#anyways let’s cancel betsy

[viscountessevie]

how you seen alergy wedding and lack of kathony ☠️☠️

Oh how I've missed asks but also need to reply to everyone from way back then. But baby steps we'll do this one tonight and I'll take on the old ones tomorrow!

Hi anon, thanks for the ask! Yeah so I was unwittingly following S3's production for a bit (thanks Twitter moots posting all over my TL). Honestly after a while, it just made me angry because my bar in hell about barely any Kathony in it and Allergy getting everything was turning out to be right. So I stopped paying attention for my sanity.

However, from a film graduate perspective and as someone who was trained as a producer, I will say it's VERY interesting for me to watch this car crash of a season production. Especially with them reshooting from the start - I may be wrong but this is the second time I've seen many scenes being filmed AGAIN when they were initially filmed months ago.

Sorry Anon I kind of got off track about how S3 is a money pit now and how there might not be an S4! Under the cut:

Anyways reshooting costs money, I mean we all can draw this conclusion. However with Bton's scale, each day is costing them AT LEAST an amount in the HIGH Thousands. So at this point, S3 is a money pit. It has definitely gone over budget and I will not be surprised if this eats into their S4 budget. Due to this, Netflix could potentially rescind S4's renewal.

The viewing numbers will be worse by the time the show rolls out. This is genuine biasness aside, numbers WILL drop because of Netflix's new password sharing rules. There will NO longer be the 80 million viewers/accounts by the time S3 comes out. Everyone is cancelling their accounts left and right. So the official numbers will dwindle and won't be up to the Bridgerton Standard - which is still more views than the usual shows but it may not be good enough for the Netflix executives.

Honestly after how Bton's production has shown itself to be completely unprofessional, it needs to die.

From the way they've treated their stars of colour (and it's telling how multiple cast members keep leaving), trash talking their characters of colour (see: The EPs like Tom Verica, Betsy Beers, Shonda talking about Kate and even Marina's writing) to showing blatant favouritism towards white leads while still championing itself as a "diverse ensemble show". And of course not to mention day drinking on set with heavy equipment (I have more to say on this but it's neither here nor there but feel free to ask in a follow up!)

If S4 is Philoise rumours are true, I do hope Netflix yanks back it's renewal. To be completely honest: no one else, other than the small group of yt fans, want to see two back to back white couples. The fact is most of the GA and a large portion of the fans within the fandom are people of colour who tuned in to see the diverse casting and characters of colour. The show was built on the promise of diversity. To have them negate on it now, is just very disappointing and not what a big portion of us signed up for.

Now with so many more other diversity shows (I'm BEGGING yall to go watch Mr. Malcolm's List, Sandition and these two recced by Michaela @minim236 : Tom Jones and The Confessions of Frannie Langton), people are obviously going to gravitate to these shows. Ones that are made with heart with good storytelling, treat their stars and characters with respect and are just fun to watch!

I am getting off the Bridgerton train and definitely won't be watching S3 (maybe a Kathony cut online).

I will say, if yall can let Kathony go slowly like I did, jump ship and explore other shows/books similar to Kathony because this show will continue punishing us for liking them. They do not care about what the viewers want at all which is a shame, because these are the people they are ultimately profiting off.

After expanding my HR book tastes and finding new shows like the ones listed above, I've found there is so so much out there. Feel free to hit me up for recs (I will warn you it's limited variety rn) and also you can scroll through @hptriviachamp and @mermaidsirennikita's blogs for HR recs as well shoot them, @jeanvanjer and Michaela (linked above) asks!

#Bridgerton #Bridgerton Production #The Viscountess Answers

[louislittleducktails]

just drove past your house. okay but do you like this tattoo??? i just drank 40 gallons of liquid. every gallon was a different type of drink. anyway so i ordered this off shien-STOP skakwjwjwjw anyway. i would let her peg me with a FORTY INCH STRAP!!! *sends me tiktok*

betsy stfu i stg😭

#you on fuckin crack??? #anyways let’s cancel betsy #betsy🖕 #🥰🥰

[dreamsfreckles]

[7:21p.m.] A Couple of Whipped Besties, One Could Say...

~

Sapnap x reader

Fluff

A couple of sus betsies - enjoy!

~

Sapnap smiled proudly at the beautiful view in front of him: you sitting in his gaming chair, beating the shit out of George on a minecraft PVP server.

Naturally, as Sapnap’s best friend, today marked your third night sleeping over at his house, the usual.

You two simply couldn’t get sick of each other.

Sure, he was annoying and relentless sometimes, and maybe you were a bit stubborn and moody; but regardless, both of your personalities clashed and complimented each other perfectly - creating a close friendship. 

Even though your friendship was his most precious treasure, Sapnap couldn’t help but be dissatisfied with it. 

Not because he wasn’t happy with you... but because he wasn’t happy with you. 

incase you need further elaboration:

Sapnap done went and caught feelings for you. (no earnings)

Leaning over your left shoulder as you gamed, Sapnap side-eyed your facial expressions as you passionately played on the computer monitor in front of you, flexing your weirdly amazing skill at PVP.

He admired you; you looked cute while concentrated. Critting George’s player with your diamond axe was Sapnap’s favorite sight to see. Your eyebrows furrowed the slightest bit and your eyes shined as you attempted to predict George’s next move. 

Not to mention you were also hot as fuck. Sapnap didn’t need to admit that though...

Not only were you his cute best friend, but you were also a super skilled player. He seemed to get the best of both worlds when it came to you.

You can be risky, fun, daring and stupid, but at the same time smart, soft, sweet, and safe. It’s rare to have someone as unique and different as you. You were irreplaceable. 

It also just makes things 1000x better when you’re the reason George regrets his entire PVP career.

Sapnap leaned back into his spare chair, laughing in disbelief at you mercilessly owning George in the game. He could hear George’s screams of absolute terror leaking from the headset on your head; his headset. (dollar tree)

Goddamn he’s whipped. (what a shrimp)

The headphones were a little big on you, which added to the cuteness. Sapnap secretly peered at you love-sickly, sighing in content. It was rare for him to be completely in a haze by you simply doing nothing; for some reason you had him completely under your control today.

Your sudden yell broke Sapnap from his trance and brought his attention to the monitor showing the signature “victory” screen. You squealed hopping up from your chair and doing a small victory dance, laughing at George as he wallowed in defeat. You turn to Sapnap, a wide smile on your face. “Were you watching that? George is SHIT!” You laughed. Sapnap shook his head in disbelief. “Have you been practicing? I have to get you to duel Dream... I doubt you could beat him though. Gogy is just trash.” You giggled with Sapnap at his open criticism towards George, while the trash PVP player on the call scoffed and mumbled incoherent curse words. (ignoring the fact Sapnap lowkey called you trash)

“Well,” you start, relaxing back into his gaming chair. “I’m kind of hungry now. Do you want to go get Chick-fil-a or something?” Just before Sapnap could respond, he was rudely interrupted by George screaming on his headset. “YOU’RE GOING TO GET CHICK-FIL-A?!” The headphones rung. “Are you trying to get cancelled Sapnap?” George joked, making literally no one laugh. You glanced at Sapnap in amusement. His face is twisted in playful annoyance as he ends the call with George. “I guess George is right... Don’t want our precious Sappy getting cancelled.” Sapnap scoffs and rolls his eyes at you playing along with George, a smile on his face. You smirk evilly, standing up to walk across his room to grab your purse. “Whelp, looks like you gotta get your own fast food.” You sling your purse over your shoulder and start heading towards his bedroom door.

Sapnap’s eyes widen at your statement. There’s no way he’s letting you go along with George’s stupid-ass joke.

Before you could leave, Sapnap scrambled to wedge himself between you and his door, stopping you from exiting the room. “Um? You’re dog water if you think you’re pulling that bullshit on me?” He sasses, backing you away from his door.

You hold in your laugh and shrug, putting up a serious face. “We should probably have a break from each other anyway... Why don’t you go out and get McDonald’s instead? I’ll be back in like,” you check your phone for affect. “Like 45 minutes.” You state, looking back up to his pretty eyes filled with betrayal.

Sapnap is frozen. He didn’t think that this Chick-fil-a joke would actually be taken some-what seriously. You wanted time away from him? What the fuck? You two have always been clingy to each other! You can barely go to his fucking kitchen by yourself! 

He took a second longer looking into your shining eyes. Then it all clicked.

You little rat. How cruel are you to be playing with his little heart like that?

Sapnap could turn this situation around in a few different ways.

1.) He could call out your cap right now and you two would go out and get your chick-fil-a, or whatever you want to eat.

2.) He could football tackle you to the fucking ground and make you apologize for saying such buffoonery.

3.) He could go along with your cruel joke, and make you think that he 100% agrees that you two “need to take a break.” He can even go as far as calling it a night and telling you that he’s too tired for another sleepover night.

Sapnap was never the merciful type. As much as he is unconditionally in love with you, he don’t play. 

Option 3 was game.

Sapnap looked up and to the side, pretending to think about your suggestion of “taking a break” like it was a valid choice. Stepping away from his place in between you and the door, Sapnap motions for you to go. “You know what, you’re kinda right. You can go ahead, I think I’m going to call someone.” Sapnap whips out his phone from his back jean pocket and turns away from you, pretending to scroll through his contacts.

This makes you stumble for a second. Did he just... agree with you..? Your heart stops beating for a split second and you debate if you should tell him that you were joking or not. You can barely go to the kitchen by yourself, why isn’t he catching on that it was a joke? You stand still there, looking at his turned back. “Okay... I’m just going to go then.” You say, still not making a move to leave. After a moment of him not acknowledging a word you just said, you start again. “Do you like...” you pause. “want me to bring you back something...” Sapnap turns back to you at that, suddenly deciding to pay attention to you. “Uh no thanks, I’ll just eat something here. You should probably call your mom, she probably wants you home. You’ve been here for what-” he checks his phone for the date. “Like 4 days?” He states, looking back up to you.

Your mouth drops. Hurt fills you heart. Did he really just say that?

Yeah... you have been at his house for a while... but you didn’t think that he was getting sick of you. You usually stayed over there for 4 nights on average before you went home.

You’ve stayed there for 6 days before! And you both STILL mourned the loss of each other’s presence when you left!

(Isn’t this simp culture?)

What does this mean? You stand there is silence just looking at him. It’s not like you could argue; you were the one who said you needed a break first.

You felt like crying. Yes... Sapnap is your best friend and this literally isn’t that big of a deal, but... you love Sapnap. You’d spend forever with him if you could. And you thought he would too. You stiffen for a moment. You know he isn’t your boyfriend; as much as you wish he was, you need to stop acting like he is. 

Him saying he wants to be alone shouldn’t be that big of a deal to you! You guys are friends! He’s standing there, looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to go on, do anything.

While you stand there debating your life choices with hurt written all over your face, Sapnap’s mind is racing a million miles an hour. He literally can’t decide if he should burst out laughing from how well his plan worked or hug you and say sorry for being so mean.

He literally can’t decide - so he does both.

Just as you feel your eyes getting the tinniest bit glassy, Sapnap roars with laughter and pulls you into a bear hug, squeezing your waist with one arm and using the other to pet your hair fondly. “I’m so sorry, I had to, it was too good, that literally couldn’t have gone better-” he rambles. You immediately sulk and smack his shoulder, aggressively hugging him back. “YOU ASSHOLE I GOT SO SCARED!” You groan in embarrassment. You literally almost cried.

Sapnap giggles and hugs you tighter, his smile couldn’t possibly get wider. You sigh in relief, snuggling into his arms. “You actually scared me so bad. That was so weird.” Sapnap laughs again, leaning back from you slightly to get a look at your pretty face. You were pouting. Cute. Sapnap smirked and squeezed your cheek with the hand that was previously petting your semi-tangled hair. “You did it to me first you dimwit, what the hell did you think I felt like?!” He exclaimed. “You literally told me to go home you asshole!” You exasperated. Sapnap threw his head back laughing, pulling you back towards him again. He nuzzled into the side of your neck, sighing happily.

