience with learning difficulties due to my brother.

So, one year before I graduated, I get the bright idea to become a teacher. I had enough credits to switch majors, but the problem was, my university only offered Early Childhood Education…and while I dearly love little kids, more than five or six of them below the age of ten would probably drive me insane. I figured teenagers would be more mature.

(*pause* *waits for riotous laughter from Those Who Know Better*)

Anyhow, I had to apply to a whole new university program just to get into a high school teaching program. And that was the most miserable two years of my life, because teacher education is the most useless piece of trash degree you can take. You know when you learn? When they stick you in a school as a student teacher. I didn’t learn one thing from my second university degree except that sometimes the only way to move on to the next stage of your life is to sit through the boring shit and get a stupid piece of paper saying you sat through the boring shit.

And THEN…

I didn’t even get a job for another two years.

The thing people don’t tell you about university is that when you get out, there is almost no one hiring. The Baby Boomer generation is not retiring any time soon, the job market is flooded with so many newcomers that competition is fierce, and on top of that, your chances are reduces based on what field you go into. Science, Engineering, Computers, Medicine, Business and Law? Competition will be fierce, but you will definitely have a job at the end of your degree. Anything else? Unless you somehow become famous, every other job out there has a crappy percntage of hiring, and chances are you are going to have to get an average Joe job for a year or two before you actually get hired to do what you studied.

Me, I had one learning experience where I moved to England because there’s a huge demand for teachers (and learned why there’s a huge demand is because the school system there is complete shite), and then spent a year unemployed and basically acting as an unpaid domestic/caregiver because my mother was sick (I lived at home, though, so that’s why it worked out). I still tutored when I could, but I didn’t have as many clients as I had hoped for. Things were so bad at this point and I was so depressed I couldn’t even write…

I did finally get hired, but the way I did won’t make you feel better. I basically sent my resume to one of the schools where I did my field experience, telling them I was available for tutoring in the upcoming year. I got a call back (on my birthday) to see if I was interested in taking on an actual teaching job - they remembered me from my internship and remembered my brother (who once was a student there).

So I basically got the job because I knew someone.

And that’s the reality of it. You will not get a job (in certain fields, at least) unless you know someone. Networking and good interview skills are so important to getting hired these days, and your ability to be social (or fake being social) is key.

Even now, I’m not exactly secure in my job. As a teacher in the private sector, I don’t even have a contract. I literally spend every August sitting by the phone biting my nails hoping that they’re going to call me back for the year.

But it’s a foot in the door. You always have to think about it that way.

Contrast this to my brother - he finished high school, took a trade (auto mechanics), and had a job within a year. He now makes and will continue to make more in a year than what I will in two. He had his forever job at 19; I didn’t find mine until I was 27.

Now, if you’re still with me and I didn’t bore you with my life’s story, here’s the take away:

1. Pursue your passion. If you can make a living from it, you’re one of the lucky few. Keep doing you, and don’t let anyone tell you differently. Friends, family or loved ones, it doesn’t matter what they think.

2. If you can’t pursue your passion (full time, at least), do something that you don’t hate. Something that you are good at, a job where you can show up to and do your work happily and then go home at the end of the day and not stress about. Again, if anyone is telling you to do something you hate, DON’T. In five years, you’ll be burnt out, stressed and miserable. It is so not worth it. And if this is an Average Joe Job like working in a bookstore? Fine. Do that. It gives you more time to pursue your actual passions, and looks good on a resume.

3. Get a trade. Seriously, if you put off university for a year to get a trade, like real estate or mechanics or electrician or something, you not only give yourself the ability to be hired sooner, you can also support yourself throughout your academic career - and for those of you facing a future of student loans, this is so important!

4. If you pursue higher education, be prepared to change your mind A LOT before you graduate. You might find your are more interested or better at a certain subject that you thought, or a complete loss. There is nothing wrong with changing your major or minor until you find the right fit, just make sure you get all your General Education courses out of the way first so that you have that leeway.

5. After graduating, unless you’re in certain career fields, be prepared not to have a job right away. Get an Average Joe Job to keep you going, keep sending out CVs and going to interviews, and just hang in there - you will eventually get there, even if it takes you a little longer than your friends. And network! Make sure you keep in contact with people who might be able to help you in your career.

6. If you have the money and means, travel. Because chances are you won’t have the chance to do it once you join the rat-race.

7. MOST IMPORTANT: Do not let stress take over your life. You MUST find a way to balance your life while you worry about school/career stuff. Go out with your friends, travel when you can (even if it’s just a day trip to a museum!), write or paint or play music or build models or code or binge watch your tv show of choice, or whatever it is you do for fun - make sure you do it every day. Because your brain needs a way to unwind from the not so pleasant adulty stuff.

Anyhow, that’s the advice Twenty-Nine-Year-Old-Present-Me would give Nineteen-Year-Old-Me on the eve of starting university. I don’t know if she’d listen to all of it, but I wish someone had told me all that. Especially the parts about not getting a job right away. I thought I was a humongous failure because I couldn’t find work, when the reality was, I was just one of thousands of people seeking employment in an uncertain economic environment.

So, on that note, I hope that you managed to find some comfort or guidance in these words. Remember, you are not a disappointment and everyone moves at their own pace. Maybe you’re having a slow year and your siblings aren’t. Maybe next year you’ll be the one who has exciting new opportunities and they are stuck in a rut. Our lives are very static and you never know what’s coming around the next bend. Just keep on keeping on.

And personally? If I was struggling to love my college program? I would take a very good look at whether it was really for me.

Thanks for the ask :)

#advice #ask kuri #life lessons #the important thing is to breathe #career #school #passions #wish someone had told me this #the more you know

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imagine-a-life-like-this · 3 years

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Was It You? Ending B (P.JM)

Warnings : mentions of cancer, mentions of a car accident, memory loss

Word Count : 2139

Synopsis : after losing all but one of her memories, she makes it her mission to find the boy in her memory. fate seems to do her work for her, but is he really who she’s been looking for?

Author’s Note : this is the second ending to the imagine i posted yesterday. i hope you enjoyed both of them!

