#'this is a typical high school experience i'm supposed to say yes'

[statusquoergo]

“When I was in high school, a senior asked me out one time. When I was a sophomore.”

“That must have been very exciting for you.”

“I was the stage manager for a play he was in.”

“Were the two of you close?”

“It was about halfway through the year, so we'd been working together for a while, and we were kind of friends, the way that underclassmen think they're friends with seniors because they'll talk to you for more than like ten seconds at a time.”

“How long were you and he together?”

“I was so surprised when he asked me out that I just said I'd think about it, like I was really taking him seriously.”

“Weren't you?”

“Then one of my friends told me he just did it because he was having a fight with his girlfriend. I didn't even know he had a girlfriend. She was in the play, she was a freshman.”

“Isn't that a kick in the teeth.”

“But fit still felt really important for me to let him down gently, like I had to do the whole 'It's not you it's me,' or 'I'm just not ready for this kind of thing' or whatever.”

“He was worth all that trouble?”

“I was really nervous about it. You know, was I really ready to maybe lose him as a friend, would he accept it when I told him no, would he be mad at me, would I...say it right. But then when I finally did it, he just said, 'Oh, that's okay,' you know, no big deal.”

“You must have been terribly embarrassed.”

“He'd already made up with his girlfriend by then, so.”

“You were a bit useless to him, I suppose.”

“I don't know what happened to him after high school.”

“If he's anything like the rest of us, he's probably suffering a bit.”

“I hope so.”

“Goodness, aren't you?”

[five-thousand-loaves-of-bread]

Hello 👋 I have been offered the option of volunteering at an assisted living facility for people with high support needs and medium support needs autism. The people who live at the hostel go to a care center during the day but are at the hostel in the afternoon and night and the staff at the hostel does the general stuff of helping them out around the house. That being said when I went to the hostel they explained that they use an ABA based approach of interacting with the residents in a way that according to them is supposed to teach them important communication skills such as pointing to pictures if there is a problem to explain what it is or to wave to get someones attention instead of grabbing them.

From what I heard ABA is wildly considered abusive but the people on staff argued that it is different with medium and high support needs autism. My question is: from your experience can aba be positive? Would you say that it's inherently abusive? Is it different for people with low support needs and medium/high? (I'm sending this to multiple blogs who talk about the topic a lot so you may see this ask multiple times, sorry bout that)

oh yeah this nuanced topic i definitely need answer because find other people say binary “yes” or “no” both not helpful.

obvious trigger warn for ABA, detail talk of abusive ABA

low support needs = LSN, higher support needs = HrSN

TLDR: yes and no

ABA is highly controversial and nuanced topic. if ask most allistic professionals and allistic Autism Parents, most will tell you no (as in ABA never abusive). if ask actually autistic community, including those never been in ABA, most will tell yes (as in ABA always abusive).

personally think is a mix of “it can be,” and wrote more about here, but summary is: ABA can be very abusive, many ABA survivor abused by it. historically been very abusive (old school ABA), many places it still is now, but some places start to change. but saying “oh we do the good ABA” doesn’t mean they not abusive. some ABA survivors (who got ABA in past & present) say they not abused it helped, some say it both helped and abused, some just abused. so i find helpful always high alert when talk about ABA and watch carefully if use ABA.

summary of what i hear of bad ABA: force eye contact, force masking, quiet hands, behaviorally erase autistic/“problematic” trait (but neglect inside feelings & emotions & thought processes). block escape (physically or psychologically), don’t allow leave don’t allow stop task until finish. tech compliance. food reinforcers and planned withholding of needs & key things (like emotional support stuffed animal or affection). see meltdown sensory overload crying as attention seeking so need ignore (instead of see it as pain response as need help as not able communicate before it get bad). typically only value mouth speech and ignore all other communication like behaviors and pointing (“to encourage mouth speech”but is shitty way of doing it) but also can happen with PECS (inherent ABA shitty system) or even AAC devices. often have token chart and discrete trial training (DTT).

summary of what i hear or personal experience of good ABA: teach skills*, like bADLs iADLs self advocacy etc. naturalistic learning. modeling behaviors. functional communication. value receivers (person getting ABA) input if they can communicate. more comparisons

*beware, good ABA focus on teach skill but can still “teach skill” with abusive technique. good ABA need teach functional life skill but teach skill doesn’t inherent make ABA good ABA.

some may argue good ABA isn’t ABA because fundamental ABA principle don’t allow it. personally see where this come from (see: ivar lovaas) but since many who use good ABA techniques still call self ABA, and sometimes it’s “ABA or else,” i focus on harm reduction.

but it also not “there is good ABA and there is bad ABA and good ABA good bad ABA bad.” some place do mix of technique from both—which still make them abusive, but it not like “if i do some good technique i am all good ABA.” good ABA hard to maintain and is active effort to continue because so many of field historically and now is abusive. it just easier explain that way.

don’t think there any technique that, if use on LSN is abusive, but if same thing use on HrSN suddenly not abusive. it sound like very ableist idea. we not that different we may have harder time understand we may have harder time communicate, but we still have feelings. (some of us not understand at all not able words communicate at all, i not one of them obviously but i think may even be worse for them because they don’t understand why you do that why they feel bad or even understand what they feel and can’t words tell feel bad only behavior. but obviously this me guess since am not one of them)

sort of extreme example but it remind me of (wrong) idea that e.g people with severe & profound ID, no person inside no mind inside so akin to dog training just need focus on behavior

as for personal experience, do have personal experience with ABA and not really ready talk about, but in summary: currently am more address immediate urgent thing so may change when we get to routine day skill. but overall good experience very much help very listened to no abuse life saver without it would be in big trouble. but this also because 1) able communicate already can say what want/don’t want, 2) adult own guardian can decide own, 3) progressive area with better healthcare available, 4) now and not 10 or 5 or even 2 year ago.

you specifically mention point to pictures. AAC really should be SLP (speech therapists) territory but SLP field heavily connect with ABA & behavioralism and many ABA places do deal with communication so… yeah.

examples of good & bad ways handle teach below because this get long

bad example:

you want juice. you lead them to fridge. you may even point to (real life) juice. they don’t give you juice and instead say “use your words!” or something.

you want juice. you do gesture (not signs) of cup, or drink, or whatever. they know what you talk about because you done many times, they don’t give you juice. or even if they don’t know what you talk about, they ignore you (instead of respond to behavior communication).

you want juice. you given a board of these pictures and words in squares, eat drink juice fruit chips cookie etc etc. you confused. no one ever show you what do with it. you meltdown from frustrate.

you want juice. you try all above. no one respond. you meltdown from frustrate. you labeled as have behavioral issues and that meltdown came from nowhere, you labeled as can’t be helped

you want juice. you try all above. only way people actually respond and give you juice is: you get to velcro wall of picture cards. you identify “juice” symbol from all other symbols. you have fine motor skill to take “juice” symbol off from wall. then you go to adult person. you make eye contact with them for period of some seconds while calmly give them juice card. you may or may not be encouraged or even have to mouth say word “juice.” then you finally get juice.

not abusive per se but also not great example

you want juice. you have to stop what doing and go get your device or communication book (or other person go get), then you can point to juice. your words not available to you all the time or you have to ask for them. (know communication books and picture card walls often bulky and hard carry everywhere and don’t have great solution but still ideally words available all time)

good example:

you want juice. let go back to the point to fridge and real life juice example. you point. the helper person/therapist/etc see and mouth say “do you want juice?” and model on AAC device or communicate book “want” “juice” (model without expectations). then they give juice. and they repeat modeling in all situations without expect them immediate respond to AAC or expect them will respond in x weeks etc. just model as part of communication.) more on modeling

random grab people can be frustrate for other people and not most effective way communicate and should try best give more way communicate, but also need understand that behavior is communicate, and many “extreme” and “problematic” behavior happen probably because no other way know communicate or all other way communicate accidentally ignore. so should respect it and see it for it purpose & teach functional communicate same time. (not saying you don’t understand this just is something i see many people forget so feel need talk about every time)

[potato-jem]

i am assuming as is the usual way that it’s exaggerated, but, just as someone who has a completely limited knowledge of Australia and Australian culture…how far off is the show from a typical experience?

although also i don’t even know (or remember, if they mentioned it) what part of Australia this is supposed to be set in…

<3<3

hello v :D

i would say that while, yes of course the show is exaggerated for the purpose of tv, it is a pretty generalised representation of the australian culture, especially for east sydney where it takes place (i'm not from east sydney, but from my experiences in sydney, it seems legit)

i can't speak for towns in the outback or in more rural areas, but a typical city high school is like heartbreak high. also depending on the state, because some states are slightly more conservative than others.

also, it would hard to find a school without a school uniform, so that is a big difference, obviously for the sake of the show.

ugh i love this little show - it's so cool to finally have some good tv from my country <3

[casspurrjoybell-23]

LOST and FOUND - Chapter 10 - Part 4

*Warning Adult Content*

"Do you forgive me?" he whispered against my head.

"I don't know yet," I said against his chest.

"You have some explaining to do. I feel like I don't even know you now. Are you straight and just trying out the gay experience? You were with a woman right?"

He rubbed circles on my back.

"I'm bisexual but yes... I was married to a woman. Her name is Heather. We dated in high school..."

"And I bet she was the head cheerleader while you were the hot captain of the baseball team," I sneered and Jona was silent.

"Typical."

"May I finish?" he asked, slightly sarcastically.

He sounded like he wanted to give me a good, hard spanking.

My ass tingled at the thought.

I nodded and he continued.

"We dated in high school, broke up for year when we started college, but ended up getting back together. After we graduated college and felt like our lives were in order, we got married and had Katie. I think after Katie is when I realized maybe we weren't meant to be together after all. Having a child together created a lot of animosity between us but we both loved Katie and that kept us together."

"Five years later we had Ethan. I think it was our last effort to see if it would fix our marriage but it didn't. We never talked about feelings with each other, Heather was never good at expressing herself. We actually stayed together until Ethan was seven but I found out that she had been cheating on me for years and I was just finished after that."

"I had stayed in that awful marriage for our kids but I wasn't going to be walked all over. So I left, got a divorce, made sure I had rights to see my kids even though she fought it. We've been divorced for ten years."

I sighed and leaned up to kiss him.

He seemed caught off guard but kissed me back.

I pulled away and said...

"I'm still not happy. You've got some extreme sucking up to do."

He narrowed his eyes slightly and said...

"You really want to talk that way to Daddy?"

I bit my lip, wanting him to flip me over and pound me into the bed.

But I mentally scolded myself, his son was here.

"Well, Daddy, your son is here and I told him I was waking you up. Maybe you can punish me later," I said, smiling cheekily.

He growled and kissed me hard.

I kissed back for a moment before I pushed away.

I hopped out of bed and put some pants on and my own shirt.

"Coffee is ready, by the way."

I then swayed my hips back and forth and walked out of the bedroom.