As hilarious as it was watching you go through the 5 stages of grief over this situation, it was also heart breaking all at the same time. He hopes he never has to see that again on a serious note, if he’s being honest. If you ever looked like that when you guys were being legit - it would quite literally kill him.

After what felt like 20 minutes of hugging, you pulled back from the hug and looked up at Sapnap, his arms still attached to the ends of your sweatshirt, keeping you in place. 

As he stared down at your pink cheeks and flustered expression, he felt like he could stand with you here for hours. He wishes he could kiss you.

You rolled your eyes at him as he giggled. “Whatever.” You state, walking out of his hold and over to his bed side table. Sapnap watches your movements in confusion. Once at the table, you open the top drawer and snatch his wallet from inside, your back facing him. “I’m getting fucking Chick-fil-a and if you don’t come, I’m literally going to buy the entire menu with this.” You turn facing him and hold up his wallet. Sapnap’s eyes widen in realization at what’s in your possession. He makes a move to run over to you and snatch it back. Unluckily for him, you were already bolting out the door and to his car.

Hello 🥺

I hope u enjoyed sorry it took so long hehee

I’ve had lack of motivation, as we all in this tough pandemic - I hope you guys are all doing well and stay happy and safe 💕

Thankfully we have our fav mcyt gang to help us through tough times :)

Ik sapnap says fuck you, but think of it in an endearing way LOL LOVE U GUYS

#This explains why it’s so controversial to eat (or even mention) Chick-fil-a. #sapnap #sapnap imagine #nick sapnap #Dream Team #dream team fluff #dream team scenarios #sapnap fluff #sapnap scenarios #sapnap blurbs #sapnap dream team #mcyt #myct fanfiction #mcyt imagine #sapnap fanfic #dream team imagines #georgenotfound #dream #dreamwastaken #badboyhalo #sapnap x reader #dream smp #mcyt x reader #karl jacobs #minecraft youtubers #block men #sapnapxreader

[thesparrow1996]

for the comics ask game: 1, 8, and dealer's choice.

1. how has dc/marvel wronged you, specifically?

when marvel decided they should reboot the xmen by giving them to the big ideas sci fi guy who tells complete stories and then didn’t let him tell the complete story and shot his legs out from under him every step of the way anyways that was targeted against me.

also when the infamous mcu synergy refuses to work in my favor again and again?? where was my loki book when the disney+ show was on? my wanda book? my hawkeye book? hello?

8. what hero doesn’t deserve their hype

this is a common answer i feel but honestly i am just not a wolverine guy he does not do it for me especially when he’s solo

22. if you could cancel one comic book that’s running right now, what would it be?

dealer’s choice >:) i’m preemptively canceling knights of x and giving betsy to someone else who can do some intense damage control.

#ask #e.txt

[kurtty-drabbles]

(nsfw prompt) 7. “I could just pull your bikini bottoms to the side, no one would notice” 👀👀👀

N/A: EVO setting. Uhm, Emma was supposed to show up in season 5 but she will never show up because, well, the show was canceled. Anyway, Emma and Betsy are adults here -no cougar for Scott this time- and are a thing as well rich bitches.

@tieflingteeth @dannybagpipesarecalling @muninandhugin

Buy me kofi

Kitty´s bikini

Swirling around in front of the mirror is not providing any new results. The woman bites her lips as she stares at her own reflection once more-her hands clap her breast as she tries to maneuver in a more favorable position for the bikini, however, the result is the same- as now her reflection shows her shoulder fell and she puffed a lock of hair out of her face.

"Damn, I wish my tits are bigger" she complains now pouting and twisting her lips to the right side in a comical way. "I mean, it barely fills I have..." shaking her head. She tries again. "No, no, let´s no go-to self-depreciative route. I´ve got pretty nice tits. My bikini looks cute and I can rock this look"

Inhale and exhale, Kitty Pryde tries again. "I look cute. Emma Frost is a bitch and I can destroy her" now, a smirk adorns her rounded face. "Yep, feels right now"

Someone knocks on the door. Rogue is sporting a black bikini and a total gothic look- there´s a joke about hydrate your gothic friend, Kitty is mulling over about that, can she make the same joke again?- and resting her back on the wall of their jointed room.

"KittyCat! Are you ready?" Rogue asked knowingly. "Emma and Betsy will be there and well, Ah sure the two want to make the beach day a real blast...rich folks like them often do" Rogue shurgs nonchalantly.

Kitty bites her lips. "Yeah, you think I look good?"

Rogue gave an apprehension look. "You look fine as a Cat" and smirks at the lame pun. Kitty is not impressed. "Plus, my brother would adore you whatever you wear so...you got this cut short" Rogue states in a tenderly way.

Kitty nods sagely. "The same way Scott will love your bikini even if he never read Edgar Allan Poe"

Rogue blushes and leaves. Their relationship was never a secret. Jean, to everyone´s surprise, is taking this really well. No crazy ex-girlfriend so far.

Emma Frost gets under Kitty´s skin in a way no one managed yet. Kitty often thinks in phase her heart out and leave to rot- Kitty then ponders her own moralities in question- since the old woman is notorious for bullying Kitty.

(One attempted murder that the woman swear it was an accident via mind-control NEVER was forgiven nor believed by Kitty)

Emma is dating Betsy Braddock. Now, how someone as cool as Betsy fall for Emma is a mystery Kitty is unsure if she wants to solve, however, this is a beach day and the couple will be more focused on each other than on whatever Kitty is doing.

(She hopes so)

Jean is for once too silent as she´s gazing at Scott and Rogue being a couple. The beach day is relaxing and no one makes any comment about Kitty´s bikini. She looks down.

(Is it better to be ignored or people say you have small tits?)

She sits on a beach chair. Passing sunscreen on her skin when Kurt bamf away- the boy was talking with the other boys. The mutants received some positive shift in the media, but, racism doesn´t end just because someone on the TV says 'mutants are cool'- sitting next to Kitty and making quips about sand.

"Is rough, coarse, and gets everywhere" Kurt said in a moody tone.

"Hi, Anakin, please, don´t murder kids...this time" Kurt sighs dramatically then breaks off with a big grin. "So, how the beach day hosted by Emma and Betsy going so far?"

"I still hate Emma, but, is not bad" Kitty declared rolling her eyes. "But...why they have a yacht here?"

Kurt is watching Kitty. Studying the form of her bikini, of her body before finally answering. "uhm, I think Emma wants to take us on a cruise, she mentioned something about Barcelona, but, uhm...I didn´t pay attention to the rest" Kurt offers an apologetic smile.

Kitty shakes her head. "Typical..."

Suddenly, Emma let a big scream escape her blue lips- painted by some famous brand. Emma is a person of brands- and some nasty words can be heard. Nasty words that Logan himself is impressed by it.

The reason? The yacht is on fire, literally. Betsy is offering her assistance to solve the problem and even regular-Joe can see the problem is severe. The engine is on fire, again, literally.

Kurt never stops gazing at Kitty. Is not subtle anymore.

"Elf?"

"Have I mentioned how you look with your bikini?"

"Not really?" tries to play coy. Kitty fails not it matters.

"You look so delicious..." his grin is a bit impish. “I could just pull your bikini bottoms to the side, no one would notice”

Kitty´s eyes widen then her mind reels back and forth. Biting her lips she asked. "What about them?" her eyes goes to the adults trying to control the fire on the Yacht.

"They won´t notice" his grin promises anything.

Their chairs are together now. Kitty is not as much of a prude as some like to believe, however, she´s not keen on public sex ...yet. Kurt´s hand open one part of her bikini and notices her pink nipples. Kurt licks her lips.

Is bold of him to lick and even bite said nipple, no one is paying attention to them. The motor is making another sound- Emma cursed loudly again- and no one is paying attention to Kitty´s stiffing a moan.

People did notice when Jean arrives and punches Scott in the face. People did notice when Jean turns out to be Mystique and tries to steal Rogue away.

Kurt and Kitty didn´t saw Rogue beat up Mystique and helping a nosebleed Scott to stand up-his glasses are still on- who is completely unfazed by everything.

Kurt and Kitty were busy with each other.

[broughttoyouby]

    The morning after was riddled with pain and confusion–Wes had nearly forgotten how he’d arrived in this shithole of an apartment until he remembered the beating he took in the streets, and then the rescue from a beautiful guy. Straight gorgeous.

    Oh, right. And then they totally banged on the couch. That was always a great way to spend your time after having your shit kicked in. The Weasel sucked in breath through his teeth, trying to get himself up and moving despite his injuries–might pop two more of those pills to keep himself spry until he got back home… There’s a note on the table, from Minx. Something about him sending the suit when it’s ready, but for now to just take the clothes he left out for him, and a recommendation to go to the hospital.

    Cute. Wes had no intention of going to the hospital though–he hated sharing a ward with anyone, and since he had the money for it, he’d just get a homecare doctor to come and visit. Whistling to himself after taking his medicine, the Weasel gathered up the stuff that wasn’t soaking wet and got dressed in a pair of grey sweatpants and matching sweatshirt, and after that he left the place. Maybe there was a key for locking up, but Wes didn’t see it or care much.

    Did he have fun last night?‌ Sure!‌ Minx seems like a pretty swell guy. Real cute, too…. but Wes didn’t really care about people so much. He knew too many, and all of them wanted something from him----the attention was grand. Forming close bonds was never really a strongsuit of his, however, and with the way things were in Empire City, you just couldn’t afford to get too attached.

    The next few days were about the norm–his show was unfortunately off the air for a couple days due to his injuries, so re-runs were being broadcast in its stead. Wes had a homecare doctor, as intended, checking up on him and scolding him for drinking while on painkillers. Whatever. At least he wasn’t snorting cocaine right now, give him a break doc.

    Betsy had to be shut off for a few days, too, so that Wes could stop thinking about all his appointments–the lack of action was a fate worse than death. All he wanted was to head over to Club Malt and do some shots with Sally. Oh well.

    Once he was back to work, it was business as usual–two weeks in, and Wes was already back on stage being his usual self, though not quite dancing as much as he used to. People knew he’d suffered an injury, he didn’t hide that fact. He wasn’t going to let the Rosettes win–he might have been scared of them, but he was low key scared of everyone, so it kind of canceled itself out. He didn’t really think of his savior much… except when it rained.

    When it rained, he had the distinct smell of fur and sweat enter his nostrils, even when there wasn’t a soul around. He thought about the banging on the walls, and the creaking of the springs–it was raining that day, too. Wes tapped his pen against his desk, barely listening to Jensen ramble on about their script for the day. His mind was distracted, thinking about that pine marten. Wes barely ever thought about his flings, he was a bit of a swinger anyway. He started his radio show for the day, he made his jokes and ran his monologue. It was the weekend, so no TV‌ appearances, just the radio show would do. No live audience, which meant he could sit as poorly as he wanted and even his doctor wouldn’t know. …and then he heard a peculiar sound. Like muffled shouting?

    As they say, when it rains, it pours.

@twotiminx​

#suggestive cw #alcoholism cw #smoking cw #drugs mention #drugs cw #why don't you do right? (para) #(closed) #(thread) #minx (twotiminx) #fear and delight (wes and minx)

[jacquelineshyde]

Sex and the City but instead of four girls is Jackie, Fez and Donna XD

LMAO, make it four with Brooke because I love writing her (and Kelso). Now, do you realize this is about the movie, right? The one when Mr. Big left Carrie at the altar? That one. Prepare for angst and suffering.

After years of struggling and dating some other asses, Jackie has finally got her happy day to day with Hyde, her own and only Mr. Big, who never wanted something serious until things just turned that way between him and Jackie.