“I don’t like yellow.” I pouted up at him and he just smiled at me, taking a seat beside me, and taking the ring from the box.

“Okay.” He slid the ring on my finger the way we’ve seen in movies.

“Does that mean I can go back to Korea?” I asked hopefully, wanting to return to my hometown and find the boy from my only lasting memory.

3 Months Later

No need to apologize. I’m glad he gave me your number. I stared down at his text, my smile growing wider at the implication that he wanted my number.

Me too.

We spent the rest of the night talking when I really should have been studying for my upcoming exam. But getting to know the cute boy, Park Jimin, seemed a lot more important than my grades.

“What do you mean?” I asked as confusion took over my features.

“What did the plastic ring look like?” I asked, needing to know. Say yellow star. Please just say yellow star. I pleaded in my mind.

“It was pink, because that’s your favourite colour.” He smiled as he placed his own cutlery down and taking my hand in his. “Why are you asking, love?” I stared at him as I thought back on the last 9 months we’ve spent together. I thought back on all the love he’s given me and how happy he’s made me. It was my mission to find the man who gave me the ring when we were kids, and I found him. But we’ve both grown up and changed so much. I don’t remember how happy Taehyung made me when we were younger, but I know how happy Jimin has made me.

“It was pink.” I lied with a smile. He knows I lied. I know he knows I know he lied. He smiled at me just like he has these past 9 months. I took my hand back and picked up my cutlery again, digging into my meal I’ve barely touched.

“I was hoping to exchange that ring though.” Jimin said as he reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a small velvet box. “I love you, Y/N. And I know we have so much left to do before we can think of marriage, but I hope you’ll accept this ring. I hope you’ll promise me that you’ll spend forever by my side.”

“Of course I will.” I smiled, looking down at the ring as he slid it on my finger. He grabbed my hand and brought it up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss above where he placed the ring. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He may not be the man I was looking for, but he’s the man I fell in love with. Taehyung was my childhood, my past, but Jimin is my present and my future.

#was it you?#bts #bts imagine #park jimin #park jimin imagine #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #kim namjoon

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rue-by-another-name · 7 years

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“Flat out” - h.s. Part 1

Prepare for the domestic cuteness.

-----

It was more your flat than it was Harry’s now, after years of living in it. Originally, it had started under the premise that you would only remain in his flat for as long as it took you to find your own place. Which was fine, because he wasn’t staying there and you needed a place as uni started and you were friends, close friends, and it was all fine and dandy.

But then you really started to get busy with your schoolwork and considering the workaholic and professional perfectionist that you were, you were constantly on the move between classes and work and more classes and your second job. And besides, Harry was really only in and out at that point. The tour was coming to an end, the band was on their final days, and Harry really hadn’t thought much of it that you had now lived in his London flat for an entire year.

And also, he felt bad. He felt bad that you felt the need to always support and provide for yourself and that you were doing nothing but working yourself to death in order to pay your tuition and then be able to find your own living conditions and so finally he had said, “Just stay here. Stop worrying about it. You’re fine here, Y/N. Really.”

Though you’d fought it originally, you knew that in order to keep your perfect grades in tact and be able to get to work on time, there was no better place to live than where Harry was. You were centrally located now considering you’d applied to jobs close to Harry’s flat so you could walk, and you only had to walk a solid fifteen minutes to get on campus. You were comfortable, Harry was comfortable, all was well.

And now you were going on your fourth year of living in the homey flat right off campus with the brick walls and open kitchen and perfect studying nooks. Harry was back now, he had been for two years now really, and you’d fallen into this sort of domestic companionship with one another that you knew you’d never be able to replicate with anyone ever again in your lifetime.

You’d met back when you were an intern at some dumb bubblegum pop magazine. You’d hated it, but it had been close to your house and you’d needed an internship and you got to write articles, which was more than other internships would let you do. You and Harry had been young, mid-teens, and the snowstorm had really put a wrench in the boys’ traveling plans.

Somehow, over the course of hours, you and Harry had grown close. He found your loathing of paparazzi press cute and you found his overall outlook on life to be rather endearing. Friendship quickly ensued. You’d fallen out of contact once a couple years after when Harry had gotten a serious girlfriend and you had been applying for uni like a madwoman, but you’d found your way back to each other every time. It wasn’t the kind of friendship either where you needed to be in constant contact to click, but instead you could go months without seeing his dimples pop and you’d be just as happy to see him no matter what.

But now you’d been living together for almost two and a half years. Harry came and went every once in a while. He’d been gone for a while as he’d worked on his movie, and you’d studied abroad a semester far away from him, and suddenly the distance was becoming a bit harder on the two of you. But probably because you’d gotten so attached to the idea of constantly being together, that now you took it for granted.

You were running up the steps in the rain, your wellies sloshing along the pavement as you wrestled with your umbrella in the cold night wind. It was pouring buckets and you were absolutely soaked regardless of your rain jacket and useless umbrella and you were pissed.

After two weeks at your international law convention, you’d really thought you would have gotten some sort of job offer. You’d always though you’d wanted to be a journalist for the people, you know? Give those a voice who don’t have one. But you realized, after a year into school that what you really wanted was a law degree, to not only write for the people but to fight for them too. You knew that your time in school was almost up and you were studying vigorously for your final exams, but this convention had opened your eyes to the amount of firms out in the world that you wanted to work for - and it seemed none of them were interested in you.

Flinging open the door, Harry didn’t even flinch as you sloshed and stamped your way into the small foyer. You threw your umbrella down - and if it wasn’t broken before, it definitely was now - before casting your jacket aside roughly, stomping out of your boots and dropping your bag at your feet, all but basically chucking your keys into the small ceramic bowl Harry had made proudly at one of your pottery and wine fiascos.

It was a truly hideous thing, really, but he was so proud of it so you let it stay.

Harry smirked as you did a ballet act while twirling around, attempting to get your wet jumper off your body, mumbling and groaning under your breath the entire time. Your skirt was riding up a bit, sticking to your stockings in an odd fashion, and Harry could tell you were really, really struggling.

“Hey. Hey!” he chuckled, coming over and grabbing your arm as you almost swung out and hit him. “Calm down moppet, you’re going to break something.”