I found Ethan in the kitchen putting about a cup of creamer into his mug of coffee.

"Save some for me," I said.

I hated coffee but if the kid was drinking it, I was going to force myself to drink it too...I might need more creamer than him.

He smiled shyly at me and set the creamer down.

"My dad... didn't tell you about me, did he?"

"What?" I asked with wide eyes.

"You seemed to have no idea who I was when I walked in. I figured he didn't tell you about me," he answered and stared down at his full mug.

Oh fuck... what was I supposed to say to that?

I fiddled with the hem of my t-shirt and thought of what to say.

"Your dad fucked up," I finally said.

He looked over at me with wide eyes.

Maybe I shouldn't have sworn but I was running with it.

"He wasn't... ashamed of you or anything. He was afraid I would run off before I even got to know him. And he's probably right. I'm not that much older than you."

"You do look really young."

He nodded.

"He said you were younger but he never said how much."

"So see, he kept secrets from the both of us. He should be groveling at our feet."

I smirked.

Ethan laughed and then looked down at his coffee.

Then Jona walked into the kitchen.

He smiled at the both of us but Ethan and I each gave him a glare.

He laughed at that, probably knowing that I was no threat.

He came over to us, putting one arm around my shoulders and the other around Ethan's.

"You guys don't know how happy I am that you're finally meeting."

He turned and kissed the side of my head.

"We could've met sooner, if you weren't such a sneaky liar," I sing-songed.

"Exactly," Ethan said, looking at me with a smile.

"Okay, okay. So I screwed up. Are you guys going to forgive me?" Jona asked, looking between the both of us.

I put a finger to my chin and tapped it.

"What do you think, Ethan? Shouldn't he do something for us?"

Ethan grinned at me.

"I think he should take us to that new action movie and buy us all the candy and popcorn that we want."

"Perfect," I exclaimed.

"What do you think, Daddy?" I said and immediately covered my mouth.

Ethan's eyes were wide but mine were probably wider.

Jona let go of our shoulders and doubled over with laughter.

"Okay, ew," Ethan said but he was smiling.

"Maybe keep that, to your kinky selves."

I just nodded quickly, feeling mortified.

"Agreed."

Jona tried to catch his breath after his laughing fit.

I smiled at the both of them and realized I was happier than I had been in a really long time.

This moment even beat last night with Jona.

It was so nice to be around people and feel happy.

"So, a movie?" Jona asked when he'd calmed down.

"Yeah and popcorn," Ethan and I said at the same time.

"Meet you at the car, old man," Ethan said and wrapped an arm around my shoulders before guiding me out of the kitchen.

I smiled even wider.

This was amazing.

Ethan started talking about himself and asking questions about me as well.

He laughed at my self deprecating humor and I chuckled when he joked too.

We walked outside and out to the car and Jona quickly followed, telling us to wait up.

I felt... I felt like I had a family again.

[mimzy-writing-online]

You probably know this by now, I don't know if you keep up with Whumptober, but one of the prompts this year includes "blindness". I'm not blind but based on your posts about writing blind characters, and based on how I would feel if one of my disabilities were used as a whump prompt, I'm not super comfortable with it. I was wondering what your thoughts are on blindness being a Whumptober prompt.

(unironically and with feeling) thanks, I hate it.

Yes, I’m familiar with Whumptober, but I’ve never participated myself and I haven’t seen this year’s prompts.

Edit: I later did see the prompts and check out the blog. I think it's a good set of prompts and I look forward to all the promising content, especially since some of my favorite tropes are there. To be clear before you read this, I have no problem with Whumptober2021 or whump in general. This is not the first time blindness has been included for a list of whump prompts, and it won't be the last.

This post directed at the concept of "blindness" as a whump prompt and why I think it's a bad idea. The intended audience is individual writers thinking about future projects.

The timing of this is almost too perfect because I read a fanfic earlier this week that would meet that prompt exactly. Tags included whump, blindness, and angst with a happy ending. Now whump, hurt/comfort, and angst with a happy ending are tags I enjoy reading, but blindness as whump has a specific message to it.

To explain that message, I want to discuss what whump is. Many readers are already familiar with the genre, but I think taking the specific definitions and picking apart what it means and what expectations we carry when reading whump fanfiction

Urban Dictionary defines it as: taking a character and putting them through physical and/or mental torment and is typically followed by the same character being treated for their traumas. To indicate the characters place in the situation they’d typically be called a whumpee (the character being hurt/comforted), the whumper (the character that causes harm and trauma), and the caretaker (the character designated the helping/healing/comforting the whumpee).

Fanlore has a page for whump that explains it in depth, including where it started in fanfiction, examples of whump, and even a list of “popular targets” in different fandoms. (Warning: you might find yourself called out on the popular targets list)

“The term whump (or whumping) generally refers to a form of Hurt/Comfort that is heavy on the hurt and is often found in gen stories. The exact definition varies and has evolved over time. Essentially, whump involves taking a canon character, and placing them in physically painful or psychologically-damaging scenarios. Often this character is a fan favorite…”

To add to that, I think an important detail is the distinction Fanlore makes between hurt/comfort and whump:

“While some communities and fandoms may use whump as a synonym for hurt/comfort, there is still a recognition that whump refers to darker and more extreme scenarios. And there are still whump fics been written that have very little, or no comfort at the end of the story.”

The big appeal of hurt/comfort is getting to both explore the darker sides of pain and then experience the catharsis of being taken care of, of being supported by your loved ones as you recover from the trauma. The character is the proxy for experiencing those highs and lows while you yourself are safe at home.

I personally don’t read much/any whump without some h/c involved, but I’m happy there are stories out there for people who do enjoy it. I’m not here to judge what you like reading or what you do to your characters.

What I want is to express how blindness, my disability, used as a whump prompt personally makes me feel and what message it sends to me, to others, and how that message affects my daily life.

Whump undeniably involves watching a character suffer through something painful and traumatic.

My use of the word “suffer” is what I want you to focus on.

Vision loss can be painful and traumatic. I personally developed an anxiety disorder in response to vision loss. Others experience depression. For some it might result in relapsing into old, maladaptive coping mechanisms like drug use, self harm, or eating disorders.

A big part of my anxiety was how people reacted to my vision loss. It was a cause of their stress. They were worried because they genuinely believed I would never live a happy life without normal vision, and that my life would only be struggle and pain.

I recently saw an old friend who hadn’t heard about my vision loss. The conversation was awkward, but the worst part was how they reacted as though I had experienced an insurmountable tragedy. And even when I assured them I’m happy with my life, they clearly didn’t believe me. They acted like I was just lying or in denial.

I love that people want to empathize with my situation and ask themselves what they would do in my situation, but I hate when the conclusion they come to is something along the lines of “I could never do that, I’d be too miserable thinking about everything I lost, I’d never be able to do anything I enjoyed ever again.” But I did go blind. And I’m not miserable, I’m actually happy with the direction my life is going, and I still enjoy my hobbies, even if I engage with them differently.

I’m not suffering. My life didn’t end with vision loss. It’s not ruined, broken, or worthless.

I read a fanfic that was tagged with whump, blindness, and angst with a happy ending. A general synopsis of the plot: the whumpee had gone blind due to a curse. It was true love’s kiss that broke the curse. Even from the summary I knew it was going to end with whumpee being cured somehow and that I’d leave that fanfic vaguely dissatisfied no matter how good the rest of the fanfic was.

I can say this for the fanfic: the whumpee had already accepted that they would likely be blind for the rest of their life, but everyone around them was treating it as a tragedy that needed to be fixed, working tirelessly for a cure despite the whumpee’s protests that they didn’t have to.

It actually hit home to my personal experience.

I still left it dissatisfied with the ending. I might love curse fics in that fandom, and I love the “true love’s kiss” trope, but it wasn’t enough to distract me from the fact that: an actual person out in the world thought the best happy ending, maybe the only happy ending, would be if the character got their sight back.

(note: I clicked kudos and exited out of the story's page because no fanfic writer deserves unsolicited critique or hate, especially for content I consumed for free and at my own volition.)

Why read a story I knew would disappoint me?

Because blindness representation is so damn rare that I feel like I’m wandering in a desert, dying from thirst and desperate for that oasis. But sometimes that oasis is a mirage and the author is unintentionally telling you that your life is actually awful and you’ll never be fully happy like this. And that is a shit mentality to walk through life with.

I don’t appreciate blindness being a whump plot. I hate it. Hundreds (thousands?) of fanfictions featuring blind characters are about to enter the internet and the overall message is going to be “You poor thing! You must be in so much pain, you must be miserable! Who’s going to save you? Who’s going to comfort you? Wouldn’t it be terrible if there was no one in your life to take care of you? You poor helpless thing!”

And I feel objectified. I feel trivialized. The mirage in the desert is going to become a starch, empty room filled with dozens of water bottles, almost all of them poisoned. My representation is going to hurt me personally, and it’s going to reinforce that idea strangers have about how awful my life must be.

(I returned to school this past month, and every day I’m hesitant to tell someone I’m visually impaired because I don’t want to be treated differently. If I’ve managed to pass as sighted this whole time and then suddenly reveal “oh yeah, I’m visually impaired” I feel this instant silence, this pause of awkwardness as people suddenly question how they’re supposed to treat me. They treated me like a person, and now I’m something strange and unfamiliar.)

I’ve worked so hard to improve representation for blind people, to give internet strangers the exposure to a blind person they need to normalize blindness because I hope that if they’re ever so lucky as to meet a blind person, they’ll treat that person with respect. That hope that another person in the blind community will find a friend they feel comfortable and accepted with. I hope that I’ll meet people who accept my blindness as just another aspect of me (like being bisexual or gender fluid or a writer or a cat lover).

Please don’t turn me and my community into a caricature. Don’t erase everything I’ve worked for with this blog.

To be clear, this is not just me saying "I hate the cure trope" again. This is me saying "the purpose of whump is to painfully hurt your favorite character, and I hate that your idea of pain and suffering is my daily (wonderful) life."

[latuuart]

That post you shared about information reminded me about myself in elementary/high school with my friends. They all knew these types of slangs and references, certain inappropriate things. I grew up in a household where my parents immigrated from Portugal, so I wouldn’t say there your typical North/North American family (not at all dissing some families parenting or anything. But let me tell you it surprised me how much free reign some kids had of just being able to go to friend’s house or anywhere while just letting their parents know. And I did grow a little jealous honestly because I legitimately had to plan hangouts because planning on the same day was “too soon.” Which hindered me on hanging out as often with them and making excuses. But I guess I’m the end it humbled me.) Anyway… whenever I would ask what certain things meant they’d give me weird looks, like I was SUPPOSED to know. And they wouldn’t really say anything and be like “your to innocent to know” or some other remark which frustrated me to no end. I know it may seem maybe weird to ask these things, but sometimes Google doesn’t answer some of these questions at the time. I also was extremely forgetful so if just forget to look into it later. Now as I’m older I am able to utilize different sources and how to look certain things up. But it’s like, people ask for a reason, not everyone grew up the same way. Thanks for sharing that post, it was an interesting read!