Living together and enjoying life together is one of the best things he has done at the moment. Is amazing how their lives just collided with her best friend, Donna, marrying his best friend, Eric; how the four of them also ended being friends with her ex, that then married one of her best friends and now have a kid, and Fez turned out to be a great dude to spend time with. All is fine, settle, he never thought he would be this happy in a relationship and sure that he wants her forever in his life.

So when she brings the marriage theme, he is ready to say he wants that too. She is surpised but doesn’t act on it, only smiles and waits for him to do the next step. They start planning a simple wedding with only their friends, and no party or big dresses or any of that. She already has idea of what to wear for it, and while her friends aren’t as happy as her, they respect that she has changed her mind about having a big white wedding.

This is Steven, alright, Mr. Big.

It costed them enogh to be together to now ruin it with her desires of cliché romance and whatnot. Yet, slowly, he starts letting her do whatever circus she wants of that wedding. By the time the media knows Jackie Burkhart, everyone’s favorite fashion and make up blogger, co-creator of the blog and now magazine, ‘Sex and the City’, is finally getting married, she gets invited by Vougue to pose in their bride’s edition.

Of course she has to be there! And Hyde seems a little uncomfortable with how big things are getting and how he can’t bring himself to just stop her for a second and ask what is going on, why suddenly he isn’t allowed to say his opinion on things and when did this become only about her desires? He understands, this is every woman’s especial day, but is also his. Yet, he stays quiet and tries to just be happy is happening and his girl is this happy.

Meanwhile, tragedy comes to The Formans’ home. Eric and Donna’s sexual life is in crisis and with Donna working hard and all the damn time, Eric is starting to feel inadequate there. They have a little kid, and he basically takes care of him by himself since Donna’s boss is a bitch and she ony has time to work, work, work. 

On a drunken night, he almost makes a mistake and when he tries to tell Donna, she interpretates it as she wants and doesn’t believe in his words when he explains it didn’t happen, but he did flirt with the girl and made out with her.

Hurt, she decides that they need time as he apologizes in all the ways he can find. When she takes this in her hands and doesn’t listen to him, Eric gets furious and decides he has had enough, making the sepration not a simple break, but an actual attempt to get a divorce. 

Hyde and Kelso get to calm him down a little, but they remind separated as the wedding gets closer and closer.

Fez, on the other hand, has had a relationship with the same guy for years. He is still our pervy guy, he still looks and does bad comments, but his boy loves him anyway. Yet, lately, he has felt like if something is missing in his life and when a hot neighbor moves to the house nex to theirs, he discovers that he isn’t happy anymore in a relationship but can’t admit it. Not to him, not to the girls, not to anyone.

He will try to mantain his relationship the best he can. Because he does loves this guy, is just… maybe he isn’t made to be in long relationships, maybe it’s time for other things too.

By the time reharsal party is here, Donna is over the edge with her marriage situation and needs a break. Hyde ends up trying to reach her but she snaps back, “Why are you getting married!? It’s the biggest mistake of your life!” and damn. 

She seriously needs a break, and Hyde needs to talk to Jackie. They are sleeping in different places for the night, and when he calls to say goodnight and tries to talk to her, she’s too blind by her extremadely big and public wedding to notice Hyde’s attempt at real talking.

Next morning, The Kelso’s home is a mess with the girls getting ready and Betsy running from side to side since her dad is at Hyde’s with the boys. Fez cames to style everyone and Jackie leaves her phone forgotten somewhere when Betsy picks it and shoves it into her purse. Once everyone is ready, and the boys had called to say they are also ready, they go to the wedding.

When Jackie and her friends arrive, Fez is there looking pale and ill. 

Jackie doesn’t need to listen to him to know what is going on, she asks for her phone before he can tell them that Hyde hasn’t arrived. In short, he doesn’t show up and she needs to leave this fucking place before she burst into hysterical crying.

They find Jackie’s phone and the million calls Hyde did before the mess and after the scene in the street (you know the one), but it doesn’t matter anymore. She is a mess, she can’t believe this happened after all they’ve been throught. 

None of the boys also know what to say or to do, and Eric gets out of everyting and tries to see what the hell with Hyde. Fez tries to cancel the honey moon, but seeing is imposible, he decides to buy tickets for the girls and go with them into said travel.

With Kelso staying home with Betsy and Eric with Hyde and Eric’s kid, they leave.

#zenmasters #hyde and jackie #hyde x jackie #that 70s show #nini got mail #au tag #my aus #hj aus #ed aus #kb aus #otp: anything for you doll #mine #Anonymous #otp: baby buuurn! #eric x donna

[fuzzballsheltiepants]

Back to the Start, part 8

All For the Game/The Foxhole Court, post-canon.  Memories keep coming back, and Neil can’t really be...real, can he?  And Katelyn’s kind of awesome.  Read it on AO3 if you choose.  Read Part 1.  Part 2.  Part 3.  Part 4.   Part 5.  Part 6.  Part 7.  Likes, comments, and reblogs really appreciated!

After Aaron and Katelyn left for the night, Neil found he couldn’t settle.  Andrew was out cold.  He pulled out his phone and stared at the black screen for a while; he felt a strong urge to see what the internet trolls were saying but knew it would only piss him off.  

Aaron had confirmed Neil’s suspicion.  Neil tried not to resent that Andrew would talk to Aaron and not to him; it wasn’t Aaron’s fault, or Andrew’s for that matter.  Or his.

He wandered down the hall to the deserted waiting area. The nurse at the desk gave him a quick smile then returned to his computer.  Neil clicked on his phone and pulled up his contact list.  Betsy Dobson was the first of the Bs.  It was just after nine; he thought she would still be up.  

She picked up on the second ring.  “Betsy, it’s Neil.”

“Neil!  This is an unexpected pleasure.”

“I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

“Not at all, I was just having a cup of tea and reading a rather terrible novel.”  

Neil picked at a threadbare seam on the corner of the couch he had flopped down on and tried to think of what to say.  He didn’t really know what he expected Betsy to do from South Carolina.

“Neil?”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have bothered you.”

“Don’t hang up, Neil.  I’m guessing you’re calling because of something with Andrew.”

Neil pressed the fingers of his free hand into his eyes.  “He remembered Drake.”

There was a short pause.  “I’m sure that was very difficult for both of you.”

“What do you know about his…situation?”

“Just what David shared with me and what was on the news.”

“He doesn’t remember much of the past few years,” Neil gritted out.  “He doesn’t really remember me.”

The pause was longer this time.  “What do the doctors say?”

“They say he’s doing well.  They say this is ‘normal’ for this type of injury.”  He laughed without humor.  “I’m starting to understand why Andrew has grudges against certain words.”

“But you said he’s recovering memories.”

“Some, yeah.  Mostly the terrible ones, as far as I can tell.”

“Or perhaps those are the ones he can’t help but show.”  

Neil digested that.  “I just don’t understand how this works.  How can he remember Baltimore, but not really remember who I am?  I mean, he knows my name, he remembers hitting me with that racquet, but I’m not sure he remembers me.  Do you know what I mean?”

“I do.  Have you asked him?”

“No.”  

“Why not?”  

He could hear that she knew his answer in her tone.  Instead he asked, “Can’t you help him with recovering his memory?”

“Not really, no,” she said gently.  “I can help him process what he knows, and that may help in turn, but really it’s up to his brain.  On the plus side, we know what a formidable one he has.”

“I’m still not sure what’s going to happen when he’s released, anyway.  If he’s going to come back down with me or not.”

“Don’t forget that he has an excellent therapist there in Boston.  Depending on how long he’s hospitalized, and what the next step is, Dr. Isaac may be a better option.  Have you contacted him?”

“No,” Neil said, feeling like an idiot for the thousandth time that week.  “I don’t know how to.”

“I imagine his number is in Andrew’s phone.”  Right.  The phone still sitting in the stadium with all of his other stuff.  Neil wondered how he had forgotten about that.  

“How are you doing, Neil?  Not you-and-Andrew, but you.”  When he didn’t answer she added, “There’s a reason you called me rather than talking to his doctors.”

He just wanted everything back to the way it was.  A week ago he had been wrapped up with Andrew in their bed savoring the last of his break.  Just a week ago.  “I’m fine.”

She sighed.  “All right, is there anything else I can help you with?”

“No.”

“In that case, get some sleep.  Good night, Neil.”

He thought he thanked her before hanging up.  He hoped he had.  Pulling his fingers away from the loose threads on the couch, he dragged himself back to the room.

*****

The click of a door registered through the haze of sleep and Andrew snapped awake.  The room was oddly lit.  He blinked.  It wasn’t his room.  He blinked again.  There was an empty chair next to his bed and a window in the door.  He dragged himself out of the nightmare - or was it a memory?  Not that there was much of a difference.  All his nightmares were really memories.  

A few more blinks and he was back in the present.  He could hear subtle movement in the room then Neil appeared in his line of vision, furtively preparing for sleep.  Neil lowered himself slowly into the chair, then froze when he saw Andrew’s eyes on him.  “Sorry,” he whispered.  “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“How long was I out for?”

“Just a couple hours.  You can go back to sleep, I’m done making noise.”

But for once Andrew wasn’t sleepy.  Judging by the way Neil held his eyes once he was settled into the chair, neither was he.  “What.”

Neil blinked at him in confusion.  “What?”

“You’re staring.”

“I’m always staring.”

“Yeah but now you’re staring with a purpose.”

Neil looked away, fiddling with his hands.  “I hate this,” he said finally.  Andrew waited.  “I hate that you only remember the bad stuff.”

Andrew didn’t know how to respond to that.  Didn’t know how to tell him that he remembered other things - remembered bits and pieces of meals and drives and games and shared cigarettes on the roof, the weight of Neil’s mouth on his own and the feel of his skin, the sound of his hitches of breath.  Because none of that felt real.  None of that felt possible, despite the obvious evidence of it sitting curled up in a ball in the chair next to him.  

“Go to sleep, junkie,” he said, not totally sure where the nickname came from, and Neil’s eyes snapped back to his.  “It’s not all I remember.”  

The smile he received in reply was ridiculous, and he ignored it as he settled back in, tugging the blankets tighter around himself.  Just as he ignored Neil’s hand coming to rest on the edge of his bed, as it somehow always seemed to.  And if he woke up the next morning to find their finger tips slightly interlaced, he didn’t comment on it and neither did Neil.

The atmosphere in the hospital was different that day.  It seemed like suddenly everything that had been in slow-motion was at full speed.  He got wheeled off for another MRI first thing, and this time the noise-canceling headphones were enough that he didn’t need to vomit afterwards.  The lights were brighter and he walked for longer and they even let him have a magazine.  Neil disappeared to work out, with a laughing promise to try not to assault any reporters.  

Aaron and his girlfriend appeared just as Neil returned bearing a chocolate-filled croissant that he handed to Andrew without ceremony.  The girlfriend greeted Neil with a hug and handed him a bag full of stuff, and Andrew understood why Neil had warned him he wasn’t allowed to kill her.  Especially when she pecked Neil on the cheek when he took the bag.  Andrew glanced at Aaron, who rewarded him with an eye roll.  

The girlfriend chattered about New York and the stresses of anatomy lab while Neil showered.  Andrew wanted to tune her out but there was little else to hold his attention.  Though watching Aaron… Most of what Andrew remembered of Aaron was from before.  This was interesting, to say the least.

Then Neil came out of the bathroom and Andrew decided maybe he didn’t hate the girlfriend after all.   Not if she’d picked out those clothes.  Fuck.  He really didn’t know what was wrong with him.  Well, besides the whole skull-fracture-traumatic-brain-injury thing.  The doctors hadn’t mentioned this as a potential symptom.  Then again, given what memories his brain was dredging up, perhaps it was some pre-existing condition.  A manifestation of the bipolar, or something.  Because want was normal.  Want was biological.  He understood want, had since juvie.  But this was more like need.  And need was irrational.  Need was dangerous.  Need had led to the lines marring his forearms, to him breaking into houses and shops until he had finally been caught, to whatever had been left of his heart being destroyed.  