He pulled the jumper from your outstretched arms and smiled at you endearingly. Your cheeks were flushed, your hair was sticking to your forehead, and your eyes were blazing as you glared back at him.

“I’ve put in so much time, effort, blood, sweat, tears, and money into my future career,” you grumbled, “And it’s as if I’m invisible.”

“It was one convention,” Harry squeezed your shoulder as you turned so he could zip down your skirt for you. You stepped out of it, huffing as you pushed your plastered hair from your forehead. The fact that you were standing in the middle of the living room in nothing but your bra, stockings, and thong really didn’t bother you nor Harry considering you hardly ever wore pants around the flat. But Harry couldn’t help but look at the freckles covering your body, the goosebumps risen from the cold, and the cute way your skin flushed from your anger.

He cleared his throat.

“Tell you what,” he said, walking over to the side laundry room and tossing your wet clothes in the washer, “Why don’t you go take a shower and calm down - unwind a little, yeah? And I’ll finish making dinner and we can eat.”

“No,” you shook your head, “You’re not allowed to cook tonight. You’ve cooked the past two nights.”

Harry gave you a quizzical look. “Well, what else am I supposed to do?”

“Um ... I don’t know? Go out and party with your friends? Plan your upcoming birthday party? Call your mum?”

Harry shrugged, “I want to cook.”

Y/N rubbed her tired face before letting out a long, tired sigh. Harry stood before you in his loose shirt and sweats, arms crossed as he gave you a playful look. He was happy he was back for your final years of uni. He couldn’t imagine you living on your own through this stressful time. He felt uneasy thinking you’d been stressed and alone your first years as well.

He opened his arms and you didn’t even hesitate as you rested your forehead on his chest, slowly wrapping your arms around his waist as you just stood and hugged his warm body for a couple of minutes.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” he mumbled against your hair, puckering his lips against your head and pressing them firmly to your wet hair. “You’re going to make a kick-ass lawyer.”

“Thank you,” you mumbled against his shirt. It smelled good, like him, and you liked the smell of Harry wrapped around you. It comforted you.

“Now go shower and get warm,” Harry sighed pulling away and squeezing your shoulder again. “I can feel your nips through your bra.”

“Oh hush,” you laughed, swatting at his arm before making your way to your room. You were lucky that the flat had more than one bedroom, because as much as you and Harry liked to cuddle, you also liked your space. Plus, it would be awkward if you shared a room considering Harry sometimes brought home girls. Plus, when you studied late into the night you were glad it didn’t disrupt his sleeping pattern.

But, there was only one bathroom, and so you always got confused which shampoo was yours and which was Harry’s, which body wash you liked and which one made your skin feel itchy. It was a routine and running habit that you used each other’s cosmetics, and you’d had to cover Harry’s hickeys so often with concealer that you’d eventually just bought one to match his skin tone instead of using yours.

For some reason this is what you decided to think upon as you showered, allowing the warm waters to soothe not only your skin but your mind. You didn’t realize you had been in the shower for so long until Harry knocked on the door, entering the bathroom were he was overcome with steam.

“You trying to drown yourself in here or something? Fall asleep in there?”

You frowned at him as you poked your head out from behind the curtain. “I was thinking.”

“You can think while we eat.” Harry tossed you a towel, “Spaghetti is getting cold.”

Eating at the table wasn’t even considered as you and Harry grabbed your plates of pasta and made your way to the couch. Harry had already poured some wine, leaving them on the coffee table as you sat down and twirled noodles around your fork. You and Harry shared a blanket, the quiet sound of music playing in the background as you ate.

“So have you thought about what you want to do for your birthday?” you asked, slurping a noodle unattractively before some of it slapped against your cheek and left some sauce on your face.

Harry smirked and reached out with his thumb, wiping it from your face before sucking it off his thumb and shrugging, “Not really sure I want to do much.”

“But birthdays are important,” you nodded. Your birthday was tomorrow, not that you had mentioned it or Harry had either. You wondered if he remembered, or if you should tell him to remind him. Birthdays had always been so awkward for you. You would hang out with friends kind of, or order some pizza for yourself. But mainly you’d been so focused on school these past couple of years that you hadn’t celebrated much.

“I know,” Harry sighed, “But I have a lot going on right now. Don't really feel like planning anything.”

“You have nothing going on.”

“Oi!” Harry pouted, “I have much going on. I work and stuff.”

“Seriously, what do you do during the day?” you inquired, letting out a small chuckle as Harry rolled his eyes.

You knew Harry was busy usually. He had meetings and was doing some music work as well as some TV work too. He made plans with friends and was out late some nights. He had a life, and the fact that you very so much didn’t have one and you were essentially married to your textbooks didn’t stop him from going out and having a good time. Not that you minded because his absence was usually nice so that you could get your work done, but it was also nice the nights he stayed in.

The nights Harry stayed in you didn’t work yourself to exhaustion. You were reminded to eat, you saw three or four funny YouTube videos after continued insistence, and you usually ended up going to bed at a reasonable hour. It was the nights Harry was away that you were still up when he got back - when he got back the next morning.

“Well I think you should plan something,” you shrugged, “Something fun. Something tropical and away from this mucky weather.”

“Are you merely suggesting that so we can fly out somewhere warm?” Harry smirked, “Just using me for my money?”

You shrugged, “I was the one that paid to fix the sink last month.”

Harry couldn’t stop himself from laughing, full on dimples out head thrown back laughing before he regarded your small and contained giggle. You tried to pretend you were some one-line genius comedian with a stone face, but Harry knew that inside you were wanting to just burst out laughing as much as he was. His foot came up to nudge you in the ribs and you squirmed, pretending not to be as effected as you were.

“Y/N,” he insisted, nudging you again.

“Shut up. Stop it,” you huffed, wiggling again and trying desperately not to break you somewhat straight face. Finally, Harry leaned over and nuzzled his nose into your cheek, tickling your ribs with his fingers until you were arching your back and laughing.

“Okay okay! You git,” you tossed a pillow at him. “Knock it off. I have to get back to studying.”

Harry groaned, “But you just got home.”