Thank you for sharing your experience with me. I enjoy reading that as I was experiencing the same thing as well.

About knowing certain slangs or inappropriate words and being able to go to a friend's house without telling parents first or telling them on the same day you go, I'm the same with you 😁

I was in a private elementary school, then I continued to a public junior high school. They're just different types of school but I already felt the differences regarding the students and the cultures there. Same as you, I didn't even know some slangs or inappropriate words/references that these students used in my public junior high school. And when I asked, I got similar answer with you from my friends; "you're too innocent to know", "search it on your own". I was surprised too that these kids could go to anywhere after school without their parents' permission and could even come back at home at late night (they're only 12-15 years old), while I was already scolded by my parents when I came back home at 6 PM 😅

My point is, even just different types of school (or different countries in your case) could make such different cultures and upbringings. And we're expecting people from another continent to act or understand everything that we do or speak in our country? I'm not excusing people to be ignorant. However, rather than expecting people to "know already", critical cultural relativism is much more important to me. Instead of judging why this person still not know about something that we think should've been known based on our standards, or why they act and think differently from us, it's always better to try to understand their action and their way of thinking based on how they were raised or where they come from.

Moreover, how can we search something on Google if we don't know what to search? If we don't even know the issue, then what to search? How could it cross our minds? Internet is very accessible right now, but when I was a teenager, it was still not widely used, some people still didn't even have a phone. Even now, how can we know about something/issue that we never talked about in our surroundings? I always have a mindset, before expecting people to know everything about my country or cultures, I stop myself and ask; "do I know everything about their country/cultures?" If I don't then I avoid being so judgmental towards them. We all are the same here, on the same level, there's no superiority here.

Educate ourselves, yes. But when people genuinely ask, rather than pointing a finger and saying "educate yourself!", why don't just share? :)

[fayeimara]

Meant To Be Series || One For Every Billion

6. By My Side | Pt 1

- July 20th -

The park is as close to empty as it can be when your group arrives early in the morning. Since you've been staying with the Kageyamas, you drive up with Miwa and Tobio, meeting up with your mutual cousins, Ren and Shin, at the entrance to the park's hotel.

You've all made sure to capitalize on early access passes and are staying overnight to make the most of your time, so everyone drops off their things first before deciding what to do in the time you all have before the park opens to all regular pass holders.

The rest of you are just waiting on Miwa to meet you all back in the lobby from her room (she takes the longest, honestly) and you're pulling on the thigh-length sleeveless cardigan you grabbed to wear over your shorts and tank combo, when you finally hear her voice as she crosses from the elevator bay to your group by the doors.

"Okay kiddos, I'm off to the adults only section of this place so call me if you need anything. But try not to, you know?"

Well, Miwa is the eldest of the group here and you're sure she only came along because her best friend decided they could make a mini girls' vacation out of it and brought along her own younger siblings as an excuse.

Tobio looks a little frustrated when he replies, "Neesan, it's way to early in the morning to find a bar."

"Are you kidding me? Of course I'm not drinking. Yet. We're just going to the theme spa!" She happily exclaims, waving her hand in the air delicately, "So you know, try not to get lost or get hurt, because I don't want you interrupting some serious r and r."

Ren rolls his eyes at his cousins' interaction, as if he's any better. You're well aware he also already has plans to ditch the rest of your group when his friends arrive. Thankfully Shin interrupts before Tobio's easy temper is tripped.

"Hey let's hit up the new coaster! I want to see Tobi throw up!"

Okay, not helping. But you do want to try the new roller coaster, as well, you're a huge fan of any adrenaline inducing activities and there are only so many times you can try the ones back home before you're used to all the dips and twists. This new one is supposed to have the highest drop record internationally so far.

"Tobio you won't throw up, right?" You try to coax him to agreeing, "I think you'll enjoy it!"

He gives you a dry look as if to say, You didn't put any effort into that. So you shrug and decide to bribe him, "I'll buy you milk after."

He contemplates it for a moment before nodding. Success, as usual.

Miwa claps her hands together in excitement, "Perfect! Okay, so I've given Y/n the contacts for Eiko's sister and brothers. They're around here somewhere so please take some time to say hi. Tobio already knows Hikaru and Hiroshi so I'm sure you'll all get along great!"

Before any of you have time to respond, she's bounced off, presumptively towards the waterpark and spa area. Okay then, you turn back to your cousins with a big smile that only Shin returns, making him your favourite of the day. You're all for the deadpan look when you're bored or annoyed but you're actually so happy to be here, you love amusement parks.

"So... let's hit some coasters?"

"Yeah!" Surely, you can all guess who answers.

After spending about an hour hitting up several of the most popular rides and possibly traumatizing Tobio before the main rush of people arrive in the park, you get a buzz from your phone, sitting tight against your waist in an inner zippered pocket of your cardigan, with your cash and cards. It's really a pain to have to carry bags and even more so to have to stress about having it stolen so, being an avid coaster enthusiast, you like to keep your items simple on days like this.

Quickly moving out and to the side of the exit line to pull out your phone, you see a notification from Hana, the girl who is Miwa's friend's little sister.

, You look up and find your cousins also stopped when you @sakusasimpbot anding right by you. Thank god, you didn't want to have to drag them back here if they'd wandered away to the next ride.

"Hana and her brothers are on this ride so I told her we'd wait for them here."

Ren is typing on his phone but speaks up, "I'm about to head out to meet up with my friends." Finally finished with his own chat, he looks up at the rest of you, "Will you guys be okay from here? We can meet back for lunch."

Tobio just shrugs while you nod, Shin speaking for everyone when he tells his brother, "Yeah, yeah. Just go already, the 'real' adult already ditched us a while back so no need to act all mature here."

"Shut up, Shin." Ren returns his brother's smirk with a glare, which slides back into his expressionless gaze after he rolls his eyes and faces you and Tobio.

"We'll be fine, Ren, we're all in the same place and can call if anything." Your turn to reassure him where Shin clearly failed to even try.

Ren studies you for a moment before turning and throwing a casual, "..'kay." over his shoulder. You're sure you, Tobio, and Shin all share a mutual eye roll at that.

Shin has pulled up the park map on his phone, looking for a place where your group might want to grab a snack or drink, when the next line of people exit the ride.

Linking your arm with Tobio, you scan for a girl and two guys that look around your age. It's not hard because there really still aren't many people in this area of the park yet and the guys in question make an immediate beeline for the three of you when they lock eyes with Tobio. Right, since they know him already.

Hana is a pretty brunette with a bright smile on her face and you can immediately tell she's a fellow coaster enthusiast, if not adrenaline junkie, because of that wild happy look in her eyes.

Just as their group reaches yours, you smile back at her and say, "It's a really good one, right?"

"Yes!" She happily exclaims, "I felt like I was flying off the seat!"

You laugh at her enthusiasm, "Exactly, completely weightless."

Tobio introduces you and Shin to Hiroshi and Hikaru, who immediately tell you both to just call them Hiro and Karu. The two brothers have a relaxed vibe to them as well and, you swear, Karu and Shin click instantly. Not surprising, since they have a very similar outgoing and playful vibe, although you can attest from personal experience that Shin is probably the more mischievous and troublesome one. Karu has more of a happy and fun feel, if you're reading him correctly.

Hiro is equally nice and outgoing, with a slightly more chill personality that offsets Tobio's quiet intensity pretty well.

Hana is amazing and your first impression of her is only improved as you all sit down and talk over refreshing drinks at an outdoor café. She reminds you a lot of one of your friends back home, Aspen, in that down to earth and cheery kind of way so you immediately feel a sense of familiarity with her.

You find out that the siblings are each about a year apart, which coincidentally lines them up with Shin, you, and Tobio respectively. You had a feeling Miwa and her friend were pushing all of you to hang out here together for a reason. You definitely think she wanted her brother to spend time with a friend, especially after how tough things had been for him at school and with his club lately.

You look over at him when Hana briefly interjects into his and Hiro's conversation, completely relaxed for now with a bottle of cold milk in his hands. Yeah. He catches you looking and blinks in surprising, honestly shocking you when he returns your smile to him with a very small one of his own. You haven't seen him smile for quite a while, at least not the past several weeks you've been staying with his family. Probably not since the last time you saw him about a year and a half ago.

Oh, Tobio, you think as you look away to study the people passing by, I hope you're okay. He was always serious and direct, even as a little kid, but he never hesitated to smile when he felt happy. Does that mean he hasn't felt happy lately? For how long?

You have to shelf your concern away so you don't dampen the mood of this trip for everyone. Looking back to the others to make sure they're all finished up, you ask, "What do we want to do next?"

"None of us have tried these ones across the park," Shin speaks up, "So maybe make a circle this way back around?"

You catch Hana's disappointed expression just before she wipes it away and says, "I was hoping to try the new one, it's supposed to be exhilarating!"

"They already went on it, Hana." Karu gently replies but you shake your head and say, "Sure, but I loved it. I'd be really happy to go again!"

"Really?"

"Yeah! Why don't we split up? If the guys actually start from the other side of the circuit they planned, we should catch up to them in no time and group back up."

Karu and Hiro exchange looks and shrug, Karu stating, "I'm okay with that if you guys stick together and message us updates so we know you're safe and also don't miss each other as the park fills up more." He looks to your cousins and asks, "What about you guys? What do you think?"

Tobio's still looking at where you pointed out your plan of action on the map displayed from Shin's phone but it's really Shin who you have to make sure agrees. After all, Tobio is younger than you by a year, but Shin is older than you by that same length. Even though it's never something you think any of you typically consider, you remember the little incident last summer where he got chewed out by Ren and hope he's not decided to be a little more strict with you.

You catch him looking at you with a sardonic gleam in his eye and realize both your thoughts are probably very aligned. If he does decide to veto your idea, it won't be because he believes he needs to be strict, it'll be purely out of his innate need to torment you. Ugh.

"Okay," What? Ahh, now you're even more suspicious but it sounds like he's accepting your plan, "keep the sound on your phone high though, and call immediately if there's an emergency."

Yeah, sure, at this point you have a line of people who've told you to call them right away but if he hasn't considered that, you're not saying it.

So instead, you brightly agree, "Of course!" earning a doubtful look from him.

Oh well. You reach for Hana but she's already grabbing your hand instead and you both rush away to the new ride calling over your shoulder, "See you later!"

You both ignore whatever they call out after the two of you, giggling and debating where you want to sit on the ride instead.

"Y/n!" You hear a familiar voice call out your name in excitement just as you both reach the line up for the first ride and you feel butterflies take flight in your stomach, spreading electric tingles through you with the flutter of their delicate wings. Wow. Well, you know even before you turn around who it's going to be.