Aaron and the girlfriend were wedged into the chair together.  Neil stood near the foot of the bed, listening to the inane conversation as if it were important.  Andrew studied the long-healed scars on his face.  Abruptly, not caring about whatever nonsense he was interrupting, he asked, “How long ago did that happen?”  He gestured to his own face.  

The girlfriend made a remonstrative noise but Neil answered easily, “Almost four years ago.”  He gave Andrew a questioning look but Andrew just hummed in reply and Neil turned back to the girlfriend and asked a question, setting her off again.

Four years.  Four years since Andrew had been nearly torn apart by terror.  Four years since he had felt that anguished need that seemed so fresh in his memory.  And yet Neil was still here.

*****

Dr. Martin appeared with someone Neil believed to be an intern before Katelyn had petered out, so he didn’t get a chance to ask Andrew about getting his stuff from the stadium.  Her arrival essentially shoved Neil off to the side.  Andrew’s eyes followed him as found a new spot near the window.  Dr. Martin introduced herself to Aaron and Katelyn and reviewed all the medical stuff Neil already had heard.  They finished up with this morning’s scans, which showed resolution of the hematoma.

“It’s time to discuss the next steps in Andrew’s care,” Dr. Martin said.  Neil tried not to bristle at the way they focused all their attention on Aaron and spoke about Andrew like he wasn’t there.  “While he could be ready for discharge as soon as tomorrow, he will need ongoing assistance until he can manage on his own.  Now, it’s our understanding he lives alone here in Boston.”

“Yes,” Aaron said, and Neil’s fingers twitched.  He didn’t understand this shift in the dynamic.  He glanced at Andrew, whose eyes had a faint gleam that could have been amusement or irritation.  Likely both.

“Ideally, Andrew should go into a rehabilitation facility for a few weeks while we assess how well he can live on his own.”

“No,” Neil said, and everyone looked at him in surprise.  Everyone but Andrew, whose gleam intensified.  “He’s not going to some facility to have strangers looking after him.”

“I assure you, it’s a very good facility,” Dr. Martin said.

“No,” Neil said again.

“Neil,” Aaron warned.

“Easthaven was supposed to be a very good facility too, Aaron, in case you’ve forgotten.”  Aaron blanched and Andrew’s face went completely blank.  Neil wanted to kick himself but he plowed on.  “Andrew, I told you before.  You can come back to PSU with me if you want.  Otherwise, we can find another solution for you to stay here.”

“With all due respect, Mr. Josten,” Dr. Martin said, “you have no input into this.”

The ground dropped from beneath Neil’s feet.  “What?”

“You have no legal say.  You’re not married and you have no legal domestic partnership.  We have been making an exception for you, allowing you to stay here, but this is not your decision.”

“Is it not Andrew’s either?”  He turned to Andrew.  “Because as far as I can tell they don’t seem to care about your opinion.”

“Mr. Josten.”  Dr. Martin’s voice was calm, sympathetic, but firm.  “Aaron is Andrew’s legal next of kin.  They will decide the next steps together with us.  We must ask you to respect this conversation.”

“I can’t believe this.”  Neil thought he was going to vomit.  He looked between the twins.  Aaron’s expression was wary; Andrew’s held just a hint of black anger, and Neil didn’t know who that was directed at.  “We have resources in South Carolina.  We have Abby and Betsy, and the medical center’s right there.  Surely that’s better than staying with people you don’t know.”

“Mr. Josten, I’m going to ask you to leave.”

Katelyn stood and put her hand on Neil’s arm.  “I shouldn’t be here either,” she said gently.  “Come on, Neil.  We can wait down the hall.”  He looked once more to Andrew, but he made no move to ask him to stay, so Neil let Katelyn guide him away.

Out in the waiting room he couldn’t settle, couldn’t sit.  He felt that urge to run that had long been dormant but would never truly die.  Katelyn was quiet, for once; she had murmured apologies the whole way down the hall, then fallen silent as soon as she dropped onto one of the couches.  It was the one with the threadbare corner, Neil noticed idly.  He hooked his hands behind his neck but it wasn’t the same as Andrew’s grip, it held no gravity for him.

“Neil,” Katelyn said gently.  “Come and sit.”  He shook his head and walked the length of the room, noting the handful of other people scattered over seats.  One woman held a string of beads with a cross at the end, her lips moving silently.  A man wept over in one corner and Neil wondered in what way his world had just ended.  Two older people clutched each other’s hands and stared at the floor.  He turned and walked back.  

Katelyn joined him when he reached her.  “They shouldn’t have done that,” she whispered and there were tears in her eye.  Neil wondered why.  “Maybe we shouldn’t have come.  If we’d known…”

“I’m going to go for a walk,” Neil said.  

“Don’t,” Katelyn pleaded.  “Don’t go, Andrew will want you here when they’re done.”

Neil gave what might’ve passed for a laugh.  “Do you think if Andrew cared he would’ve let them kick me out in the first place?”  Katelyn shrugged helplessly.  “It’s not the same.  He doesn’t remember.”

“I don’t know, Neil.  I’ve never understood what motivates him.  All I know is whatever he remembers, he looks at you the same way.”

“What way is that?”

“I don’t know…like the world begins with you.”  Neil turned away to pace again and she sighed.  “Do you have your phone?”  He reflexively checked his pockets and nodded when he felt it.  “I’ll text when they’re done.”  He nodded again and shoved through the door, running before he even reached the stairs.

#aftg #tfc #all for the game #the foxhole court #neil josten #andrew minyard #andriel #amnesia #hospital #recovery #fluff and angst #my writing #fanfic #past trauma #aaron minyard #katelyn #betsy dobson

[tatooedlaura-blog]

Graying Skies

the series read as follows:

Superman … Monday … Cheezy Pouffs … Bacon … Stumbling … Trail Mix …  Punch … Friday … Preparation … Uncle Mudler … Normal … Backseat … Mudler-sense … The FBI … Unthinkable … Patience … Elephant Jokes … Cooking … Rickety Tables … Mr. Skimmer … Bert and Ernie … Midnight Confessions … The Moon ... Bright Sunshine

a/n:  for anyone new joining the fray, I wrote a series starting last fictober called ‘Life’ (here’s the last in that series but they’re all listed) … then I finished it … and continued with ‘Life, part 2′ and that’s listed above … you might want to read those first :)

@today-in-fic @fictober

___________________

Skinner showed up early, beating the impossibly always on-time Dave by at least 20 minutes. The look on his face did not convey happy tidings and the pair stopped him before he could leave the entryway, “what happened?”

And not about to mince words, “we found plans for other potential sites.”

Mulder, already antsy to touch her, reached for Scully’s back, winding fingers in her loose materialled shirt, denying skin to skin but feeling the anchor point more necessary than air, “where? When?”

“Air and Space, Natural History, Archives, Vietnam Wall. From the looks of them, they were still in the planning stages, no set dates were determined.”

Scully, wanting more than her anchor point polyester, fumbled behind her until she found the side pocket of his shorts, hooking her thumb on it, completing the circle, “Dave works at Air and Space.”

A few seconds of heavy silence hung then Skinner gave her a grave look, “tell him to take a few more days off.”

Paling slightly, she moved on, fingers gripped tighter to Mulder, “and we only found the driver of the van. We have no idea if he was alone or in a group. Those targets are still viable.”

Skinner nodded to her, “yes, they are. I was going to cancel on dinner and keep working but I promised Sam.”

With her other hand, she touched her boss lightly on the arm, “you needed a break anyways.”

“Collins also threatened to call my mother if I didn’t leave for awhile.”

Mulder, who really should have been laser-focused on the imminent threat to the world surrounding him, gave Skinner a confused look, genuine wonderment filling his features, “you have a mother?”

Too tired to hit the younger man, Skinner glared at him, “yes, I have a mother. She is 4’ 10”, 77-years old, full head of pure white hair and could knock you on your ass without dropping her hand mixer.”

“Walter, I need to meet this woman.”

Finally, he smiled, chuckling in the face of depression, “she lives in Georgia with her brother but if I can get her out of the retirement village and away from her baking pans, I will bring her over. I believe she’d like the two of you.”

That moment of merriment ended mere seconds later, however, when reality returned, “do you need us to come in?”

Skinner nodded, “whenever you’re ready. We’ve got roomfuls of paper trail to get through and we could use your eyes.”

“I can go back with you after dinner.” Mulder looked down at Scully, head twisted to see her, “you, however, need a few days off.”

Any other place in any other universe in any other moment in existence, she would have punched him  for ordering her around but she was exhausted, knowing he was right, “I can probably come in after Mom gets her walking casts on Tuesday but before then, she still needs someone.”

Maggie, having silently rolled herself into the room, would have argued but seeing her daughter held together with the barest of threads, made herself known, “I certainly do, especially now that Walter has arrived.” Looking up at the towering man, “can you come and reach something for me, please?”

Complying without question, Mulder held Scully back from following, tucking her in close to him instead, “thanks for not smacking me around for the comment.”

One defeated shoulder-shrug later, “I will next time, promise.”

Squeezing her in tighter for a second, “should we go see if your mom and Skinner are making out yet?”

“Why would you say that?” Following his hand-pull to the kitchen, “seriously, why?”

“’Cause I’m twisted like that.”

&&&&&&&&&

Everything seemed fine. People arrived, children clamored for hugs, adults talked over each other, things spilled, Skinner took his shoes off and revealed socks with penguins on them, Scully joked and laughed, kissed and fawned, asked and answered … then disappeared, claiming vegetable transection needed to be done.

It was the carrot cutting that tipped him off.

Her exact slicing.

She was usually, contrary to ‘med school, geometrically-precise incision machine Scully’, a terribly messy vegetable killer. She hacked away like she’d never held a knife before, uneven chunks, little bits flying, carcasses littering the counter. Nothing was round, even, uniform. It was a veritable nightmare.

Today, she was cutting each carrot 1/8” thick, Mulder surreptitiously checking to see if she had a ruler somewhere for measurement purposes.

She did not.

He didn’t stop her, however, leaving her to her hopefully beneficial food catharsis while the guests carried on conversations around her.

Maggie had added kebobs to her menu somewhere along the line and after carrots came Scully’s cleaning and chopping of green peppers, onions, mushrooms, each strung with military care on metal skewers, perfectly spaced, alternating pattern never deviating, one pepper, one onion, one mushroom, one cherry tomato, one pepper, one tomato, one mushroom, one onion, one pepper.

The beef cubes were already cut but even those, she handled with precision, eight to a stick, coated with seasoning, settled on the plate to wait for the grill.

Once she’d washed her hands, he excused himself from the ever-growing crowd to take her by the elbow, back her into Maggie’s room, searching for quiet, “are you okay?”

Eyes flashing suddenly at him, “why wouldn’t I be?”

“’Cause you actually cut the vegetables. I mean, I would bet you a thousand dollars those things are all the same damn size. Something’s up.”

“Mulder.”

Leaning closer, nearly whispering at this point, “what is that beautiful brain of yours thinking about that has you strung tighter than a piano wire?”

And her eyes darkened, filling, crashing, depths stormy, churning, sinking, “I had three kids and I was fine doing them. They died immediately. They all looked peaceful, no signs of prolonged pain or breathing, lungs clean, I mean, if you are going to die in an explosion, they went the best way possible …” Suddenly swaying, she grabbed Mulder’s arm, “I just said …” Allowing herself to be seated on the bed, she saw Mulder carefully kneel in front of her, hands on her thighs, gripping flesh, kneading muscle, “I just said that three kids died in the best possible way … what the hell is wrong with me?”