“I want to get as much done as I can tonight,” you shrugged, standing up and taking your empty plates back to the kitchen. Harry followed you, offering to help with the dishes but you decline. He’d cooked so you would clean. He sat on the countertop on his phone as you washed the dishes, rolling up your sleeves so the water didn’t soak them as you started cleaning out the big pot Harry had cooked the pasta in.

“Hey,” Harry said suddenly, his voice soft and contemplative as he continued to look down at his phone, back hunched over and legs swinging out and in as if a pendulum on a piano.

“Yeah.”

“I think I met someone.”

The words weren’t unfamiliar to you. There had been many times Harry had “met someone” for a solid couple weeks or so. The longest Someone had lasted about a month and a half, if you recalled correctly.

“Oh yeah?” you asked, “What’s her name?”

“Met her about three weeks ago,” Harry continued, ignoring your question, “Been talking ever since. She’s pretty interesting.”

“Three weeks ago?” you frowned. Usually Harry flat out told you when he’d met Someone, and the fact that he had waited three weeks to tell you about this new Someone was something different and unfamiliar to you. You finished drying off your hands and turned to him, “What’s her name?”

“Maggie,” Harry cleared his throat, “That girl in your library?”

You once again were stumped for words. “Freshman Maggie?”

Harry gave you a quizzical look, “S’that what you call her?”

“I mean ...” Maggie was cute. She was a freshmen on campus in your department and had somehow landed herself in some very high and achieving classes. She was smart, ridiculously smart, and she worked at the library as a stocker of the law section. She put all the books back and checked out every law book on campus for every law student. It was almost as if no one was reading something unless Maggie had given it to them. Maggie was a rare breed of smart, nice, and yet insanely clumsy but pulled together and you still couldn’t figure her out.

“She’s sweet.” Harry had started pulling at his bottom lip and you could tell he was starting to get nervous by your silence. He valued your opinion immensely, and the fact that you were just staring at him passively was starting to kind of freak him out. “Y/N?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, turning back to the sink, “She’s very sweet. Very smart. She sits in on some of the senior discussions just because she likes a challenge.

“I thought you said she was a -”

“Yeah she’s a freshmen.”

“Wow. That’s impressive.”

“Extremely. Second semester freshmen are usually finally coming out of their nooks and crannies after their first semester of hell. She kind of seemed to just breeze through it.”

“Well she’s very humble. Never told me about it.”

“In your three weeks of talking her being a brain child hasn’t come up?” you asked, feeling the thin layer of ice coat your words as you started to walk towards the other side of the kitchen counter where your books and journals all lay scattered.

Harry watched you messily toss them all together, creating stacks and piles of books and notes that he would have never guessed went together. “Are ya mad at me?” he asked hesitantly, almost afraid of the answer.

“No. Why would I be mad at you?” And you weren’t mad at Harry, really you weren’t. It was more Maggie you disliked. She was too sweet, too smart, too humble. She seemed to understand law the way people understood the weather or when someone said, “1 + 1 = 2.”

And you didn’t.

So mainly you were just jealous after a long day of what felt like failures. You picked up quickly on your petty immature nature and dropped your books back on the counter, rubbing your face and letting out a long sigh.

“I promise I’m not mad, love,” you said, giving Harry a small smile. “I just ... she’s very smart and better than all this at me. And after today it’s just a reminder of my failures.”

Harry was beside you quicker than you could blink, rubbing your arms with his thumbs as he gripped you tightly. “You’re going to make an amazing lawyer and I’ll continue to say it as many times as you need me to remind you. You’re amazing, okay?”

You wanted to roll your eyes at Harry for being such a freaking dork, but you couldn’t help but smile, biting your lip to keep the wide break of your face to travel too far. “So how did you and Maggie meet anyway?”

“When I dropped off your lunch at your study group,” Harry let go of your arms and leaned against the countertop, “She was working the desk and showed me where to go. She’s very cute with those glasses.”

You nodded. Maggie had cute thick-rimmed glasses that framed her freckled face and looked spunky contrasting her frizzy yet impeccably contained afro. You were jealous of really everything about her.

“Well you should invite her over or something,” you shrugged, “Have her for dinner. You always like to cook your Someones dinner.”

Harry made a noise of protest, “I don’t always -”

“Yes you do,” you tsked, cutting him off as you gathered your books and made your way down the hall to your bedroom. Harry followed in hopes of redeeming himself.

“You think you know me and my dating styles so well then?” Harry joked, realizing he was egging you on as you turned at him and raised an eyebrow.

“First step is cooking something for your Someone, and then of course you’ll ask them out for a real date. Then after that you’ll have a night in again at their place and you won’t come home after that. Then Someone will be around here for a little while as they make themselves at home, wear your t-shirts, tamper with my coffee machine. We’ll have at least one morning talk in the kitchen before you get up - it’s a ceremonial girl thing. Then, you’ll take your Someone on another nice date and I won’t see you for about a week or so as you crash at their place and play house. Then Someone will say something that will unnerve you, or you’ll get tired of Someone’s presence or vise versa and you’ll come back here, to this flat, where you’ll demand I make you grilled cheese and tomato soup.”

Harry was quiet as you challenged him with the silence. “Well am I wrong?”

You couldn’t help but smirk at Harry’s gapping mouth as he seemed to be breathing in an attempt of a comeback. You were right, down to the tee and right on the mark, and he knew you were right too. But he was hoping things would be different with Maggie, and that’s why he’d waited so long to tell you in the first place.

You sighed, “Ask her over for dinner.”

“You won’t mind?”

“Why are you even asking me? This is your flat,” you scoffed, kicking your door open to your room - the room you’d lived in for almost four years. Harry looked at the walls of notes you’d taped up, the pictures you had on your desk, the closet exploding with professional and lounge clothes together in harmony. This room was far more lived-in than his, and deep down he knew that this flat had changed completely since you’d moved in.

This flat, this piece of his life, was you. It was all you. You were all over the teal plates in the kitchen and the new brown leather couch in the living room. You were all over plants surrounding the front window facing the street and the small little table that housed all your keys and trinkets and his God-awful bowl right beside the door. You were the dark burgundy carpet under the couch and coffee table against the wooden floor that he dragged his feet on to shock you as often as he could. You were the white window curtains in his room now that let in just the perfect amount of light.