Prev | Next

Masterlist

Behind The Scenes!

-Y/n and Toru can really dance around the things they really want to talk about, even when some things are called out directly by both...

-Y/n doesn't always catch herself calling him 'Toru' out loud (or over text even), clearly that's what she calls him in her head <3 but she usually is aware of what name she's using when she speaks it out loud, or she just avoids calling him directly at all

-But much like when she says 'I'm sorry Toru' in that 4th panel, it happens... she didn't realize it, it was just a heartfelt apology that she was trying to genuinely express

-She won't say she wasn't expecting him to ask to spend his birthday with her, even if they've messaged constantly for the past year

-Which is why she felt so bad when he reached out about it early in the month... and why she wasn't focused on how she addressed him... but then calls him Oikawa in the next panel

-He notices all the slips, whether he teases comments or not

-Tobio and roller coasters... :'D

A/N: Hmm, I wonder who this new person could be... lmao, hope you guys have liked part one so far, the ride only gets wilder from here ;)

Taglist: @delusivist, @prettyinblack231, @kac-chowsballs, @sakusasimpbot, @hawkthekinnie

[the-overgrowth]

Please don't read this ask as combative, I'm just genuinely curious. How do you justify the age difference between Sidra and Val? I know you said Val is technically a teenager/young adult in fae years but isn't that the same justification a lot of immortal/mortal pairings use? (Like Twilight with Edward being "frozen" at 17.) The fact is that Val's lived literally 200+ years more than her and that has to color the experience divide, right? Is there a way authors CAN make these age gaps work?

No worries! I think it’s a good question and gives me an opportunity to clarify some stuff! I should preface this by saying that it’s totally ok if people aren’t comfy with the “young woman paired with ancient magical dude” trope that’s common in fantasy nowadays. It’s not for everyone and that’s fine. I’ve tried to make my take on it more morally palatable, but if it doesn’t work you, then it doesn’t work for you.

Putting this under a cut because it got long, oops.

Val isn’t “frozen,” he literally ages 10 times slower than Sidra, including mentally and emotionally. 50-year-old fae are the equivalent of 5-year-old children. Val being 223 is basically him being in his early twenties, barely mature enough by fae standards to be considered an adult. So while Val has been an adult longer than Sidra has been alive, from her perspective, Val has also been an official “adult” for like, 2-3 years, from his perspective. He also doesn’t see Sidra as being 2 years old, he sees her as being similar to himself in age, as a young adult. In fact, it fucks him up a little that she’s a fully grown person when she’s the same technical “age” as a toddler. The same way it fucks Sidra up that he’s still alive. He can’t wrap his head around how “quick” humans are. To him, growing a mind and a body and a personality takes centuries and she did it in two decades? Weird. Gross.

I should also mention that while yes, technically the sheer amount of stuff he’s seen is more than what Sidra has, the fae also perceive time differently than humans as a result of their immortality. So he doesn’t necessarily retain all of the stuff he’s lived through, or it doesn’t affect him the same way it might affect a young developing human.

However, this is all details compared to what I think is the most important thing in cases like these: framing.

In the case of Twilight, the framing emphasizes how Edward is mature and has been through high school and college multiple times, how he knows and understands more than Bella. His age is written as adding to his power, his allure. He doesn’t consider himself a teenager, and neither do his vampire peers. In every way but physical, he’s an ancient adult. It’s supposed to be intriguing that an older, intelligent and beautiful man would find a plain teenager attractive, and his age is used to reinforce his power and dominance.

If Edward perpetually had the mind of an actual 17-year-old instead of being “physically” 17 and mentally 109 or however old he is, I think Twilight would have the opposite problem of Bella eventually dating a teenager as she grows older unless she turns into a vampire. That’s sort of touched on in the books but it doesn’t go much further beyond “I will be a wrinkly old woman and you’ll be hot forever!” because, again, Edward already had Bella beat in the “life experience” department, and would still have that over her even as she grew older.

In the case of ACOTAR, it’s a similar thing. I don’t recall if it’s ever explained how the fae mature, but I do know that Rhys has been “waiting” for Feyre before she was even born? Like, the mating bond paired him up with a human infant at some point? And he has to wait for her to become an adult before they can boink? Same with Jacob and Renesmee. That’s just straight up magical grooming, fam. These men are adults for an extremely long time while they wait for their younger partner to catch up and become legal, often not even letting her live a life independently before they marry and have babies. These men become their partners’ lives.

In my case, Val’s age is framed against a backdrop of much older fae who patronize, belittle and insult him because he’s a young man poking his fingers into things that he’s too naïve to understand, according to them. This on its own doesn’t automatically solve the age difference, but he’s not framed as having power over Sidra, he’s not considered one of the oldest and most powerful fae, he’s not held up by the narrative as an older man who somehow, against his better judgment, is lusting over someone much younger than him because she’s just so mature and full of life and special. His age isn’t held up as a mark of experience and maturity and power. It’s just a thing that marks him as different from Sidra, on a magical worldbuilding level.

The younger party is also important. Are they inexperienced and naïve? Are they a young sheltered teenager, only now entering their first ever romantic/sexual relationship? Are they entering this relationship without any prior knowledge of who they are and what they want from life and a relationship with this person? Is this adult their first and only entry point to adult life in general? (Not saying you need to have multiple partners before you can find “The One” or anything, but having a frame of reference and knowing what you want out of life and the relationship is important IMO.)

Sidra doesn’t see Val as superior to her, she doesn’t think he’s above her and that she doesn’t “deserve him” or that he’s too good and cool for her, that she’s somehow not enough because she’s younger. She sees him as an equal, which makes any attempt at pulling the age/experience card pretty meaningless, because she doesn’t believe he knows what’s best in any given situation just because of his age. She doesn’t see him as an authority on most things and doesn’t consider herself below him in most things, either. She has already built a solid understanding of who she is and what she wants (or doesn’t want, at least). One of the first things that happens in the book is her rejecting a man because she realizes that she doesn’t want for herself what he wants for her.

And while yes, Val does eventually become a large part of her life and helps her figure out what she wants and needs and what she wants to become, she does the same thing for him. He isn’t a jaded old man taken with a pretty young thing who brings light back into his life or some other cishet-white-man nonsense, he’s young and stupid too and she helps him realize what he wants and who he wants to be. And they don’t do this on purpose to each other, it just happens through their interactions. Even if it were one-sided Val simply doesn’t have the maturity and experience to essentially “groom” Sidra into anything. Plus, they don’t get married and have children at the end (spoilers, I guess). They’re not bound to each other the same way many YA fantasy books often “bind” their young protags to their much older love interests (mating bonds, marriage, kids etc). Sidra still has the choice and ability to leave him whenever she likes and she’s fully aware of it.

That being said, my solution isn’t perfect and tbh I don’t think there is one? But this is fantasy, mortal-immortal pairings will always have weird dynamics because they’re not real and everyone makes up their own reference for how they should or shouldn’t work. Things like these will be subjective, and as long as the characters involved are adults, are making informed decisions and don’t have significant power imbalances because of their age difference, I think it can work! 

(The target demographic is also very important I think. Impressionable teens shouldn’t read things that make adult men attractive or desirable. My target demographic is a bit older than that and I hope most of my future readers will have enough sense and independent thinking to know not to imitate fiction. Plus, again, I’m not playing on or emphasizing the typical age gap power dynamic.)

Hope this answered your question!

[douchebagbrainwaves]

WHY I'M SMARTER THAN MONEY

Are there zero users who really love you, all you have to assume there was someone born in Milan with as much natural ability as Leonardo couldn't beat the force of environment, do you suppose you can? And now that we can say what makes a good startup founder down to two words: give up. He only took it up because he was better at it than the other students. They're filled with new technologies, because they're given a fake thing to do. To some extent, yes. It's harder to hide wrongdoing now. And so I just gave up. What worries him about Google is not the way it's portrayed on TV. But don't spend more than a few tens of thousands of dollars without thinking wow, I'm spending a lot of plot, but they run it like one. And that's who they should have been building.

Wrong. No one had to promote C, or Unix, or HTML. It would be unthinkably humiliating to fail now. Their job isn't to get good grades. At year 1, Google was indistinguishable from a nonprofit. There probably are other fields where relentlessly resourceful is how you get there. That has worked for some groups in the past to make sure you don't contradict yourself. Maybe an organization that helped lift its weight off a country could benefit from the resulting growth. I never have. We did that as an inside joke when we started Viaweb how few other companies used one as their logo.

All the hackers I know despise them. For example, initially I thought maybe this principle only applied to Internet startups. And unless you got the money by inheriting it or winning a lottery, you've already been thoroughly trained that self-indulgence leads to trouble. I told a reporter that we expected about a third of the companies we funded to succeed. One big company that understands what hackers need is Microsoft. The computer world has a name for this: premature optimization. We don't know exactly what happens when they die, because they have less to prove, and partly because the harder the subject, the more extroverted of the two founders was still in grad school I used to write existentialist short stories like ones I'd seen by famous writers. The word aptitude is misleading, because it means you don't have to know in high school. Which means anyone who wants to do great work have to live in a great city.

But you're safe so long as you have some core of users who love you will keep you going. A week before Demo Day, we have a dress rehearsal called Rehearsal Day. Mark Zuckerberg started Facebook, his default expectation was that he'd end up working at Microsoft. While few startups will experience a stampede of interest, almost all will at least initially experience the other side of this phenomenon, where the herd remains clumped together at a distance. The first cut is simply to be aggressively open-minded. Good writing is an elaborate effort to seem spontaneous. When you use the would-have method with startup founders, you find that good products do tend to win in the market. This too seems to be that the most important tool to a hacker is to work with him on something. And the way to ensure that is to create wealth. It's ok to have working hypotheses, even though they may constrain you a bit, because they generally don't die loudly and heroically. Cambridge you see shelves full of promising-looking books.

My immediate reaction to this list is that it acts as a compass. Distraction is fatal to startups. Big companies think the function of office space is to express rank. It's pretty easy to say what kinds of problems are not interesting: those where instead of solving a few big, clear, problems, you have two options: work at home, I have no idea that working in a promising field; and they just cannot give up. It's also great for morale. But the guys at Google didn't think search was boring and unimportant. In the startup world, they're usually the x of y or the x y. I think the two changes are related. Which means you either have to get good grades so they can get into a good college was more or less the meaning of life when I was eight, I was rarely bored.

It's not a charity, but they won't just crawl off and die. What you need to be good at what you do probably won't work. Though, frankly, the fact that they control Google, which affects practically everyone. There was a window of about two years when spam was increasing rapidly but all the big email services had terrible filters. If accelerating variation in productivity, it's probably worthwhile to join it. Great hackers also generally insist on using open source software. If it strikes you as odd that people still order electronic parts out of thick paper catalogs in 2007, there's a reason for that. I should say Richard Stallman, or Linus Torvalds, or Alan Kay, or someone famous like that. The important part is not whether he makes ten million a year or a hundred times as productive as an ordinary one, but he'll consider himself lucky to get paid three times as much. If I remember correctly, our frontpage used to just fit in the size window people typically used then.