“Nothing is wrong with you. You did your job. You did your job then came home and saw five healthy, happy, breathing, kicking, loud, boisterous children and not even using my fancy degrees, I’m deducing that you freaked out. Those kids from before, that was the best way for them to die, if they had to die. I wish they hadn’t but since they did, I’m going to be grateful it was very, very quick.” Hands sliding up to her waist, thumbs across her abdomen to rendezvous near her bellybutton, “now, with your permission, I would like to tell your brother and your cousin to keep their kids out of DC for the duration. If they never go back to the city, I will be perfectly happy with that.”

“Mul-”

“The point of terrorism is to invoke terror and even though I will fight that by going down to work and dealing with the shit that is the rest of the world, I am going to give in to the terror for the moment and keep those little ankle-biters as far from ground zero as humanly possible.”

“Mul-”

“I will let whoever the fuck blew up my city get to me if it means I have a possibility of keeping them safe and since I have the information and the means and the …”

She shut him up with a hand over his mouth, “will you be quiet for a minute?” Hearing a muffled ‘maybe’, she moved her hand, “I would like to keep the kids from hearing the conversation but I agree.”

Pulling his head back, “you agree?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know … ‘cause you’re the rational one who has never agreed with me about anything except red M&Ms and that Tarintino’s salsa has too much Cilantro in it.” Standing slowly, his leg partially asleep, “will you come back out and keep the kids busy while I tell the rest of them?”

Hugging him around the waist, her chin pressed into his hip, “when can we go back on vacation?”

“As soon as humanly damned possible.”

&&&&&&&&&&

Mulder filled in parents, Scully hugged offspring and played semi-violent rounds of Spoons on the living room floor. The whole crowd ate, everyone from Toby upwards knowingly skirting any subject that might be the least bit depressing or scary, Joanna nearly starting a food fight when she accidently flung an onion on her aunt-in-law. Maggie, it being a special occasion, threw it right back without missing a beat, then raised her hands as she saw forks suddenly and instantly filling with whatever hadn’t been inhaled to that point, “stop! Put the forks down and move away from the plates. We have a guest and he does not need to be covered in food.” Looking directly at her son, who was slower than the rest in putting his utensil down, “I understand he needs his induction but how about we save that for another time, yes?”

Charlie narrowed his eyes at her, then turned his gaze upon poor Walter, clueless for nary the third time in his life at most, “next time, Uncle Skimmer … next time.”

Betsy moved her hand to Skinner’s arm, “I’ll protect you, Uncle Skimmer, I promise. Uncle Charlie isn’t very good with a fork but if he picks up a spoon, get under the table.”

Skinner simply leaned over when normal dinner had resumed, kissing the top of her little braided-haired head.

Scully wanted to cry.

#msr #more targets than originally thought #Maggie Scully #Skinner #xfiles fanfic #xf fanfic #my writing #Life part 2 series

[hwisaacs]

LOCATION: Various / Travelers Rest, SC DATE: March 31st TIME: Various  TRIGGERS: abuse, homophobia (implied - there’s like one sentence about his dad and then the last paragraph where he’s ‘talking’ to his sister.) MENTIONS: @jackfuckingmonday CLOSED

         Henry should have cancelled on his parents when he had the chance. The last few days had been hectic, and he was exhausted. Classes started back up tomorrow; he was not ready for them after a long weekend of flights, games, and celebrations. He had already promised his mom he would be back, and he knew that his dad would have been annoyed at him for cancelling plans last minute. Henry would find an excuse to get back to Palmetto as quickly as possible, even if he had to fake an emergency. At least all his homework was finished, so that was one less thing he needed to worry about. Henry hadn’t actually thought about the consequences of his actions on Friday night and what it might mean for Sunday church with his parents, but now it was a problem he needed to be handled. Well, Friday was fun, if nothing else; maybe not the flight and losing the match, everything else was though. He wasn’t exactly complaining, at least.

         Sitting in his car, he looked at his reflection once more. There were obvious lines where the concealer was, but he couldn’t help that. Henry grabbed the scarf in the seat beside him and put it around his neck. Technically, it was too warm to wear it, he didn’t have a choice though. God, this was so obvious what he was trying to do. Henry hoped his parents were stupid enough to not ask. He walked up to his house, a deep feeling of anxiousness boiling up in him. He saw his mom at the door, she ran out, barefooted, to greet him—as if she didn’t live less than an hour away and couldn’t visit him if she wanted to. He bit back the bitter feeling about his mom away and gave her a hug. He knew this was all show for the neighbors anyway. It always was.

         “How was your break?” she asked, arm around his shoulders. Henry fought the urge to panic.

         “Busy. Professors like to give homework over break. So, I worked on that, then had practice every day, and then the game was on Friday. It feels less like a break and more like a small vacation from seeing the rest of the students at the school. How was yours?” he questioned.

         “Oh, the same as ever. Got some planning for events at the church done, went to the movies with my friends, worked on grading some papers and lesson plans. The usual break stuff. I cooked breakfast for you, if you’re hungry. We missed having you here for break.”

         Henry knew that could only be partially true, though he smiled anyway. He hugged his mom again. Some days he wondered how someone so kind could be married to a monster. Then other days he thought she was just as much of a monster for letting her husband treat his children so poorly. Sometimes his moods about his mom shifted practically within seconds and he still didn’t understand why that happened. He stepped into the house and he could practically feel his father’s foul mood from the doorway. Walking towards the kitchen, he tried to be as quiet as possible, so he wouldn’t piss off his dad more.

         “Henry,” the man spat, as he took a seat at the table.

         “Good morning, sir,” he said.

         “Take off the damned scarf. You’re indoors.”

         Henry did as he was told, putting the scarf on the back of the chair and praying to god that his dad didn’t notice the makeup. Luckily, he didn’t seem to, and he relaxed a bit as his mom put the food on the table. The rest of breakfast went by without a problem. He made small talk with his mom and let his dad lecture him about how he should be focusing on his studies instead of playing Exy—as if Henry was failing his classes, as if his dad was paying close enough attention. Finally, it was time to leave for church and his family piled in the car. The drive always felt either too long or too short. Today it was too long. He’d always hated being trapped in a car with his dad. Too much time for his dad to critique his looks or whatever else he was in the mood to have a problem with. It happened to be his hair and outfit choice today, which apparently was all wrong. Henry couldn’t tune him out, because the conversations always required more than a simple yes or no, sir. Eventually, they made it to the church; Henry flung himself from the car. The church was crowded today—and Henry went off to find any familiar face. Today that face happened to be Monica Browning, his high school coach.

         “Henry!” she exclaimed, a smile on her face as she walked over. Sometimes small towns weren’t the absolute worst.

         “Hey, coach,” he responded, matching her enthusiasm, even if it was fake.

         “I watched the last game. Congratulations on making it through. How’s your head?”

         “Thank you! My head is fine. I was given the all clear and it seems to be alright now. How is your team looking this year? I haven’t been able to keep up. Any potential Foxes?”

         “Oh, with you gone, the team hasn’t done very well. And I don’t think there are any potential Foxes. But I’ll keep an eye out for them. Why don’t you sit with me today?”

         “I’d love to, but I have to head back practically as soon as I get home, so I should really spend the time with mom and dad. But we’ll talk soon. You have my number. I’ll have mom invite you for dinner next time I can stay longer.”

         “Sounds like a plan. It was good seeing you.” She gave him a hug and he went off to find his parents.

         For the most part the ceremony wasn’t too boring, and he was able to pay attention to it the whole time. Henry didn’t hate church; he just hated this one. Everyone was too catty, talking about everyone else behind their backs. There were some things that were hateful. It’s saving grace was the youth program, which Monica ran, meaning it wasn’t the worst it could have been. Growing up, that had always been one thing he and Holland looked forward to at church. In almost no time, the people started clearing out, heading out to talk or staying in the chapel to chatter.

         “Oh, Henry, you have a smudge. Let me…” his mom looked over at him, grabbing her water bottle and dipping a tissue into it.

         “Mom, no,” Henry tried to move away, but couldn’t get away in time. She wiped off what little makeup was still there covering up the bruise. Just at the same time his father looked over—and Henry saw the dark look on his face.

         “Henry William, is that a hickey?” she gasped, moving back.

         “Marilyn,” he said slowly, “I just remembered something I have to do at home with Henry. If you could catch a ride with someone, I’d appreciate it. Henry, go to the car. Now.”

         Henry really should have stayed in Palmetto, but he listened to his dad, knowing what would happen if he didn’t. There were photos of he and Jack online from after the game and at the airport. Surely his dad hadn’t seen them. William had never taken an interest in his son’s life. As soon as the car started and they were out of the church parking lot, Henry spoke.

         “Dad, I—” he started.

         “How dare you make a fool out of me. Showing up to church of all places, looking like you do. Do you know that this entire town looks at us as a family? You’re way more trouble than you are worth. I have to deal with you and the crushing disappointment you’ve always been. And don’t get me started with your sister. What the fuck did I do to deserve you as a child?” William was shouting, though at least he seemed too angry to reach out and grab Henry. He kept going; Henry tuned him out. All of his dad’s speeches sounded the exact same. “I hope to god you’re not at that school slutting around. I won’t hesitate to cut you off if I even catch wind of you causing trouble.” So, he didn’t know who Henry was kissing. “Is she your girlfriend? Who is this woman you’re kissing? I deserve to meet her. Next Sunday.”

         “I can’t next Sun—”

         “You’ll do as I say. Now get in the fucking house.” Henry hadn’t even realized they were home already.

         “I really should be getting back to school soon.”

         “Get in the house.”

         Henry listened, his heart growing heavy with every step. The second he walked in, Wednesday was at his side. He gave her a pet on the head and told her to go to his room. He’d be fine; it wasn’t like his dad hadn’t been angry before. The black dog whined, then gave Henry’s hand a lick, and walked out of the room. His dad made quick work of the punishment and stormed off to his office to grab a drink. Which meant Henry had less than a half an hour to get out of here. He went up to his room, giving Wednesday some more pets on the head, wishing that he could take her back with him more than anything. Maybe he could talk to Betsy about that, since the only reason he had the dog in the first place was so he’d stop sleeping in his sister’s room when he was still in eight grade. Henry grabbed a few books and headed down the hallway, to the door at the end that was never open anymore. The pink and black H on the door contrasted to the blue and white one on his own door. He opened it and stepped inside.

         It was almost like stepping into a time machine. Back to junior year. The posters of bands and shows Holland was obsessing at the time covering the walls. CDs strung about, with clothing. He was surprised that his dad hadn’t gotten rid of this stuff already. Then again, it was a reminder of his failure or a reminder to Henry not to mess up. Getting rid of it meant that he had to admit his failure. Maybe he was hoping Holland would come back, admit he was right, and things would go back to normal. Henry used to think that too. When the pain of her departure was fresh. She’ll be back in a few days, he’d thought at the time. He’d been wrong. Dust collected on every surface. He looked back, but Wednesday sat at the doorway, not coming inside the room. She missed Hol too. For the first time all day, he let himself cry. He missed his sister so much. Even as happy as he was at Palmetto, playing Exy, learning, hanging with Jack, none of it would ever fill the void that was left in his chest when she left. Henry wasn’t sure seeing Hol again would even fix that. Holland leaving left a deep scar. For a little bit, he stood and cried. Then he wiped his tears, looked around once more—spotting something that he’d never noticed before. On her bookshelf, there was a rainbow flag pin. He crossed the room and picked it up, putting it in his pocket. He searched the room again, finding a few more pride themed things and taking them as well.

         “I miss you,” he whispered. “But why did you make me feel ashamed for something you were too? I was twelve. I felt so alone. And you told me to hide it, that it was better to not feel that way at all. You told me to be normal. Hol, I am normal.” Henry wiped another tear away. “You’d like Jack. They make me feel like you did, except I don’t feel like I have to hide any part of who I am.” For a moment he let the words linger in the air, as if he was talking to a ghost. “I’m going to find you.”