Harry knew that this was more your flat than it was his. He knew that even though you'd asked him to help pay and replace some of the things - the couch, the carpet, the plates - that you’d also put quite a lot of money into this flat as well to make it as homey and inviting whenever he got home. But he was afraid to remind you just how permanent you were in this flat, because he was afraid it would freak you out and you would leave.

Not that he was scared of you leaving, you were only friends.

“Just cause,” he shrugged, “Wanted to be polite.”

You turned and looked at him, nodding and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah well ...” you sighed, “I’m sure she’d like your cooking. Now get out, I need to get my work done and get ready for tomorrow.”

“What’s tomorrow?”

You debated telling him, wondering if he was pulling off some act where he was miraculously forgetting your birthday only to then surprise you in the end. You figured he was playing an angle. Harry Styles was always playing an angle. So you just left it, shrugging nonchalantly. “It’s just another day.”

Harry nodded. “I’ll talk to Maggie about dinner than.”

“Goodnight Harry.”

“Don’t stay up too late okay?”

“Not planning on it.”

“Okay. Well, goodnight then.”

“Goodnight Harry.”

“Sleep well.”

“Yeah ... you too.”

Harry went to close the door before opening it again and chewing on his lip, “Thanks for not freaking out about Maggie. I know I usually tell you this stuff. I’m just tired of things not turning out.”

You gave him a soft smile. “Of course. Text her now about dinner before you forget or lose confidence.”

The smile on Harry’s face warmed your heart because he really did care. Harry Styles cared so much. He cared almost to a fault, and that’s why you were so sure this Someone, Maggie or not, would turn out like all the rest. Because every Someone has something Harry eventually doesn’t like, and because he cares to a fault he ends up caring too much for the other person to handle, and Freshmen Maggie was not the Someone Harry would stick around with - that, at least, you were sure of.

-----

Cute homey and cuddly story with realistic feelings and live problems. Yay! Hope you all enjoyed it!

Requests for Part 2 HERE.

#harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fluff #rue_by_another_name #harry styles series #harry styles fanfiction #flat out

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noshinxd · 7 years

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Love Yourself First

The past few years of my life, people have been constantly telling me to start a blog about my experiences. I have been told that I have had too many “cool things” happen to me to not tell the world about them. I always brushed it off because the cool things that people would say happened to me were simply just experiences that I craved. I wanted to get front row at a concert, so I made it happen multiple times. I wanted to meet a member of One Direction, so it happened. These experiences that have shaped me these past few years were cool, yes. What people don’t realize is that there’s a lot of ugly behind the happiness. Yes, I have had cool experiences, but that only happened because I started loving myself first.

In middle school and high school, it’s safe to say that I wasn’t happy. I hated being around the petty and dramatic people in my town. I hated being stuck here. I hated people bullying me into thinking I had to do something to fit in. I was already insecure about everything about myself from my skin to my hair to personality to my weight. I felt like everything I did would annoy the people who were meant to be my friends. I just was never happy, and that’s why I turned to music.

Honestly, there has been nothing more important to me in my life than music. I remember begging my parents for my first IPod as a 5th grade graduation present. I remember being OBSESSED with the Jonas Brothers, All Time Low, and Mayday Parade in middle school. In middle school, I felt like a complete outcast. I was never as cool or as pretty as my cousins, and it just made me more insecure. There was one time that someone paid a guy to give me a hug. That's how bad it was for me. Unreal, right? That’s why I loved the Jonas Brothers so much. They were from my area, and I always saw them as proof that you could escape the small town. I think I lived my preteen years with headphones blasting at full volume in my ears.

In high school, it’s safe to say music became growingly more important. People would make fun of me for loving boybands and musicians so much. I remember an incident where a girl actually walked behind me and started laughing at my love for the Jonas Brothers. But still, music was my escape from that reality. When I wouldn’t have that escape from reality, I would crash. Sophomore year I went to the hospital for self harm. Thankfully, summer going into junior year, I found a new escape from reality with One Direction and Ed Sheeran. I definitely still got made fun of though.

My senior year, I started going to a lot more concerts. I would skip school every once in a while, and I would just go to the city for a show. Seeing my favorite musicians in person and feeling that emotion with more people in the room has always felt right since then.

Freshman year was rough for me. I wanted to go into college as a communications major, but I had outside family telling me I was too smart for that. I was too smart to be doing something I love. So I chose something that I always had an interest in, but never truly loved. My first roommate and I were complete opposites. I just wanted to not worry about people liking me for once, but that’s all freshman year is about. I drank a lot, which is funny because I actually hate drinking (most of the time I go out I’m sober and really only go for the music). I was depressed, but no one knew. The girls down the hall threw cheese on me one day as a ‘joke,’ but they just really didn’t get why I was so hurt by that. My roommate called public safety on me on my birthday for throwing up. I ended up having to go to the hospital again for self harm. When my roommate moved out, the rest of the semester, I felt like I had a decent group of friends. But underneath it all, I was still sad. I never told anyone how depressed I was. I never talked about how I felt that everyone around me thought I was oblivious or stupid, when I noticed every little side comment. Unfortunately, that resulted in a pretty rough second semester for me.

I really lucked out sophomore year of college because I started surrounding myself with people who had similar interests and good hearts. I changed my major to communications because music is the only thing I love. I took trips to LA, Philly, Toronto, and Boston. I went to concerts, and I focused on myself. I was genuinely happy.

Junior year honestly was the hardest for me, but I’m proud of myself for it. Throughout the year, I was commuting back and forth from CT and NJ because I had an internship in NYC. It was cheaper to take the train from NJ than New Haven. On top of taking 6 classes each semester and interning in the city, I was also working 2 jobs. I did give up going out, but honestly, I’ve never even been the person who enjoys it. I love staying in and watching movies or just talking to my friends. Unfortunately there were some people who didn’t understand why I was working so much, but I realized that I need to focus on myself more. Junior year, I took a spontaneous trip to Los Angeles, and my friend and I talked our way into the American Music Awards. I went to a party with YouTubers. I talked to some musicians I admire. I interned for a record label!