They hear stories about stampedes to invest in successful startups, you find they'd often make good startups. These aren't so critical in something like math or physics all you need is a handful of other smart students, and most decent hackers are capable of that. That will increasingly be the route to worldly success. Lots of startups that go public is very small. Users like it and they've been growing rapidly. When you look at how famous startups got started, a lot of companies do. Avoid distractions. In a few days it will be the first time they raised money. We couldn't save someone from the market's judgement even if we wanted to get rich will do that instead. You don't simply get to do whatever you want; the board still has to act in the interest of the shareholders will tend to improve, but that no one will actually want. If you're benevolent, people will rally around you: investors, customers, other companies, and companies have to make money selling hardware at high prices. Morale is tremendously important to a startup—so important that morale alone is almost enough to determine success.

Thanks to Sam Altman, Ian Hogarth, Steven Levy, Joel Rainey, Paul Buchheit, Ken Anderson, Trevor Blackwell, Peter Eng, Mark Nitzberg, and Zak Stone for their feedback on these thoughts.

[redscullyrevival]

Kristie’s Favorite Anime of 2018

Here are the (overall) transcripts of my end of the year audio posts covering my favorite anime experiences of 2018. All audio can be located on podbean but tumblr is typically more receptive to the written word and I’m still learning how to do audio levels and editing; it makes sense if people rather read my goofy thoughts!

So starting from the bottom and working our way up to number one, here is my 2nd favorite anime of 2018:

A Place Further than the Universe

Directed by Atsuko Ishizuka

From Madhouse studios

Ohhh, my babies. My beautiful daughters!

A Place Further than the Universe is... I don't want to say an unusual show because feel-good anime is a dime a dozen. What's special, I suppose, about A Place Further than the Universe is how drastically it accomplishes being a feel-good series filled with positive affirmations along side being a uniquely and specifically displaced story within it's universally understandable emotionality.

Ugh, god I hated that sentence. OKAY.

Yes, there is what is known as the iyashikei, healing (at this point) genre, which are shows that often times focus on being relaxing slice-of-life series that often times take place within magical worlds where the fantastical is treated as mundane but wondrous - but that's not what Further than the Universe is doing and I'll try my damnedest to explain what I think it is doing and why, but no promises...

A high schooler named Shirase has been saving up a ton of money to travel to Antarctica, which is where her mother disappeared three years ago. Adults and peers a like find her tenacity oddly unpleasant... but when she meets and is helped by the indecisive Mari the two band together to try and make Shirase's completely bonkers dream a reality. They are joined by two other girls, Hinata and Yuzuki, and all four begin a self initiated journey towards engaging, controlling, and nurturing their own lives.

High school girls going on a trip to the Antarctic is quiet the concept, what's impressive is that the series pulls it off - the girl's individual motivations and the struggle they go through to accomplish their goals is grounded and feels earned and believable even within the obvious fantasy and convenient plotting of it all.

A Place Further than the Universe is incredibly intimate. This is a series that, good god, does not hold back in digging deep into the cozy but horrifyingly vulnerable space of storytelling where there is no problem larger than the characters; it's all relative conflict. Which for some viewers is never gonna be of that much interest or draw no matter how well crafted (and this show is supremely well crafted) a story that makes - if there isn't some larger conflict that hangs above characters rather than being trapped within them some people have a hard time paying attention or connecting. And that's fair.

I am not one of those people. I eat this stuff up, I'm more than fine with scaling my ability to engage, to care, down to if someone clips their nails or not! There is nothing so insignificant I can't be lead, when skillfully lead, to emotionally invest in. That's an ability I have, and that's something this show is very, very good at tapping into and pulling out of even it's more reluctant or critical viewership.

The wacky Antarctica bent is the balance to the individualized conflicts each girl faces as well as being the series entire thematic thesis, it's there in the name; "A Place Further than the Universe."

When discussing this kind of relative stake storytelling with my wonderful friend @sonnetscrewdriver she has said that stories like this one are often times about highlighting how every person's life is in essence it's own world, that what may seem trivial or insignificant from the outside can be magnified and brought forth within story telling to be given immense power and significance. And in doing so, in having an individual high school girl's hopes and insecurities broadcasted to be so thoroughly understood and felt by an audience is truly breath taking. And this series does this not just once but four times.

Each and every single one of us may as well be as far as Antarctica, further than the universe, from the person right next to us. From the people we live with, from the people we know as our friends and our family. And we would be without effort, without intentional effort, to not be alone. To be understood. To have friends and to feel accomplishment, to succeed, and be decisive; so much of those things are never completely given.  

And that's the bare bones of this series. That's the end of the day take away: Feeling fulfilled, feeling cared for, and loved, and connected is work. It's hard. And even in a group, even on a trip of a lifetime, there will be moments where you're not okay. Even in a wider scope of accomplishing what people said you couldn't, even when you are doing what you set out to do, each of us a world and what matters to us, what we love and what hurts us, is all to the wider universe insignificant. So don't measure by the universe. Don't measure your feelings or your experiences from the outside.

That's a lot to get from a 13 episode anime series isn't it? Fuck yeah it is, but that's why I love it. I'm ten times more preachy than A Place Further than the Universe actually is and not nearly as concise or eloquent (I like hearing the sound of my own voice too much) - but please, if you take anything away from this mess today, I hope it's the knowledge art isn't always about pushing you back or knocking you down, it can be more like a strong embrace; and that's this show. A Place Further than the Universe will make you cry, absolutely, don't get me wrong, but it won't be a Banana Fish way. It's not hurtful, it's cleansing. It's... comforting.

Which brings us around to closing the circle on this series: A Place Further than the Universe doesn't position that the distance between people needs to be merged, that we need to destroy our barriers. We need that distance. We can't wear the lives of others (well, stories come close, but...) 

This is an incredibly well made and directed series about four girls who go on an adventure and find themselves and each other, but what's striking to me is how A Place Further than the Universe so concisely expresses that our trails and efforts to reach a new place, to reach out for someone, is no more a comfort then our ability to recognize the ways in which we are apart. Our distances can be a comfort too. We just have to learn how to measure ourselves with ourselves.  

[everlarkficexchange]

Dissever My Soul From Yours (part 1)

Written by: @alliswell21

Rated: Mature

Warnings: Modern AU; Age Gap; Mourning; Grief Stages; Hurt and Comfort; Angst; Brief Description Of Domestic Abuse; Implied Past Child Abuse; Smut; Guilt; Canon Typical Anger Issues; Fasten your seatbelts, it’s gonna be a bumpy ride. All mistakes are mine.

Synopsis: Losing a loved one is hard enough, losing a child is torture. Peeta Mellark struggles to move on from the loss of his son, so he clings to the last piece of him left alive, his son’s girlfriend. Based on Prompt 106: Katniss is Rye’s girlfriend when he dies. Katniss and Peeta (Rye’s father) start to hang out to go through their grief together. [submitted by Anonymous]

Acknowledgements: Thank you Anon for this prompt, I wish I knew who you were to dedicate it to you, but I guess this way the story simple belongs to the universe :) Also thank you @kleeklutch for reading this through and helping me get my ideas straight… I truly loved your insights! lastly, thank you Everlark Fic Exchange from bring us all together! 

Other Notes: Excerpt of the lyrics to “You’ve Got a Friend in Me” by Randy Newman (Toy Story, 1995)

Excerpts and rewordings for the poem “Annabel Lee” by Edgar Allan Poe; featuring the poem “Alone” by Edgar Allan Poe

This fic got away from me. I had outlined it to be around 8-10K words, but this monstrosity grew up to be close to 32K… I'm submitting a second part, and when I post the story to AO3 there will be an epilogue. 

KPKPKPKPKPK

  The sky is overcast, not a ray of sun penetrates the thick blanket of gray clouds covering the entire town of Panem. The weather is appropriate. It reflects the storm I carry inside.

  No parent should ever have to put their child in the ground.

  I’m wandering aimlessly around the house. So big, so empty. I wish I wasn’t here right now. I wish I could follow my boy right into his grave, but life isn’t fair, at least that’s one thing my mother got right in all her wrongness. Now I’m thinking of my mother, and I feel anger rise in my chest along my hurt and sorrow. How is it that such a hateful woman gets to live so long into her elderly years, yet my son got ripped away from me so young?

  He would’ve been 23, in less than three months!

  He grew up to be a good man. He decided early on he wanted to be in the Navy; he served his country, and I never begrudge his time away from home, I prayed for his safety everyday he was gone. I almost cried with happiness when he told me he had some leave time for the holidays. My boy was coming home after almost a whole year away. I was so proud of him. I still am!

  But the worst happened before he even had a chance to settle in at home.

  Where’s the justice in that?

  Hot, fat, unshed tears fill my eyes, blinding me to the point I can only see silhouettes, but that’s alright, most of the mourners have already gone home; I’m free to cry and scream if I chose to do so.

  One such silhouette approaches me deliberately slowly. I know is my best friend, even before she calls my name in that pitying tone I’m starting to resent.

  “Peeta, the last visitor just left. Will you be okay if I start putting away—“

  She stops talking mid sentence. Her face turns sharply towards the room she stopped me by, and I grow faint.

  It’s Rye’s old bedroom, and someone’s sobbing inside.

  To their credit, whoever’s in there is crying very quietly. I didn’t hear it at first, and in my state I would’ve probably miss it completely if not for Johanna.

  I see Jo’s face contort into a mix of annoyance and anger. Before I can say anything, she throws the door open and stalks inside.

  “Excuse me, but visitation is over, and the family is getting ready to pack up for the move. So, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

  “Oh! I’m so sorry. I-I lost track of time. I—I didn’t mean to overstay. I’ll leave right away…” stammers the poor girl inside the room.

  I peek my head in out of morbid curiosity and see the raven dark haired girl scrambling to gather herself. When she lift her pretty, tear stained face, I feel an acute pain in the chest, where my heart keeps stuttering.

  “Katniss! It’s alright. You can stay!” I practically yell stepping fully into the room. I catch myself, seeing where I’m standing and freeze in place.

  After a torturous moment, I take a huge step backwards, until I’m outside the door frame. I tell her from the safety of the hallway, she can stay for as long as she wants, and that she’s welcome to help herself to anything in the room… unless it holds sentimental value to me, that is.

  I feel awkward standing there, saying the words. So I turn around robotically and stomp away as fast as I can.

  Johanna follows me to the kitchen, where I’m trying to fill up the kettle, but my hand is trembling something awful.

  “I never knew you had Parkinson’s,” Says Johanna snatching the kettle from me, pushing me away with her hips and taking over the chore.

  “I don’t,” I glare at her.

  “Well, that’s a relief Shaky Shakerton.”