#abuse tw #homophobia implication tw #self para. #self para / 003. #this is a long para and all that happens is #henry sees his old coach #his dad gets mad he has a hickey #and he goes in his sister's room

[erinandcaitlin]

My Pregnancy Through Week 20

With 9 weeks to go before my due date, I’m realizing I have written pretty much nothing about my pregnancy; I also have a fairly limited set of photos from this time other than the profile photos we have taken every 4 weeks. In 9 weeks we’ll be entering a period of sleeplessness and intensity that will probably be the start of a long period of time where the idea of sitting and writing something down will seem like a luxury. So I figured now is a good time to try and jot down some thoughts and memories about this time.

My second pregnancy has been very different than my first was (or would have been). I entered my first pregnancy with a sense of cautious optimism, with Erin and I not really talking in definites and saying things like hoping it would “stick.” We knew that the odds were 1 in 4 that something could go wrong and the embryo would stop developing; but we tried to also keep in mind the other half of those odds, the 3 in 4 of success. Unfortunately the cautiousness did not do anything to prevent how devastating it was to lose the pregnancy after only 8 weeks. On paper it was a short period of time, and it happened during the most likely time for it to happen. But after a year of trying, after finally seeing the positive test, it was hard not to immediately allow myself to really imagine our lives with a baby in 9 months, and think about a nursery, and get excited about watching the oval with the tiny heartbeat on the ultrasound screen grow. The intensity of the grief over losing something I had so briefly was unexpected.

I still think about that first pregnancy and what might have been, whether it was a girl or a boy. I don’t really want this to turn into an essay about processing my miscarriage right now, but it’s important context for how this pregnancy has felt for me so far.

It took another year, lots of doctor’s appointments, tests, and finally one round of half-dose fertility medication before we got another set of positive tests. I didn’t start crying like I did with the first positive pregnancy test a little over a year prior - I think I was holding things farther away from myself, thinking that maybe if I did that I wouldn’t jinx things, or if something did go wrong again I could do a better job of shielding myself from it. I don’t mean to make it sound like I wasn’t happy - I had counted down the days until I could take that test, and I woke up early (which is a big deal, as anyone who knows me would agree) so I could take it right away. I was incredibly happy when I saw the positive test, but I think there was also a thread of fear running underneath it.

While Erin was still asleep, I tried to think fast about how I could tell him in a way that would make for a cute story later. With the first pregnancy I was so excited I just went with the first thing I thought of, which was calling down to him while he was on his computer, “Hey Erin, can you clean the litter box? I won’t be able to for the next 9 months.” Which, in retrospect, was… not cute. I ended up grabbing a little jewelry box and putting in a pair of the booties Betsy had sent us during our last pregnancy - two little knitted socks with pom poms on top - and the two positive tests. I waited impatiently in the bathroom for Erin to wake up for his morning shower. After what seemed like approximately four hours and was probably more like 10 minutes, he finally shuffled into the bathroom and I shoved the box in his hands.

He was clearly not awake yet and mumbled, “What is this?”

“Open it!”

He looked at me with confusion before he slowly opened the box and squinted down at the contents. “Why are you giving me cotton balls?”

He kept staring down at the box in his hands for a few more seconds before he (finally) noticed the pregnancy tests and looked up at me, totally awake.

“Really?!”

---

My first appointment for an ultrasound was at 8 weeks. For the 4 weeks leading up to it, I’m not really sure how to describe where our heads were at. The last time we went in for an 8 week appointment, there was a small oval that didn’t pulse like it did last time, and the silence of ultrasound tech. So we were both hesitant to dive back into being too excited. We were quiet on the drive to the new OBGYN’s office, and on the way in Erin asked me how I was feeling.

“I don’t know. I just have an intense feeling of dread.” Erin squeezed my hand and we went inside to wait for our appointment. When we were called back into the exam room, the nurse was excitedly asking us how far along we were, talking about the classes they offered at the hospital, how great our doctor was, but honestly I can barely remember any of it. I talked to Erin about it later and it turns out we were both thinking: “This only matters if there’s actually a heartbeat.”

Our doctor came in and was upbeat and friendly with us - and I think she immediately could tell how tense we were. “Let’s just get to the ultrasound, sound good?”

Erin and I held hands as she pulled up the ultrasound machine. When the picture came up clearly showing our baby with a beating heart, I instantly burst into tears. I had no idea that was going to happen - I had convinced myself so strongly that the results were going to be bad that the shock of seeing everything was fine just totally overwhelmed me.

“Everything looks great, guys,” she said. I can’t really convey how well she handled this - she wasn’t overly saccharine or dismissive or over-enthusiastic, just really confidently encouraging like, “I knew it! I knew it would be fine.”

Above: 8 week ultrasound photo

I won’t say that from that point on I didn’t have any anxiety anymore. Appointments were 4 weeks apart, and it felt like the cycle basically went:

Have appointment where everything is fine

Feel reassured and happy for 2-3 days

Increasingly worry over the ensuing 3 weeks

Repeat

I actually ended up buying a mini doppler, which I honestly think is what kept me sane in the beginning phase when I couldn’t feel the baby moving yet. I set some rules and expectations for myself - only once a week, I ran a timer to make sure I never did it for more than 10 minutes, and I reminded myself that if I couldn’t find a heartbeat, it didn’t mean something was wrong; an embryo is tiny, and I’m not a doctor. Luckily it was never really an issue - there was only once or twice when I couldn’t find it on the first go, and usually taking a break and having a snack was all it took for me to find it on the next try.

The other thing that weirdly helped during the first trimester was the fact that I was having all kinds of fun symptoms that I didn’t have the first time. I had just started a new job when the “morning” sickness started. As you may know or have heard, “morning” sickness is a misnomer. For me it was all day sickness. I was trying to orient myself into a new position at a new company, and was sitting on conference calls feeling like I needed to barf all day. I was hungry but didn’t want to eat anything. I chugged mint tea and ginger tea, and demolished containers of “Preggie Pops” trying to keep myself above water. Short drives around town would make me carsick.

The other fun symptom I had was that my skin went completely nuts. I have never in my life had acne that bad, and that includes middle school and high school. Again, it was in some ways a reassuring sign that my pregnancy was progressing well, but it wasn’t pretty. Add to that that suddenly every ingredient in every makeup item I used was “maybe not safe for pregnancy, I don’t know, but probably don’t use it just in case.”

Anyway, at this point we decided to tell our immediate family. Betsy and Steve happened to be visiting around this time, so when we went out to dinner to the fancy Black Cat Bistro, we told them then. There was going to be no explaining around all the special requests I was going to have to make for the meal! For my mom and dad, and Matt and Mallory, we used FaceTime. Everyone was super excited for us, as they’d all known how long we’d been trying for our second pregnancy and how much we’d been hoping for it.

Sometime around 9 or 10 weeks I had to go on a business trip to NYC, which meant a 6 hour cross-country flight. Hoo boy was that fun. I did okay for the first hour or two, but things abruptly went downhill for no discernible reason, and I spent the last 4 hours listening to Netflix shows with my eyes closed and putting all my mental energy towards not throwing up. While in New York I started running out of Preggie Pops and we wandered through drug stores until I found a bag of LemonHeads, which really did not work nearly as well and I now suspect actually made things worse. We went to some really nice restaurants while we were in town, and when my stomach was feeling agreeable I got to thoroughly enjoy them, but there were nights where I only got to eat a couple bites of really good food before my stomach arbitrarily said, “Nope, we’re done here. We’re hungry but literally everything looks disgusting. No more fish for you.” The flight back wasn’t as bad as the flight there had been, maybe just because I was so looking forward to being at home again.

Looming on the horizon was also our trip that we had been planning for almost a year to our friends’ destination wedding. I briefly considered canceling the trip, mainly out of fear that I’d somehow disrupt the pregnancy, but decided ultimately to go for it. The trip was for one week in France and one week in Iceland, and I mostly did okay on the flight. I had learned at this point that making sure my stomach wasn’t empty helped, so I brought literally an entire plastic shopping bag of snack food on the flight with me - enough food that we got pulled aside at security so they could look through it. There were a few other downsides to traveling at this point - I was in France and couldn’t eat most of the cheeses, or any of the charcuterie meats. (To be fair, I settled instead for stuffing my face with bread and pastries.) I couldn’t drink any wines, or the fancy coffees, and when we went to nice restaurants I had to get my meat well done. My bathing suits didn’t really fit anymore and a lot of my clothes in general were starting to get uncomfortably tight. I got tired really easily, and my appetite was still a bit finicky at this point. But in spite of all that, the trip was amazing, and I’m so glad we didn’t cancel it. I get to look back at the photos and think, “I carried my baby all around France and Iceland before he was even born.”

This could easily turn into a whole other post about our trip, so I’m going to skip ahead so this doesn’t end up being 50 pages instead of 15!

Right after we got back from our trip, we had our 12 week appointment where we got to see the baby being active for the first time. This was when we decided on the nickname, “Rupert (or Roberta) Roll-Around.” I had originally used that name in reference to Erin’s tendency to roll himself up in the blankets in the night; now it seemed perfect for baby that couldn’t seem to keep still.

Above: 12 week ultrasound

It was also around the time when I could opt to do blood testing for genetic/health screenings, and find out the gender of the baby. We both agreed we wanted to know, and I went in for the blood draw on a weekday morning. I underestimated how much blood they were going to need to take, and definitely did not eat enough beforehand - for the first time ever (and I have had a lot of blood draws in my life, and have donated blood multiple times) I briefly passed out after the draw. Some exacerbating factors were that I’m pretty sure I got a new phlebotomist (which was a word I didn’t realize I knew until I said it to Erin - a health tech who does blood draws) - I had been many times and never seen her there - and her needle insertion was quite painful compared to others I’ve had, not to mention she kept wiggling it around in my arm. The final straw was when she remove the needle and dropped the cotton ball, so I got an eyeful of a bunch of blood before the room started receding and I muttered, “Uh, I’m getting kind of dizzy” before I went out for a moment or two. I woke up quickly and got to experience the fun process of having my chair leaned back, suddenly feeling like it was a million degrees and sweating, having ice packs arranged around my neck and arms, and being handed a series of apple juice boxes to chug. The apple juice more than anything else helped make the room stabilize and come back into focus. Once I felt stable enough I went and sat in the waiting room with more juice and a bunch of crackers until I was okay enough to go back to work.

Long story short, a week later we got the results back - no abnormalities on the genetic screenings, woo! The nurse offered to tell me the gender over the phone, as well as the option for her to leave a card at the front desk with the gender so Erin and I could find out together. We opted for the card and went in first thing the next morning. We made it as far as the parking lot before we stopped to open the envelope.

Erin asked if we should guess first.

“Sure,” I said. “What do you think it’ll be?”

“Hmm… I think… we are having a girl. A Roberta Roll-Around.”

“I think it’s a Rupert. Ready?”

We stood behind the car and opened the card together. A boy! A tiny Erin! We honestly would have been equally excited either way; more than anything the best feeling was having one more thing that made everything about the baby feel so much more real.

We waited to tell our extended family about the pregnancy until 16 weeks, a number I had somewhat arbitrarily picked. Another piece of context to add here is that following my first miscarriage, I had joined a few online communities for women who were trying to conceive after a miscarriage. It was incredibly helpful to have commiseration from people who were also struggling with a mix of hopefulness, sadness, and fear; but it also exposed me to a lot of stories of women with repeat miscarriages, mostly losing them before 16 weeks. The number stuck in my head, so that’s where 16 weeks came from.

The 16 week ultrasound was especially awesome - the baby was putting on a real show, moving his arms and legs around and flipping over. The doctor was extremely positive about how he was developing - his brain, spine, and organs all looked perfect. We got a bit of it on video, which I am still trying to get uploaded here... watch this space!