This past semester, I studied abroad in London, and I graduated early. I went to concerts, met celebrity crushes, and traveled. I just focused on making myself happy.

I’m gonna be honest. I have moments of insecurity every week. I have moments where I physically can’t breathe because I’m so anxious and nervous about something I said a week ago or a situation that’s upcoming. It’s hard to just let go of all of those feelings.

However, over the past two years, I have realized that people will always have something to say. People will always be mean. People will always belittle your intelligence or look at you as if you’re beneath them. Through all of that though, the only opinion that matters is my own. It doesn’t matter if someone thinks I am 'dumb’ because I know I’m not. I get straight As, and I can probably tell you secrets just from little behavioral hints I pick up. I just choose to not talk about things that aren’t relevant to me. It doesn’t matter if someone thinks I’m not pretty because I think I’m confident in myself. It doesn’t matter that people think I am flaky or work too much or am selfish. In the end, I know who I am, I know the people who are worth caring about in my life, and I know that my experiences are for making me happy.

I have had a lot of cool things happen to me and maybe I will start writing about them. However, right now, I’m still focusing on doing things to make me happy. I don’t need to show the world who I am because my family and friends already know who I am. I am strong, independent, intelligent, and confident, and I am trying my best to live my dreams.

#personal #rant #late night thoughts #one direction #jonas brothers #music

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lifewithkasia · 4 years

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Ubulgowałam się

Mimo, że astrologicznie moim żywiołem jest powietrze, od kiedy pamiętam jestem związana z wodą. Na nieszczęście mojej mamy, większość wakacji spędzałyśmy nad różnorakimi zbiornikami, od basenu, przez zalewy i jeziora, aż do morza, w których ja spędzałam 95% czasu poświęconego na plażowanie. Z przerwami na frytki, siku i lody. Nie miała więc lekkiego życia i nie mogła poddawać się przyjemności opalania, tak jak jej koleżanki, których dzieci bały się wody, wolały zabawy w piasku, albo rozważnie umiały sobie dawkować przyjemności. Zamki co prawda też były dla mnie spoko, ale tylko takie z fosą, które trzeba było budować blisko brzegu, i przy okazji móc zamoczyć chociaż jedną nogę. Zawsze na ochotniczkę zgłaszałam się też do chodzenia nad brzeg, by przynieść wodę do bezsensownej dziury z błotem, która z perspektywy czasu wydaje się piękną metaforą nadchodzącej dorosłości. Moje wędrówki często przeciągały się do sprawdzenia stanu wody na wysokości pośladków i zupełnie nieplanowanego nura na kilka minut. Zapału jako studniowej mi nie brakowało, gorzej bywało z wykonaniem.

Na początku dawałam się jeszcze omotać i zadowalałam się kąpielą w dmuchanym basenie...

To dlatego moja mama większość czasu spędzała nie na ręczniku, tylko stojąc na granicy mokrego piachu i niczym cerber monitorując, czy jeszcze trzymam się na powierzchni wody. Niejednokrotnie plażowanie kończyło się awanturą, kiedy siłą musiała wyciągać mnie z wody, bo twarz, wskutek wiadomej temperatury Bałtyku, nabierała koloru dojrzałego siniaka, ale ja dalej twardo utrzymywałam, że jest mi ciepło i mogę jeszcze chwilę zostać.

Stawanie na rękach, podwodne fikołki, skakanie na falach pochłaniały mnie na tyle, że w porównaniu do czasu spędzonego w wodzie, pływać nauczyłam się stosunkowo późno. Brak strachu skrócił jednak proces do jednego popołudnia nad tomaszowskim, otwartym basenem. Po kilku próbach unoszenia się na rękach niewiele starszej koleżanki, po prostu odpłynęłam i tak już zostało. Basen i pływanie cudem ocaliły mnie także przed niesklasyfikowaniem z wuefu w burzliwych czasach gimnazjum, kiedy po 2,5 roku zwolnienia lekarskiego dostałam piłkę do koszykówki do niefortunnie zrośniętej ręki i słowo „Powodzenia!” rzucone przez niezbyt zaangażowaną w rozwój sportowych kaleczniaków nauczycielkę. Dodatkowe zajęcia SKS na basenie podciągnęły moją ocenę na czwórę na szynach i pomogły osiągnąć umiejętność przemieszczania się pod wodą.

...szybko jednak uświadomiłam sobie co tracę i wszelkie próby zatrzymania mnie na leżaku, kończyły się przynajmniej strzeleniem focha.

Pokusiłabym się nawet o stwierdzenie, że pływanie to mój ulubiony sport. Jednak z wiekiem zanurzanie się w zimnej wodzie na początku i suszenie włosów na sam koniec coraz bardziej oddalało mnie od całokształtu przyjemności. W tej kategorii muszę więc chyba pozostać przy pasjansie i Mango TV (kliknij i czytaj).

Na tym moje doświadczenie z wodą się nie kończy. Chociaż pływanie opanowałam w okolicach 10. urodzin, swoją pierwszą przygodę z nurkowaniem zaliczyłam jeszcze przed zdaniem ze żłobka do przedszkola (kliknij i czytaj) i nauką poprawnej wymowy stylów pływackich. I nie mówię tu oczywiście o wyrafinowanych kursach z unoszenia się na powierzchni, tak modnych teraz u grupy docelowej bąbelków i ich piastunów.

W połowie plażowego dnia wszystkie moje ubrania były już najczęściej przemoczone, dlatego mama musiała pożyczać dla mnie ciuchy od dzieci znajomych.

Rzecz również wydarzyła się w Tomaszowie Lubelskim, z racji wieku i wzrostu, w tak zwanym brodziku. Z okazji nowego sezonu letniego, zapowiedzi upalnego lata w Programie 1 Polskiego Radia oraz planach wyjazdu do kuzynki, moja mama przygotowała dla mnie specjalny wypadowy zestaw, którego najważniejszym elementem było dmuchany sprzęt w kształcie półksiężyca. Pierwsze próby na basenie zawiodły, rogal był za duży i z niego wypadałam, dlatego tył zawiązała tasiemką. Wyglądało na to, że wszystko działa.