  “Shut up, Jo. Is not nice to make light of a serious condition.” I tell her offended.

  She arches an eyebrow, and makes a noncommittal noise at the back of her throat.

  “So, that was the famous Katniss Everdeen, then?” She asks after setting the kettle on the stove.

  All the answer I give her is a distracted nod.

  “Hmm.” The noise sounds judgmental, so I glance at her.

  “What?” I ask defensively on behalf of Rye.

  “Nothing.” Jo responds. “She’s just… skinny.” She adds with a shrug.

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing! That in the few years I’ve heard that boy gushing about her, I never imagined her being so small.”

  “She’s petite, so what? You are a stick with boobs!” I retort.

  “Awww! You noticed the girls!” She cooes, squeezing her upper arms together to push her breasts out.

  I roll my eyes. I’m not in the mood for Johanna’s irreverent antics. But the scathing response I want to give her dies in my mouth when I notice Katniss standing on the doorway.

  “Jesus!” Hisses Johanna clutching a hand to her chest. “You’re lucky I’m not a lumberjack! I could’ve thrown an ax at your forehead for scaring me like that! Are you part ghost or something? So quiet!”

  Katniss scowls at Jo. “I’m sorry,” she says curtly, giving the impression she’s not sorry at all.

  Jo shivers, but then gives Katniss her cat-like smirk, “Nah, it’s fine. By the way, I’m Rye’s favorite auntie, Johanna Mason.” Jo drawls.

  “Katniss Everdeen. Rye’s too skinny girlfriend.” She deadpans.

  Tensions are a little high for a moment. I’m a little aggravated at Jo when Katniss is the one to offer a peace branch.

  “Rye used to talk a lot about his auntie Jo.” She’s quiet for a second. “He told me once that you were the only mom he ever knew.”

  The silence that follows is heavy and full of grief.

  “Fuck!” Jo hisses. “Now you’ve done it, brainless!” She snaps at Katniss. “That was not an okay comment to share today. Excuse me, I gotta go punch something.” Johanna retreats to the backyard hastily, pawing harshly at the tears falling down her cheeks as she practically runs outside.

  I’m honestly befuddled by my friend’s reaction. Especially because the comment was actually very sweet and warming. I chance a glance at Katniss, but to my surprise, she doesn’t looked troubled or even curious about Jo. She realizes I’m staring at her, and shrugs.

  “Grieve is weird.” She offers mildly.

  The kettle starts whistling then.

  I rush to get it off the burner, and offer lamely, “Tea?”

  “No, thank you.” She responds merely staring at Jo through the sliding glass door for a second, before addressing me.

  “Mr. Mellark, I was wondering if I could take this picture?” She raises a frame and waves at me. “It has me in it. I’ve never seen it before. There are also a couple of Edgar Allan Poe books I’m interested in, as well.”

  My head shoots up from my task of pouring hot water into mugs.

  “You want the Poe books?” I must’ve sound harsh, because her cheeks turn scarlett and her eyes bulge a little.

  She stammers, “Well. Yes. I mean, Rye and I loved his writings. In fact, Annabel Lee was what got us talking to each other the first time we met outside school. We were discussing illness and death.” She stops in her tracks, and frowns. “I’m sorry. That was inappropriate to bring up right now. I… I’ll understand if you rather keep—“

  “Katniss, it’s okay!” I cut in trying to placate her. “Take the books, please! I was just surprised you even noticed them.”

  “Why wouldn’t I’ve noticed them? I’ve read them all. I just don’t own any copies, personally.”

  I think I’ve offered her by the scowl on her face. She tries to reel herself in, but the way her jaw ticks is an endearing give away of just how frustrated she truly is.

  I take a deep breath.

  “I’m sorry if I offended you. I didn’t mean to insult you. If you want the books, please, don’t hesitate to take them.”

  “I don’t wanna be rude. I’ve already caused a bad impression on Auntie Jo.” The way she says the name tells me Johanna didn’t impressed Katniss either.

  She tries to keep a passive mask on, but I see flashes of annoyance in her gray eyes.

  “You know, Johanna is my best friend in the world but she can be a bit…”

  “Judgemental?”

  “I was going to say, blunt, but—“

  “Mr. Mellark, look, you don’t have to make up excuses for your friend. I know grief brings out the worst in people. Miss Johanna and I met under horrible circumstances, I’m not gonna hold this interaction against her.”

  “But what about you? You were crying in the room when she bursted in kicking you out. You gotta feel sad and angry…”

  “Oh, I do.” She tells me plainly. “I feel like my heart got tore out of my chest, and the pain is slowly devouring me from the inside out. I just lost my best friend. The fact that he was away two mere blocks away from my place just makes it even more horrible. But, I’ve had experience managing my own grief. I only allow myself so much despair, and then I have to collect myself.”

  And here I was thinking it was lucky for her she wasn’t a professional actress, not being able to hide her emotions, when probably she was just choosing to wear her aggravation on her sleeve, to keep the sadness at bay.

  Rye was on his way to pick her up, for their first official date since he got back home. He was crazy about her. So excited to finally be able to see her, touch her, just spend time with her.

  But fate is a bitch. Rye was only a few blocks from her apartment, when he came across a family; the father was berating one teenaged kid, the mom tried to intervene and another kid stood by petrified. The man struck his wife across the face so hard she almost fell down. I don’t know what exactly moved him to do it, other than he saw a need and it was the right thing to do. Rye stepped in, to defend the woman and children from their abuser.

  My boy got stabbed in the kidney by the coward. There was internal bleeding the paramedics couldn’t stop. My Rye past away in the ambulance, on the way to the hospital.

  I had to call Katniss myself and to inform her she hadn’t been stood up. At least not on purpose.

  I wish there was some word of comfort I could say to ease her pain, but nothing comes forward. She seems to be well acquainted with grief, which kind of worries me a little. I’ve met her family because of Rye, I know that Mrs. Everdeen has been a widow for a very long time, but that’s the extent of my knowledge.

  At the end, we are both too stunned to say anything else, and Katniss just walks eerily quiet back to Rye’s room. A few minutes later, she steps out red-rimmed eyes avoiding me at all costs, with a couple of books and the picture frame hugged to her chest.

  She thanks me briefly and leaves.

  “Katniss,” I call out.

  She turns towards me.

  “Will you be okay?” I ask her.

  She nods slowly. “I will.”

  “Will you call me if you need anything?”

  She studies me for a moment, “Sure. Thanks.” She says curtly, and walks out the door quickly.

  I know she won’t call me, and somehow that feels like I’ve lost another piece of Rye.

  ———-

  I stand nervously in the hallway, re-checking the address, making sure I’m at the right apartment, despite having been here many times before and the glaringly obvious ‘Everdeen’ tag under the peephole.

  I knock and wait, rearranging my hold on the heavy box I’m carrying. It takes another minute for me to decide maybe there’s no one home, and my mind starts formulating ideas of what to do next.

  I could probably leave the box here, put a note on it… but what if someone steals it? Could I ask the super to keep an eye on it until she comes back? How does UPS do it when they have to deliver a big package?

  I don’t know if coming here is weird. I just couldn’t stop feeling like reaching out to make sure she’s okay. It’s what Rye would’ve want me to do.

  I’ve almost decided it’s better this way, it was a stupid idea to come unannounced. I’m already halfway down the hallway when the elevator arrives with a loud ping, and out comes Katniss, carrying grocery bags in both hands.

  “Mr. Mellark?” She sounds a little surprised to see me in her apartment building. “What are you doing here?” There’s no rejection in her tone, just startled.

  “Hello, Katniss. Sorry I showed up out of the blue. I’m just officially about to put the house on the market in the next few weeks, and I have to get everything out of the place by Thursday.” I tell her shrugging my shoulders.

  “Oh, yeah. I remember now. You’re selling your house and moving closer to your bakery in the city.”

  I chuckle under my breath. “Actually… I leased an apartment up in the 12th floor.” If my hands weren’t full I’d be scratching the back of my neck right now.

  I’m not sure why divulging this to Katniss suddenly makes me feel silly. I guess the expression on her face is what makes me weary.

  “Here? In this building?” She asks bewildered.

  I take a shuddering breath. “It was supposed to be a surprise for Rye.”

  “Oh.” Katniss averts her gaze from mine, and really I couldn’t hold hers much longer either. “I… See.”

  We both fall silent for a very long time, until I start justifying my ridiculous impulse of bringing my son closer to her. He was grown ass man, he could’ve moved in with her if he’d wanted to.

  “It just temporary. Six months tops. I’m remodeling the apartment above my bakery and it’s going so slow. And Rye was going to be home so short, he was dreading the one hour commute to work, and he was unhappy he couldn’t see you as often as he wanted to.

  “Those sounds like flimsy reasons. I’m sorry for not asking you beforehand if moving into your building would have inconvenienced you. It just dawned on me that I’m imposing on your privacy. I never meant to disregard your opinion. It just… never crossed my mind, until just now.”

  I feel like a jackass. But her face is impassive. I’m not sure what to say next, so I rush with the original reason I came here for.

  “Look, um, management is sprucing up my apartment right now. They’ve painted every wall inside and installed new carpets, they’re supposed to release it to me on Wednesday, and I’m all packed up.

  “But, I’m downsizing, and I have this Edgar Allan Poe collection that needs a new home. Otherwise, I’m gonna have to donate them to Goodwill or something, and I’m not sure if anyone will appreciate them.” I shuffle the box forward so she gets my meaning, her eyes go round, staring at the box.

  I add quickly, “You don’t have to take them thought. Really. I… I think I’m developing this horrible habit of assuming stuff with you and it’s not my intention at all… You know?” I’m rambling. Badly!

  She opens her mouth but mine won’t shut up.

  “So, how about you don’t pay me any mind and pretend I wasn’t here. In fact, if you see me around for the next six months, just ignore me. It’s okay—“

  “Mr. Mellark!” She raises her voice over mine, chuckling, “I’ll be happy to take the books off your hands! There’s no telling how long those poor babies would just sit on a shelf at the thrift store gathering dust.”

  I’m momentarily distracted by her smile. I’ve seen her a several times over the last two years, but I just realized that when she smiles, her lips curl just a little bit to the left, and her eyes crinkle a little.

  She’s very pretty.

  Objectively speaking.

  She brings me back to the present, “So… would you like to come in? That box looks heavy, and I have frozen yogurt in one of this bags.”

  “Oh! Yeah! Sure! Of course.”

  I’ve been in her apartment a handful of times since she and Rye dated, either to pick up letters and little gifts to put in care packages I shipped him during his deployment, or to drop off stuff he sent her.

  I guess I was some kind of bridge between them. In a way, I was also part of their relationship, as odd as that sounds.

  As soon as we walk in, I deposit the box on the coffee table, while she continues on to the kitchen. Her apartment is practically a studio, with one bedroom, a bathroom and a kitchen-living room-dining area open floor combo. The one I’m renting has two bedrooms and a balcony, but the rest is the same.