Above: Me at 12 weeks and 16 weeks

Above: 16 week ultrasound photo

The next big milestone was the 20 week anatomy scan. Another opportunity to be excited and nervous at the same time. We were excited at the opportunity to see our baby moving on the screen for an hour or more - leading up to this we had had ultrasounds at most of our appointments, but they were usually quite quick - think less than 5 minutes. Watching the embryo grow from a jelly bean at 8 weeks to a tiny baby-shaped jelly bean at 12 weeks and then a wow-that’s-a-real-baby and woah-he-flipped-over baby at 16 weeks had been amazing, but it always felt like we got 2 seconds to absorb it before the machine was turned off and we had another 4 week wait ahead of us. So the idea of a luxurious hour spent watching the baby was extremely exciting. But obviously the anatomy scan is also a potential time to find out whether there might be something wrong.

In the end the scan went really well, and we got to watch the baby frustrate the ultrasound tech by wiggling and moving around constantly. I couldn’t feel him moving quite yet, so in spite of the fact that it was making the ultrasound tech’s job a bit more difficult, seeing him roll and kick was awesome. The doctor came in afterwards to let us know that everything looked good, the only thing they had noticed was that the vermis, a connective piece between the two halves of the cerebellum, did not seem to go as far down as they’d expect. The cerebellum itself was exactly the right size, which was good news. She said we should go for a fetal MRI, and then depending on those results come back for a follow-up scan.

This was definitely not the result we were hoping for, but we immediately went about doing some reading to learn as much as we could. Everything we found was all around reassuring - the fact that the cerebellum was the right size ruled out the most severe options, and the fact that it was only partially vs. entirely missing made it even less concerning. It seemed the worst potential effects based on these combined factors was that early on in baby/toddlerhood, he may have slightly worse fine motor skill control - but studies showed that by age 6 kids with this abnormality were entirely caught up with their peers. This particular issue also has an extremely high false positive rate - over 30% - and it was generally recognized to be a fairly new thing to catch, mostly due to how rapidly the tech was improving. In other words, doctors may have been over-diagnosing or over-concerned just because they could see it in a way they couldn’t 5 years ago. All these factors combined reassured us so we were able to control the extent of our worrying/distress. To jump right to the end, the MRI techs said everything looked totally normal to them (and they also mentioned that the baby did not seem to want to sit still long enough for them to get more than a couple of photos), the doctor had us come in for another scan anyway, and came out of that still not entirely sure the extent of things. We declined doing another MRI, especially because the last one had been fine; and it also wasn’t going to make any difference in our plans, since there’s nothing to be “done” about it, so we wanted to just move on from it. It honestly hasn’t even crossed my mind since then, at least until I wrote it down just now :)

Phew! So that makes 20 weeks (plus a brief 8 week fast-forward to the second scan), which is a good halfway mark. I’ll stop this entry here and start up the next one this week - from 20 weeks to where I am now, at 32 weeks.

[philosophiums]

HOLYYYYY FUUUUUCK MY HEART WENT TO A DARK PLACE I DON'T THINK EVEN YOU'RE GOING TO LIKE THIS ANGST WHY MUST I BE LIKE THIS...what if, (bc my poor son hasn't suffered enough, ofc) Neil got cancer? Terminal lung cancer, or leukemia or smthn.

And ofc, without Neil, Andrew would be a mess, and Neil knows that, and he doesn’t want Andrew to spiral bc of him even tho it’s def NOT his fault that he has cancer so he makes a deal with Andrew–he will hold on for as long as he can andtry experimental treatments and just TRY his hardest to stay alive, even though he’s aware his chances of survival are barely in existence and he’s in pain and he doesn’t want to–but only if Andrew promises to keep trying if (when) he dies.I thought about it the other way around too but it’s not QUITE as angsty bc Andrew would fight literally bc Neil needs some1 to watch his stupid ass and then Neil isn’t rlly suicidal but his playing would probably be horrible and he’d be distractedand he’d probs ends up getting himself killed bc Andrew wouldn’t be there to be his anchor. (I’m so sorry about this I have a problem I just needed to share)

okay, first of all, Courtney, fuck off. second of all, I cried writing this. I cried a lot. I hate everything about this and I hope you all suffer with me because this sucks

it starts with Neil being tired

a lot

it’s a persistent sort of tired that dogs him during practice and haunts him during class

even his bones seem to be tired, aching in a dull, heavy way

he and everyone else tag it as stress and anxiety, because even Neil realizes that it’s more of a heavy sort of tired

he’s not yawning really at all

he’s just

unmotivated, and moving seems like more work than it should be

and then Neil starts getting tired faster during practice, and it gets harder for him to catch his breath

Andrew forces him to go in and see a doctor, but the doctor just tells Neil to start sleeping at least seven hours per night and to eat better

thus night practices with Kevin get cancelled and Andrew stops keeping sweets and other unhealthy food in the dorm

at least in the sight of Neil

Neil doesn’t like seeing Andrew worried about him, so he hides the fact that even the extra sleep and the regulated diet aren’t really helping

he actually seems to be losing weight

but then the bruises start forming

and we all know that bruises are commonplace for Neil, so they go unnoticed at first, but then they start happening over little things, like bumping shoulders with Andrew

and Neil is still fucking fatigued all the time, he is bone-tired

Andrew has just about had enough, and is just about to drag Neil’s ass back to the doctor

determined to make threats to the doctor if he has to in order to find out what the hell is wrong with Neil

when Neil starts getting sudden nose bleeds

just out of nowhere, often not triggered by anything, and they’re frequent

this time Neil volunteers to go to the clinic, and Andrew goes with him

the doctor listens to the symptoms and then

well

Neil gets transferred to the hospital in Columbia

no one has told them anything yet

Andrew is panicking, heart thumping in his chest worse than when he stands on the edge of the roof

Neil, despite everything, is calm

there’s no point in panicking yet

no point in panicking at all

they get their answers at the hospital, a nurse sitting them down and explaining that Neil’s symptoms sound like leukemia, and that they need to run some tests

Neil is immediately put in for a bone marrow biopsy and, not trusting the doctors, he denies the offer for an anesthetic

they still inject him with a local, and that’s the most painful part of the whole procedure

he’s out of there in fifteen minutes, and the hospital sends him and Andrew home

it takes two weeks and five days before the hospital contacts Neil

Andrew was keeping track of the days as he did more and more research on leukemia

and that’s exactly what they find

at 4:03pm on a Thursday afternoon in November, Neil is diagnosed with acute myelogenous leukemia

one of the nurses gives Neil information about a cancer center in Columbia and suggests that Neil go try to check in that night

Neil doesn’t want to, obviously

he wants to go home, talk to his family, sleep with Andrew, and forget about all of this

but Andrew is having none of that

so Neil goes

but of course that’s not how the world works, and Neil and Andrew end up driving home anyway

(and this is going to be a novel if I don’t quit so)

Andrew quits playing Exy in order to drive Neil back and forth from Columbia, for as long as Neil can manage the trip

eventually it gets to the point where the treatments start killing things aside from just the cancer, though, and Neil stays in Columbia

Andrew stays with him

because Andrew is scary, and the doctors don’t think it’s worth trying to enforce their rules when Neil had a full-blown panic attack the first night after Andrew was forced to leave

so Andrew stays with Neil, not in the same bed because of all of the tubes, but at least in the same room

money isn’t an issue, so Neil tries everything, every drug, no matter how risky, no matter how experimental

he tries them because he promised Andrew, because he’s not ready to stop fighting yet

and Andrew

oh

this is killing Andrew

watching Neil fade away with each day, losing his hair, losing the brightness in his eyes

don’t stop fighting he whispers when he thinks Neil is asleep don’t leave me yet

when they eventually realize that the treatments aren’t doing anything

that Neil isn’t getting better

they leave

Neil points radomly at a map and they go there

Andrew drives, slower than normal so that Neil can look at the landscapes

but that’s not what Neil cares about

that’s not what Neil watches

and Andrew, for once, doesn’t tell Neil to stop staring

they end up renting a house with the last of Neil’s money, a place in the quiet part of town with a decent backyard

but Neil doesn’t go outside anyway

he stays with Andrew, who has quit smoking, who has lost muscle mass due to lack of use, who stays glued to Neil’s side no matter what

and just as Neil is memorizing Andrew’s face, Andrew is memorizing Neil’s

Neil doesn’t say You have to keep living

and Andrew doesn’t say That’s rich, coming from a dying man

instead, Neil says I love you and you were always the survivor between the two of us

and Andrew says you are the only thing that matters

when Neil dies

oh, god

Andrew, who usually can’t bring himself to care about anything

who often doesn’t know how to express his emotions anyway

Andrew screams and cries and holds onto Neil until he’s managed to convince himself to let go

and then he doesn’t look back

he calls 911 to come get the body

and he calls Wymack

and he calls Bee

but these are just motions, cursory actions that mean nothing

Andrew doesn’t go to the funeral, because what’s the point

Neil isn’t there, and he’s not going to give a shit

funerals are not for the dead, and Andrew has no intention of watching other people cry over a man who…

he’s just not going to do it

he stays at Palmetto because of his promise to Kevin

but he’s done with Exy, and he’s done with things that remind him of Neil

he goes to see Betsy, but he doesn’t talk to her

he just wants to sit quietly with someone who doesn’t give him a rough look of pity every time he’s near

he just wants an hour per week to mourn Neil in peace

Andrew notices when the team stops mourning Neil, when they move on with their lives

a month is all they gave him before picking themselves up

it’s what Neil would have wanted

hell, he wouldn’t have wanted them to mourn at all

but it still makes Andrew hate all of them more

he mourns Neil for the rest of the school year

mourns until he graduates

and then he sheds himself of Neil like a ghost

and he leaves that ghost in Palmetto, with Neil’s unspoken plea for Andrew to live being the only thing Andrew holds onto

#jostxnneil #the foxhole court #tfc #andreil #angst #cancer #character death #i'M CRYING #COURTNEY WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS #mine #my writing

[michaelgmoore35]

Community Schools showing promise in NYC

Successful school improvement recipes are not on microwave time; they develop in the sustained energy of the slow cooker, often requiring five years or more to show signs of progress.

After years of stinging skepticism, New York City’s community schools reform is showing those signs, according to evidence presented in a new report from RAND. The report shows higher rates of attendance, graduation, and math achievement, as well as fewer in-grade retentions, dropouts, and disciplinary actions.

The report is a vindication of sorts for supporters of community schools, including New York City Mayor Bill de Blasio, who announced his plan with great fanfare in 2014. His predecessor, Mike Bloomberg, had adopted the trendy approach of shuttering schools, converting them to charters, or shuffling students and educators from one building to the next in a desperate effort to find a quick fix.

Instead, de Blasio stepped off the conveyor belt of close-convert-repeat to invest hundreds of millions of education dollars into a less dramatic approach, albeit one that was actually based in research. The community schools model combines expanded learning time, family and community engagement, and collaborative leadership, with wraparound supports such as health clinics, counseling, and emergency housing assistance.

But Mayor de Blasio also overpromised, particularly around his “Renewal Schools” turnaround policy, which incorporated community school approaches. (All Renewal Schools were community schools, but most of the city’s community schools were never Renewal Schools.) When he announced the Renewal program in late 2014, he said that schools that had not noticeably improved at the end of three years would be closed. Unsurprisingly, then, the skepticism was strong when test scores did not immediately improve.

In 2016, the New York Times warned that “After 2 Years, Progress Is Hard to See in Some Struggling City Schools.”

“New York Knew Some Schools in Its $773 Million Plan Were Likely to Fail. It Kept Children in Them Anyway,” blared a 2018 New York Times headline.

“One of the mayor’s signature policies renewed nothing, but it did confirm that more than $750 million in centralized spending doesn’t buy better results,” U.S. Secretary of Education Betsy DeVos said last May.