Kolejnego dnia zainstalowała mnie w podrasowanym sprzęcie i sprawdziła czy dobrze się bawię. Zadowolona ze swojego wynalazku, zagadała się z grupą znajomych.

Tomaszowski brodzik - to tu wydarzyły się najważniejsze momenty mojej pływackiej kariery. Moja przyszła nauczyciela siedzi obok mnie.

Gdy wróciła i omiotła wzrokiem na taflę wody, już mnie nie było. Po chwili jej uwagę zwróciły nogi unoszące się na baczność, nad powierzchnią. Jak na dobrą matkę przystało, rozpoznała w nich moje. Z refleksem lepszym niż u ratownika, który niczego nie zauważył, rzuciła się mi, a właściwie moim stopom, na pomoc. Gdy upewniła się, że jeszcze oddycham, z popłochem wyrzuciła z siebie:

- Kasiu, co się stało?!?!

Lekkie niedotlenienie nie zbiło mnie z tropu i na pytanie mamy, z glutem wiszącym z nosa, duszącym kaszlem oraz stoickim spokojem, odpowiedziałam:

- Ubulgowałam się…

Następca rogala do pływania - materac z Myszką Miki

Ja przeżyłam, do wody się nie zraziłam, a zdanie weszło do rodzinnego kanonu złotych cytatów. Rogal do pływania jeszcze tego samego popołudnia wylądował w śmietniku, w kolejnych latach zastąpiony materacem z Myszką Miki czy kółkiem z Diabłem Tasmańskim. Nie wiem tylko jak to się stało, że mama pozwalała mi jeszcze wchodzić do wody.

I got bubbled!

Although my astrological element is air, since I remember, I have been associated with water. Unfortunately for my mother, we spent most of the holidays on various reservoirs, from pools, through the lagoons and lakes, to the sea, in which I spent 95% of the time planned for beach time. With breaks for fries, pee and ice cream. So she did not have an easy life and could not experience the pleasure of sunbathing, just like her friends, whose children were afraid of water, preferred to play in the sand, or thoughtfully could give themselves pleasure. Castles were cool for me, but only those with a moat, that had to be built close to the shore, and at the same time I was able to wet at least one leg. I've always volunteered to carry water to a meaningless mud hole, which in retrospect seems to be a beautiful metaphor for upcoming adulthood. My wandering often dragged me to check the water at the buttocks level and ended up in completely unplanned dive for a few minutes. I didn't lack enthusiasm on doing my job, I was just losing points on performance.

At first I let myself be tricked and made them sat me in the inflatable pool...

That is why my mother spent most of the time not on the towel, but standing at the edge of wet sand and like a cerber, was monitoring whether I was still floating on the surface of the water. Often, the beach time ended with the fight, when she had to pull me out of the water forcibly, because my face, due to the broadly known temperature of the Baltic Sea, turned into the color of a ripe bruise, but I still tried to convince her that I am not cold and insisted to stay in for a bit more.

Standing on arms, underwater flips and jumping on the waves absorbed me so much that compared to the time spent in water, I learned to swim relatively late. However lack of fear shortened the process to one afternoon at the Tomaszów open swimming pool. After a few attempts to float on the arms of just a little older friend, I just drifted away and that's how it stayed. Swimming by a miracle also saved me from not being classified form PE during the turbulent times of secondary school, when after 2.5 years of sick leave I got a basketball to the unfortunately folded hand and the word "Good luck!" thrown by a teacher not too involved in the development of sports losers. Additional PE classes at the pool raised my final grade to weak C and helped me achieve the ability to move underwater.

...but I quickly realized how much I was losing and all attempts to keep me on a sun lounger ended up with aat least a huge offence.

I was even tempted to say that swimming is my favorite sport. However, with age, immersing myself in cold water at the beginning and drying my hair at the very end kept me away from all pleasure. So in this category I must probably stay with solitaire and Mango TV (click and read).

This is not the end of my experience with water. Although I mastered swimming around the 10th birthday, I completed my first diving adventure before passing from nursery to kindergarten (click and read) and learning how to pronounce swimming styles correctly. And of course I'm not talking about the sophisticated courses on floating on the surface, which are now so in fashion among the target group of kiddos and their parents.

In the middle of the beach day, all my clothes were already soaked, so my mother had to borrow clothes from her friends' children.

The thing also happened in Tomaszów Lubelski, due to age and height, in the so-called paddling pool. On the occasion of the new summer season, the announcement of the hot summer in First Programme of Polish Radio and plans to go to her cousin, my mother prepared for me a special set, the most important element of which was inflatable crescent-shaped equipment. The first attempts at the pool were a failure, the croissant was too large and I fell out of it, so I tied the back with a ribbon. Everything seemed to be working.

The next day, she installed me in tuned equipment and checked if I was having fun. Satisfied with her invention, she talked to a group of friends.

Tomaszow’s paddling pool - this is where the most important moments of my swimming career happened. My future teacher sitting next to me.

When she looked back at the surface of the water, I was gone. After a moment, her attention was drawn to the legs rising above. As befits a good mother, she recognized mine in them. With reaction better than at the lifeguard, who didn't notice anything, she threw herself at my feet, actually to my feet. When she was sure I was still breathing, she burst out with panic:

- Kasia, what happened?!?!

Slight hypoxia did not confuse me, and with snot hanging from my nose, a suffocating cough and stoic calmness, I answered my mother:

- I got bubbled...

The successor to the swimming croissant - Mickey Mouse mattress

I survived, I was not discouraged by the water, and the sentence entered the family canon of golden quotes. The croissant for swimming landed in the trash can the same afternoon, in the following years replaced by a mattress with Mickey Mouse or a wheel with the Tasmanian Devil. I just don't know how it happened that my mother let me go into the water again!

#instakaminska #kasiacodzienna #lifewithkasia #childhood #memories #pool #swimming

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divorceyourring · 6 years

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Why I Need My School Mom Tribe · Divorced Moms

For me, single Mom survival wouldn’t be possible without my school Mom tribe.