  I offer to help her put groceries away, but she declines demurely.

  Instead, she asks, “Can I offer you something to drink?” I settle in the small couch and she adds, making a funny face, “Your choices are: straight up water, water in the rocks, hot water with a pouch of chamomile flowers, better known as tea, and frozen yogurt.”

  “Tea is fine.” I chuckle. Then add as an afterthought, “No sugar, thank you.”

  When she comes with the tea, we sit in the couch just taking sips of the calming brew, but her eyes keep straying to the box.

  “You should take a look at the books. I think there are some repeats in there, also, not everything in there is just Poe. I think there’s some Mark Twain and even a copy of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein.”

  Her eyes widen just as her hands reach to snatch the box from the table and dump it on the couch between us.

  Every time she pulls a new book from inside, she either smiles or “Ooh”s. It’s like watching a kid opening Christmas presents. I guess at least that part of the holidays isn’t ruined.

  I’m smiling widely as well.

  “Mr. Mellark, this is too much! There are books here that have been well loved for years!” She says caressing the worn, dog eared cover of Frankenstein.

  I smile sadly. “Some belonged to my granny. She took me a Rye in when I had nowhere to go with a newborn. She loved the old classics. She learned how to read when she emigrated to America, and she just loved books. She read to Rye every night before bed. I miss them both. I can’t make myself read the books right now, so I figured it would be a disservice to them both to just toss them out or donate them. If you keep then, at least I’d know they went to someone who will enjoy them as much as they did.”

  She looks at me with a sadness filling her eyes. There’s no pity. Just understanding.

  “I’ll be honored to take them.” She hugs Frankenstein to her chest.

  We fall into a companionable silence, but her eyes are lost somewhere in the rug. A sweet smile tugs at her lips.

  “Rye said you guys lived with his Gigi. He said he didn’t remember much about her, except that her kitchen always smelled like warm snickerdoodles and goulash.” She pauses scrunching up her nose. “I can’t say I could picture the smell. It just sounds like two completely different things to sniff at.”

  I laugh. A real, full belly laugh. One that I’ve forgotten I could produce. One that I thought was lost to me forever, with my boy.

  She looks at me for a second, before shaking her head ruefully and smiling at the book cradled in her hands.

  “How about I’ll invite you over for supper after I move in and recreate the aromas? Then you can have goulash and cookies Mellark style.”

  My smile wavers when she looks away, biting the inside of her mouth. I inhale deeply, when she nods minutely.

  “Okay.”

  “Good!”

  I feel better already. I’m not ready to let go of this ghost connection to Rye I feel through Katniss.

  ——-

  The first week after finally moving into the building, Katniss stops by with a six pack of Mike’s Hard Lemonade. I’m surprised she even knew I like the drink, until she smirks uncorking one and simply says “Rye!” followed by a shrug.

  “I got carded too, and they gave me a hard time making sure my license wasn’t fake… so you better enjoy every last drop!” She quips.

  “I promise I’ll make them last!” I take the bottle from her and she opens one for herself.

  She sits on my brand new breakfast bar stools, and compliments my shark and alligator oven mitts hanging above the stove.

  We laugh together when I tell her the story behind them, how I bought them to entice Rye to join me in the kitchen, since coming from a very long line of bakers, it was my duty to teach my child to bake as well, but Rye wasn’t interested at all so he groused and complained the whole time until he turn on the mixer and we both got covered with flour head to toe. That was the only thing he liked about that day.

  From very young Rye wanted to be an army man, then he switched to Air Force pilot, and then when he was around 15 years old, we took to a trip to San Diego, California, where we toured the USS Midway Museum. He fell in love with everything Navy.

  “Where you okay with Rye ditching the baking tradition?” She asks peering at me curiously.

  “Yeah.” I say sincerely. “I would’ve never forced him to become a baker if he didn’t want it. I bake because I love it, and my bakery I inherited from Granny herself. I had to go to school and get me a business degree to run my shop easier, but I would’ve never hold Rye back from his dreams.”

  Katniss takes another pull from her drink. “I’m glad you had each other. Rye was a good man, just like you, Mr. M.”

  I smile gratefully at her.

  “You can call me Peeta, you know. Any person that brings me alcohol as a housewarming gift is in my best pals list.”

  “Oh!” She laughs making her shoulders jiggle, dislodging her long dark braid from them. “I don’t think I’ll be able to call you anything other that Mr. Mellark. Old habits dying hard and all that. But thanks, I like having a pal.”

  I sense some forlorn hidden emotion in her words. But then she mumbles quietly.

  “I’m not very good at making friends. That was Rye’s thing.”

  I frown. “Well… you have a friend, right here!”

  Her gray, sparkly eyes meet mine, and her lips turn up mischievously. “Are you gonna pull a cowboy hat and boots from under your counter and break into song?” She arches an eyebrow expectantly.

  I give her a quizzical look, and she starts singing.

  “You’ve got a friend in me You’ve got a friend in me…”

  She arches both eyebrows at me, but I stare back at her. Not because I don’t know the song, I remember it now, clear as day, but my mind is stuck on just how sweet her singing voice is.

  “Nothing?” She asks motioning with her hands.

  When I blink at her stupidly, she brings her cellphone out of her back pocket and starts typing furiously, she finds the song in YouTube and shows me the video.

  Tom Hanks’ voice rings out the beloved ditty.

  “You’ve got a friend in me

You’ve got a friend in me

You got troubles, I’ve got ‘em too There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you We stick together and see it through Cause you’ve got a friend in me You’ve got a friend in me…”

  She pulls her phone away, and the words slip my mouth before I can stop them. “I like it better when you sing.”

  She blushes a little, but smiles.

  “Thanks.” She offers quietly. “I don’t sing much. Not after my daddy passed away. We used to sing together all the time. But is not the same anymore.”

  I can relate to the feeling.

  I cover her hand with mine, “I meant it. You have me now.”

  ———

  I’ve been running myself ragged this past week.

  With the Christmas rush I almost never leave the kitchen at work.

  I take it upon myself to decorate every single cake we bake. Lately, I make a game to see how detailed I can make them, how many techniques I can use in a single cake, how many colors I can add to the mix without making it tacky. Anything to kill time.

  I stay in and frost until my sight gets blurry and colorblind. The night before Christmas Eve I’m surprised to see my staff file into the kitchen in the middle of the night, when I ask what are they doing here so late, I get quirky looks all around. One of the bakers asks me if I ever went home to sleep. It turns out I didn’t. I worked all night through and still stay the rest of my shift, until I pipe “Happy Jesus Birthday” on a cake commissioned by the Sisters of Mercy Halfway Home and Shelter and the whole top has to be scraped off.

  Luckily the rest of the cake was flawless. Somebody else takes over, but I still hang around looking over their shoulder and grimacing when they use a tip I wouldn’t have chosen. They finally have my junior manager, Rue, kick me out of the bakery.

  I finally come home and sit in the dark in the living room, driving myself insane with pent up anxiety. I flex my fingers on my knees debating if I should go back to the bakery. I’m the owner goddamnit, I can do whatever I want! But out of respect for my staff, I stay with my ass glued to the couch.

  Jo calls for the 100th time to ask me to come home to Panem. I can stay with her if I don’t want to crash at my folks. My brothers are there with their families. Yada, yada, yada.

  I tell her I’m busy. “Christmas is my most profitable time of the year, Jo, I can’t just up and leave while my poor staff stays and works. They wanna see their families too, you know.”

  Johanna snorts, “Since when do you care about the bottom line, Peeta? That’s the laziest lie ever, Mellark. You’re slipping!”

  I shake my head though she can’t see the gesture.

  “I’m busy, Jo. Maybe I’ll come next week.”

  “PEETA! Next week isn’t Christmas!”

  “Jo, seriously… I can’t go. I’m sor—“

  “Stop lying to me! I saw your old schedule, and you had given yourself today and tomorrow off! I know because I put it in my calendar! In fact I took a picture of it, so I wouldn’t forget to put it in my calendar… I’m sure it’s still stored somewhere in my phone, I’ll text it to you in a sec…”

  There was a timid knock on the door, and I have never been so grateful for solicitors on Christmas Eve.

  “Hey, there’s someone at the door. I’ll call you right back, okay?”

  “Peeta Mellark, don’t you dare hang up on m—“

  Silence!

  Blessed, beautiful silence.

  I’ll call her back tomorrow… maybe.

  They knock again, and I make my way to answer, because now I feel obligated to come see what they want, since I used the as my excuse to escape Johanna’s nagging.

  Katniss stands in the hallway, wearing a Darth Vader knitted sweater that reads “I find your lack of cheer disturbing”. It makes me giggle.

  “Hi,” she wiggles her fingers at me shyly.

  “Hey,” I say stepping aside to let her come in.

  She simply hovers around the door, hands clasped behind her back. “So… my mama and Prim came to the city for Christmas, because I decided I couldn’t be in Panem this year. Not after…” she trails off, her hand makes a vague gesture, then her ugg clad foot hooks behind her calf, giving her the look of a cute, dark haired flamingo.

  “You know.” She says awkwardly.

  “Yeah.” I respond leaning my shoulder in the door jamb. “I know.” Because I do.

  She sighs. “It’s just easier to pretend he’s not home because he’s somewhere on deployment, when I’m here. Here is safe. There are no reminders of him.” Her voice cracks, a wayward tear pokes to the rim of her eye. She averts her gaze to manage her tears, but I’m the one who breaks.

  I inhale a breath that lodges in my throat. Suddenly, I’m bent over at my waist sobbing. The stress of the week crashing down on me for what it really is: I’m hiding from this crushing pain.

  My baby was supposed to be here with me, instead he’s six feet under frozen dirt, alone and silent, and the only person that seems to understand the magnitude of my pain has finally put into words, plain and simple, what I haven’t been able to acknowledge: I don’t want to remember he’s gone.

  As long as I stay here, busy with work, Rye could be anywhere in the world, smiling.

  I feel a slender body wrap over my back, and then she’s crying and apologizing.

  “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. Please, Mr. Mellark don’t cry. I’m so, so sorry…”

  We must’ve been kneeling here, huddling together and crying a long time, because I hear Katniss’ mother talking softly above us.

“Prim, help your sister up, I’ll take care of mister Peeta.” They bring us inside, sit us in the couch, and although neither of them have ever been to my apartment, Ms Everdeen and Primrose take control of the place.

  Lights are turned on, our legs are snuggly covered with blankets and they put mugs of hot tea in our hands.

  “I’m sorry Mr. M. I was just supposed to ask you to come downstairs to watch Elf and eat popcorn with us. I know you are staying in Capitol City because you miss him too. I didn’t want you to be sad and alone tonight,” Katniss mutters miserably.

  I look at her, and it’s the strangest thing!

  I feel the fluttering of butterfly wings in my stomach. Something I’ve forgotten how it felt a long time ago.