Yet as explained in a 2016 National Education Policy Center policy memo about New York City’s community schools initiative, research has shown that test results obtained in the first two years of a reform do not predict longer-term and real improvements. That’s because real reform—the kind that lasts—happens not in one fell swoop but in stages over time. In the first stage, stakeholders spend energy and time laying the groundwork, changing practices, and challenging the status quo. Then and only then does the school move onto the sustaining phase that reshapes roles, rules, and responsibilities that lead to lasting change.

“Test score increases and other measures of desirable outcomes may follow from changed learning environments, but the full effects will emerge only with longer periods of exposure,” the authors of the NEPC memo wrote. “The research is clear: sustained and serious effort is necessary for most meaningful school reforms.”

Yet perhaps responding to the cacophony of criticism, De Blasio announced in February 2019 that he would cancel the Renewal School program. Only now, a year later, do we learn from RAND of these beneficial outcomes at the city’s community schools, including its Renewal Schools.

Fortunately, the larger community schools reform continues. New York City currently has more than 200 community schools—more than any school district in the nation. And other districts can learn from New York’s experience.

“The verdict is in: community schools work,” de Blasio said in a press conference last week.

Let’s hope the city gives them even more time to demonstrate what they can do.

-Courtesy of the NEPC at CU Boulder

[watersuncharted]

hi! its january 8th now, just a few days after setting in and man, things are insane! 

so, lets rewind. so much has happened since we last spoke. i cannot believe that right now im in spain! SPAIN! currently actually living my best life. im on the rooftop of my building, i can see the mountains i can see the water i can see sagrada in all of her glory. i see buildings and hear the bustle of the city below me. 

today was my first day alone and i must say, it’s been much needed. i woke up pretty late, around 12, and no one was home. as i got ready kay and betsy and melissa came back and got ready for class and went on their way. my class got cancelled, so pretty happy about that one. i got dressed, took out the trash, and went on a little walk. 

one thing to know about me is that i LOVE walks. they clear my head and they give me clarity and help me think better. they ease my nerves and calm me down.  although i didnt need too much calming, after this jam packed last few days i feel way better. 

i went to a cafe, which turned into a lunch spot apparently after 12. they had delicious coffee and i had a queso y jamon torta hehe the waiter was very nice and accomdated my english but i tried to speak to him in spanish. its weird, ill be thinking in spanish and then they’ll respond in english so then my english comes out wrong. kinda funny honestly. 

the weather was perfect so after i stayed there a while i wandered around to sagrada and throughout the neighborhood a little. absolutely gorgeous weather and im glad i got to see all the shops. 

 i took a lot of time to think today. im really happy about that. i think whats hard right now is that theres really no set schedule. i dont have my classes, everything i do is group and im not super super comfortable on my own. i mean, i am comfortable dont get me wrong. i dont really feel like this is a new place, which is weird, its just i dont really know what to do with myself, whats appropriate, where i can find wifi and things like that. i love it here so much, and although last night i did feel kinda homesick for my friends, i wasnt too down and out about it. 

if we rewind to the last few days, things have been crazy. i think last time i journaled was night one. after that, we did a bunch of things. the next night we went out to this sports bar and we ended up hanging out alll with americans and it was fun, dont get me wrong, but it was disappointing. it was nice to see the comfort i have in spain but i think im ready for the all immersive dive. i hope my classes aren’t all just international students and i hope that i meet others soon. we also went on a hunt for a striaghtener and i used my spanish skills to find us a huge mall. im so happy we did that because not only did we find a mall, we explored and found a cool residential area that seemed like the real deal. we walked over a highway, almost got ran over by a tram, but in the end we bought a plancha de pelo! im so happy my spanish is pretty good and people can understand me, it makes me kinda feel better about almost failing spanish all those years. aunty would be proud. then, we went to this AMAZING restaurant. l’oliviera i belike was the name. there was AMAZINGGGGG sangria, not strong but absolutely delicious. my first real sangria, and it was delicious. seriously ive never had better alcohol than i have here. but it was so sos o good. the tapas were divine and everything im pretty sure was under 10 euro each. INSANE. the food here is to die for, especially the seafood. we took a nice walk home and ive never been more proud. the girls are scared of walking at night, which is fair, abut in a group i feel like we’re fine. i dunno, maybe im crazy. 

sunday we didnt do much since it was kinda the eve of la dia de los reyes magos. there was a huge parade but jet lag got the best of us and we ended up passing out for the whole thing. the streets were packed though and im super short so im sure that i didnt miss anything too crazy, im kinda upset about it because i did want the cultural experience, but hey you win some you lose some. 

monday was the holiday but we decided to go to park guell. let me tell you, it was stunning. i cant wait to go back and walk around more and just sit there sometimes. it was a PERFECT beautiful day outside, sun was shining the wild was a slight breeze. the architecture looked fake. it was like a dream land. gaudi never ceases to amaze me and his art work is unreal. i cant wait to see the rest of what hes built, its going to be insane. i wis i would sit there for hours. its absolutely gorgeous. i love my girls here but sometimes we’re not super on the same page. afterwards we went to this AMAZING tapas restaurant. this restaurant is i think my favorite so far, besides the one we went to along the beach, sal cafe. the sangria here was stronger but still good. we were pretty much buzzed all day. i dont think ive laughed so much for so long except with these girls, i kinda hope im fitting in with them! theyre super sweet and normal, and theyre learning about me fast because i dont have time to ease them into the craziness of my family. 

anyways, we then chilled for a little bit, i made dinner for everyone, and we went to opium! in order to program opium we went to this bar where I RAN INTO ALYSSA PAULY AND ETHAN DAN. WHO I HAVENT SEEN SINCE 6TH GRADE AND SINCE BP SOPHEX THIS SUMMER. insane!! we linked with them and we went out. this going out experience costed us no more than the taxi charge, thank god. everything was FREE. we left a little early but nothing to crazy, opium sobered us up a little faster than expected. im glad we got a huge group going though, it was way nicer than going alone. happy about that. we came home aroudn 3:30, kinda like a uiuc night, and had orientation at 11 next morning. i think something funny and notable was on the way back from opium tipsy me loves to blurt out my spanish! the taxi driver LOVED me and told me i had good spanish, no idea if he was being genuine but i was happy about it :) kinda happy about that one. anyways! 

orientation was POINTLESS. we learned nothing, got our IDs and tried to change our classes. weird, but i guess thats how they do it here. i hope i get the class i absolutely need—otherwise im truly screwed. i give that into your hands God. 

i have a long laundry list of things to do today, so im hoping I can get that all done before we hop on over to razzmatazz tonight! i kinda wanna just stay in but i think its a move to go out i guess 

i need wifi now, its like 3:40pm so i think its time i get started on my day, but im happy that i have gotten to explore, be up her eon the rooftop and to just be present and reflect. i think i need more of this soon. i love it here, i really do. 

xx

[kurtty-drabbles]

Evil Movie au (something has to change)

N/A: Enchantress is not a big character for Marvel or me(I did think she was Meggan…) anyway, she´s here for reasons unknown.

@djinmer4 @dannybagpipesarecalling @sailorstar9 @discordsworld @look-ma-no-hands336

Erik Leshner is the master of magnetism. A man that knows how the world can be cruel, and mutants can be still attacked, Charles his longtime friend/rival is too naïve to believe the world will ever be good, then again, Magneto can now, privately, wonder if expect the worse is any better.

A blonde woman with a modelesque figure and an outfit that resembled a cosplay of any RPG game (Lorna once made this commentary and Erik did laugh) and has red painted lips as she is sitting on his desk and has that petulant attitude that resembles Erik that insufferable Loki.

“Enchantress, what are you doing here?” Erik asked bemused and the woman giggles amused at his reaction. The woman flips her blonde hair and speaks with confidence “Oh, Erik dear, is that a way to greet a friend? I´m here to help, of course, your dream to save mutantkind” she speaks and waits for his reaction.

“What do you have for me this time? I´m getting tired, too tired, of assassination plots, of fighting with the X-men” Magneto speaks as Erik for this time and Enchantress giggles again. “No dream will come true without some sacrifices,” she pipes in and once Magneto is sit down she continues.

“The Avengers are the problem, my dear Erik, you see, people fear mutants, the people who fear they are the ones who love the Avengers to the bits of their hearts and mind” Enchantress explained seriously “people love Tony Stark, Captain America and Thor, but, what would happen if a mutant is a shoot? The people in power resent the mutants as they are proof that the old days are over, the racists days where slurs are free to be used” and now Erik is giving his undivided attention. Much to Enchantress´s delight. “Kill the Avengers and the world won´t dare to think on the Sentinels ever again” Enchantress respond with a serious and grim expression as this could really affect her as if Enchantress isn´t an Asgardian woman who can go to any place she wishes to be.

“Then…I´ll do something” Magneto replied strongly “I´ll stop this madness”

“Good choice, Magneto, now, as your friend I must warn you, Scarlet Witch is working with the X-men and Dr Stranger to stop you” She replied and Magneto stops for a moment, one single moment, to reflect on the meaning behind this words. One minute is more than enough to make a judgment “Then Magneto will fight Scarlet Witch if is necessary”

He leaves and Enchantress is smiling deviously. Her plots are coming along perfectly.

The Hellfire is talking as the project Sentinel is being stalled, yet, not cancelled, and Emma Frost and Psylocke are trying to come up with plans, controlling Stryker proves to be impossible as he takes some steps to prevent anyone to enter into his mind.

“Metal in his cranium?” Emma asked still impressed “He prefers to have metal in his head than stop creating a killer robot? Wonderful” states in sarcasm. Raven is present in the meeting as well as her son and Azazel.

“The only thing we can do is terminate the whole fabric” Betsy states joyless “there´s no other alternative, the president´s entourage is dead set in killing all the mutants…waiting for war, well, if they want a war so much” Betsy trails off.

And Kurt shows off his blades “Let´s give them the war they want” the man speaks and when they are on a break, Raven, in her blue form(wearing a uniform) starts talking with Kurt. “Son, I know you are seeing that woman, Kitty, how will she handle the fact you´ll execute a massacre?”

And Kurt´s eyes are too soft for this question. “Not well, mother, but she understands that sometimes we need to fight back to save ourselves…and she´s getting undone with the X-men…Maybe, she can go to the Hellfire” Kurt replied in an inquiry tone with a certain unsure in his tone as well hope.

Raven shakes her head at her son amused. “Someone is in love, huh? Well, we´re humans and trust me I meet your father in the most strange way possible” she points out Azazel who is talking with someone of his friends “And I did meet Irene in a bizarre way too, I´d hope you two stay together and happy son, you deserve” and she kissed his check in a maternal gesture as she is holding guns to cause her own massacre.

Rogue is waiting on the other side of the room. She hugs her mother and gives more details of the X-men. “Mom, they are so focused on Jean and Scott´s wedding, they didn´t notice, I was careful and make copies of those files, now, we know how to defeat each X-men” Rogue states happily looking between her mother and older happy.

“And they never notice such cute spy? For shame” Kurt jokes. Azazel then calls Kurt to talk about something and the blue man goes. Anne Marie Darkholme won´t be an X-men for long.

Kitty Pryde is resting on her bed as she is sleeping with the shirt Kurt borrow to her, well, she snatch the shirt but the elf let her stay anyway. The woman is amused as she´s cuddle with the elf´s shirt so fondly.

Her smiles drop off a bit when her eyes notice an article on a magazine. “Sentinels project? Is still going on?” Kitty asked feeling dread.

Wanda is back to her room and finds Kitty looking afraid, no words are needed, as the magazine has a big picture of the future Sentinel and Wanda hugs Kitty, no words are needed right now. They both feel in the air something is going to change, whatever good or bad. It will change.

#evil movie au #Evil Movie Kurt #kurtty #hit me with kitty/wanda friendship #kitty pryde #Magneto will face the avengers #I guess I will kill Tony Stark #Rogue was a spay this entire time #no one saw that one coming