It happened again last night.

I looked at the upcoming week and wondered how I would make it to Friday. Two nights of soccer practice. One night of gymnastics. Five nights of dinner to plan and make and clean up from.

Four nights of homework.

Five days of lunches to pack for three kids who won’t eat cafeteria food.

School picture forms to fill out and uniforms to iron.

Two class Halloween parties to coordinate. Not to mention that little thing that I do during the day called work.

The excitement of the first day of school has faded and the reality of the work-school-sports-homework juggle with three kids has set in. And when you are the only adult in the house like I am, it can also be the time of year when you are one missing cleat away from losing your mind in a way not even a Pumpkin Spice Latte can fix.

Most days, despite the odds, four of us are out the door to school drop-off and work on time. Lunches are in backpacks and permission slips are signed. I cook dinner and we get through soccer practice and gymnastics and bed time with only a few tears (mostly mine).

I have come a long way from that newly-divorced, mom of three-kids-under-five, who barely crawled into a laundry-free bed at night.

So how do we make it work, especially when I don’t have family nearby to help?

Some days, I have no idea. And other days, it doesn’t. But on the days that it does, it’s often thanks to a group of women in my life: my School Mom Tribe.

This is not the kind of group who does Girls’ Nights or brunches or weekends away together. They weren’t there when my kids were born or when my marriage fell apart. I don’t call them to vent when I’ve had a long day. My School Mom Tribe is the group who sends me a copy of the spelling words when I spill coffee on them the night before the test.

Who offers to carpool to the birthday party when I can’t be in two places at once. Who sends me pictures of my kids at school events and field trips when I have to work. Who texts to ask what I actually need for that classroom Halloween party instead of just sending in napkins.

If you’re picturing a group of parents standing around gossiping at drop off each day or a bunch of hovering, helicopter parents, think again. You won’t find us with perfect blow outs, wearing matching yoga pants, micro-managing our child’s every move and baking intricate afterschool snacks each day.

In fact, you’re more likely to see us dressed for work, dashing out of the school parking lot to make a 9:00 a.m. meeting. We are working parents. We are married and single and divorced and remarried. We live in big houses and small houses and apartments. We are different ages (though my daughter proudly informed me last week that she won a “who-has-the-oldest-mom contest” with her friends).

Some of us have only children and some of us have four. We send in delicious cookies from the grocery store and we send in Pinterest treats, too. But we have one important thing in common: our kids.

I didn’t always have a School Mom Tribe. When my daughter started kindergarten, I didn’t know any parents at her school. And I managed to keep it that way for the entire year. I didn’t talk to anyone at pick up; I didn’t volunteer or join the PTO.

I honestly can’t even remember sending anything in for class parties. It was the year I filed for divorce and there was no energy left to make new connections. Everything was just so hard.

When she started first grade, though, I decided it would be different. I didn’t have more time than I did the year before, but I needed to make connections. We needed to be more connected. We needed a school community.

So I showed up. I volunteered to be room parent, which led to emails with other parents, which to led chatting at drop off and pick up. Eventually, I started hosting movie nights and group activities at our small house on a Dollar Store budget. Everyone in the class was welcome (which, thankfully, was possible with a small class size). It gave the kids a chance to connect outside of school and the parents a way to get to know each other, too.

Slowly, a group started to form. We would visit at birthday parties or soccer games and text to set up play dates. Then, came the social media connections and glimpses into our lives outside of the school parking lot.

“Love M’s new haircut!”

“Aww… A was such a cute baby!”

By the time our kids were in second grade, a group message began and our safety net took shape.

“Hey, does anyone know if tomorrow is a dress down day?”

“Is the field trip form due this week?”

“What time does the costume parade start?”

My School Mom Tribe understands the juggle. They do the same balancing act that I do. They are trying to find a way to make it to the meeting at work and to the Color Run at school. They want to remember when the permission slips are due and when it’s Crazy Hair Day.

Knowing that there are other women whom I can rely on when life is overwhelming often means the difference between feeling like I’m not enough and feeling like I’ll make it to June in one piece.

Here’s the best part about our School Mom Tribe: it is open to anyone.

Your son goes to school here, too? You’re in.

Come sit next to me at the school concert.

You can’t be at the concert because you have to work? Don’t worry. I’ll text you a video.

We are in this together. The School Mom Tribe has my back and they are happy to have yours, too. If you want to see what women supporting women looks like, come sit with us.

Maybe you’re reading this and thinking, The parents at my school are too cliquey or judgey or unfriendly. Or I want to be part of a group, but I just don’t have time or energy to make this work. I know. I’m a working, single mom to three kids, including twin boys. I didn’t have the time or energy either. I am not naturally outgoing. And, yes, it can be intimidating to start a conversation with parents whom you don’t know well.

It took time and effort and energy, but trying to connect was worth it for me. And if you are wondering just how you will make it through another school year, it might be worth it for you, too.

What is there to lose by asking “How are you?” while waiting in the pick-up line. Or by sending a quick email to classroom parent offering cookies (the grocery store kind) for the holiday party. Or by following another parent’s business on Instagram and liking a post about her work.

It just takes one little step and before long, the small conversations could turn into longer chats at school functions. And then, one day, a parent might message you a picture of your child at the birthday party you missed because it wasn’t your weekend.

Slowly, you might feel less alone in the School Year Shuffle. And on the days when it feels like you don’t have enough hands, you will.

My School Mom Tribe has saved me more than once.

They have carpooled with me so that my daughter could be at a school rehearsal at the same time my boys had to be at a birthday party.

They have stayed when I’ve hosted drop-off parties to help me manage sugar-crazed kids and clean-up afterward.

They have texted me things like, “You’ve got this!” at precisely the moment where it doesn’t feel like I do. And we have sat together at more school functions than I can count, making things like freezing at a Friday night football game fun.

Is having a School Tribe the only way to make single-parenting work? Of course not. And if this is not for you, that’s fine.

But it is for me.

My School Mom Tribe is not a group of friends that likely would have formed in high school or college. We are as different as our children are.

We are friends because our children happened to be in the same class at school.

And I am grateful that we are.

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