  Her face it’s all blotchy; her nose is red, shiny and bit runny; her eyes are also red and puffy; and there are dry tear tracks down her cheeks. I’ve never seen anything prettier in my life.

  I tear my eyes away from her and take a gulp of my scalding hot tea, burning my tongue. Karma will make things right, my little lapse in judgement is beyond inappropriate.

  I fan my mouth for a minute.

  “Sure, Katniss. I’ll come.”

  ———-

  Christmas came and left, and it was the most painful thing in my life. I cried so much, all the time, I had to constantly be drinking gallon upon gallon of water. I would give myself headaches, and I swear I lost 5 pounds just crying.

  Losing a child sucks. Losing a child around Christmas is just torture.

  The only saving grace in this miserable time is Katniss. She’s been the sweetest angel. Her mother and sister took care of us both for a few days. Ms. Everdeen offered to refer me to a grief counselor, and I told her I’d think about it. But the jury is still out on the topic.

  Katniss and I start having dinner together every weekend. It’s nice to catch up after a long working week, it helps smooth out the sting of grief. We talk about books, movies, ideas and Rye. We talk a lot about Rye.

  One Thursday night three weeks into our weekly arrangement, I hear someone banging at my door. When I look through the peephole, I see her standing there, raising her fist to bang again.

  I’m taken aback when I open the door, and she falls into my arms practically wailing.

  I pull her inside the apartment and just hold her while she shudders and huffs. Then starts the incomprehensible blabbering, I try as hard as I can to decipher. I can only make out a few words, though.

  Something that sounds like “who does that?”, what I think is my son’s name, and suspicions sound I believe is a cuss word.

  All I can do is massage her back and the crying gradually lessens, until hiccups take over the shudders.

  When she’s sufficiently calmed, I lead her to the couch and sit her there. I keep a box of Kleenex pretty much in every surface of my place, because either I start crying, or Katniss would, or Johanna when she comes to visit. I hand her the box of napkins, and she takes a fistful of them to blow her nose and wipe her cheeks.

  She talks without me asking, stopping at odd intervals so a stuttering sigh can pass through her full ripe lips.

  “It’s not. Fair! Xander Cato just. Got home from” sniff “tour. To his fiancée. That stuck up bitch. Clove.” Another sniff. “She posted pictures. At the beach. Sipping some stupid. Fruity con-coction. ‘Virgin’ because they’re. Trying for a mini. Cato.” She says the last sentence in a mocking tone accompanied by air quotes. “They’re not even. married yet!” She growls, “And what does it. Matter if you drink. Alcohol before you get. Knock up? She’s and. Idiot!”

  Katniss swipes at her nose roughly. And her reddened gray eyes fix on mine. “I know I told. Rye I didn’t. wanna get married. Or have children. Like… ever. But that should’ve been his life!” Her bottom lip quivers and a few tears fall inhibited down her pink cheeks.

  “He could’ve. Met someone. More deserving than me. Someone willing to. Give him a family! Maybe if I had kept. My mouth shut. God wouldn’t have. Taken him. Away. Before we’ve. Had a chance!”

  It’s a miracle she got it all out of her chest, or that I understood it all with her shuddering and sobbing.

  I can feel myself getting worked up as well by her words.

  Alexander Cato was in Rye’s year of High School. Cato enlisted in the army while Rye went to the Navy. They were friends and stayed in touch. Katniss and Clove were in the year below the boys but ran in different circles. On the one holiday the two couples coincided home, they had one double date. That’s their history of interactions. I’m not sure where did Katniss found out all this about the Catos.

  I reassure her as best I can, while feeling the acute loss of a future my son will never have. A future I’ll never get to witness and be a part of.

  “Katniss, it’s alright. You didn’t do anything to make God angry. It doesn’t work that way. And even if that was the case, it would’ve been me who God be punishing, not you and Rye.”

  She’s not convinced, but she stops crying.

  After a moment just sitting side by side in silence, she sighs.

  “I’m sorry I came in here acting all crazy. I shouldn’t be bring this crap to you. You have your own stuff to deal with and now I added to your grief.”

  “It’s okay—“

  “No, is not.” She shakes her head stubbornly. She sighs again, “I have to go home. I have school in the morning. See you Saturday, Mr M.”

  “You could stay you know.” I tell her sheepishly. “Johanna stays in the spare room all the time,”

  “Oh, no… I’m just a couple of flights of stairs below. I’ll be fine. I can call you when I get in, if that makes you feel better.”

  “Katniss, the truth is, I don’t want to be alone in this place right now. And honestly, I don’t think you should be alone either.”

  She studies my face for a little while, chewing the inside of her cheek. She does that every time I pose a hard question to her, I’ve noticed.

  “I don’t want to impose.”

  “I’m inviting you.”

  “But I’ll have to leave early,” she cocks her head the right.

  “I’m a baker. Chances are I’ll be gone before you’re awake. I’ll leave breakfast on the counter. You can just take the spare key in the left drawer and lock the door on your way out, then you can return the key when we meet for dinner this weekend.”

  She’s still mulling it over. “Can breakfast be cheese buns?” She asks shyly.

  “Deal.”

  ———-

  Katniss has nightmares. Lots of them. She had them the night she stayed over and confessed she’s suffered them ever since her father died when she was 11, but now Rye has joined her hunted dreams.

  I told her I have them too, nightmares. I wake up in the middle of the night in cold sweats and paralyzed with a terrible fear that I’ll never see my son again, just to realize he’s gone forever, that I’ve lost him and I won’t be able to talk to him, hug him or hear his laughter ever again; but then I think of the people I still have in my life and things aren’t so scary anymore. Sure, the pain is still there as acute as ever, but I find it easier to breathe.

  I start painting as well. I used to do it when I was younger. She asks to see my paintings, and sniffles a little looking at the portraits of Rye as little boy. I didn’t show her the one I go back to every night, the one I’m making of her. That one is somehow private, despite, or maybe because, she’s the subject of the piece.

  I do ask her to call me anytime she has a bad dream, sometimes talking about it helps too.

  If there’s one thing we have in common, is our love for Rye, and I will always honor that bond, day or night no matter the time. To my surprise, she actually takes me up on it after that evening; we talk on the phone almost every night so she’s not afraid of going to bed.

  ———

  One night, I’m the one knocking on her door as if a band demons was after me, chasing me down, and she was the angel that sent them away.

  She opens the door, and my greeting is a quivering, “The house sold.”

  “I’m so sorry, Mr. M.” She extends her arms, and I find shelter in her slender shoulders.

  I’ve wanted to sell the house since Rye left on tour. I didn’t need all that room when I was living by myself- realistically speaking, Rye had flown the nest- and though Rye had grown up in that house, the sentimental attachment didn’t hit until I handed over the keys to the new owners. Never in a million years could I had thought, selling that house was going to feel like losing my son all over again.

  Katniss lets me cry until I’m spent, the whole while she’s carding her fingers through my messy waves, and then I ask her for story, because I’m not ready to go back to my empty apartment.

  She tells me about her sister’s nanny goat, Lady. She wants to distract me, so she tells me stuff that have nothing to do with Rye.

  I stare at her, and the urge to kiss her is so strong, I force myself to loop back to my son and the sold house.We cry together. Eventually, we fall asleep in her couch, huddled closely to each other.

  I allow myself a kiss to her forehead when I wake up at 4:30 a.m. thanks to my internal baker’s clock. She looks beautiful and peaceful.

  I wish I had met her under different circumstances. I wish she was older… I wish she didn’t belong to my boy.

  And because of that, I tear myself away from her and return to my depressing loneliness.

  ———

  Our weekly supper becomes a bi-weekly event, and soon we are having meals together every other day.

  The day Johanna calls me just to chat, and I tell her for the fifth time I was in the middle of making supper with Katniss, she makes a disapproving noise in the back of her throat.

  “What?” I ask annoyed at her.

  It takes her a minute, but she answers slowly, like she’s walking on eggshells. “You’ve been spending a lot of time together.”

  “So?” I wave at Katniss, who’s slicing a cucumber, letting her know I’m going to step into my room. “I know there’s something you want to say to me, so just come out with it.”

  Jo takes a deep breath, as if bracing for a blow. “I think you should take some distance from the girl, Peeta. It’s all.”

  “Why? Being around her makes me happy!” I tell her harshly.

  “That’s exactly why!” She yells at me losing her patience. “She’s even younger than Rye was, and you’re not in your right mind at the moment. Nothing good will come of this. So before anyone gets hurt, badly, you should step away.”

Objectively speaking, Jo’s absolutely right, and I hate her for it, so I go on the defensive.

  “Are you for real right now, Johanna?” I hiss. “I can’t believe, my best friend in the world will insinuate that I could do something so shitty…” I’m too choked up to continue.

  “I’m not insinuating anything, Peeta. All I’m saying is that even if nothing ever happens, some space will benefit everyone. You may even heal faster on your own.”

  “Sure, Johanna. Thanks! I’ll call you later, after kicking out the only other person that gets how I’m feeling.”

  “That’s not fair! Nor is even remotely true! What about me, or your dad and brothers, even your mother? We all miss Rye!”

  “Yeah? Well, where are you guys right now? Because I’m sure as fuck not feeling any of you hugging me every night when I cry my eyes out, screaming my only child’s name!” I’m yelling at the top of my lungs now.

  “Peeta…”

  “No! I don’t wanna talk right now! I may say something ugly I’ll regret later.” I disconnect the call, turn off my phone and shuck it across the room where it bounces on the bed, and falls to the carpeted floor with a thud.

  I sit on the edge of my bed, elbows on my knees and the heels of my hands pressing my wet eye sockets, hoping I can contain the rage I feel inside.

  Her cool fingers slide around my wrists, and gently pulls my hands from my face. I bury my face against her stomach, and sob like a baby. She just cooes reassurances, while combing my hair back.

  “I’m so tired, Katniss,” I managed to huff out.

  “I know, Peeta.” She says soothingly. “Lay down, we need a nap. Supper can wait. I’m not going anywhere.”

  It’s the first time she says my name, and all I can think of is how sweet it sounds in her tongue.

  She lays next to me running her fingers through my hair, and I fall asleep while she sings a lullaby quietly into my ear.

  ———-

  I wake up with a start and relax right away.

  Katniss is asleep next to me, facing me. My arm is slung over her middle. I pull myself away from her when I realize how close I was to brushing her lips with mine.

  An awful feeling twists my insides, and I have to throw up.

  Johanna’s right. I need to put some distance between Katniss and I.

  ———-

  It’s Rye’s birthday.

  Today is shit!

  I didn’t get out of bed. My phone has been ringing forever and I keep ignoring it. I’m contemplating throwing it down the garbage shoot, but that means getting out of bed, out of the apartment and into the hallway near the elevator. That’s too close to the street. I’m staying in bed, waiting for the world to die.

  My baby is gone. Why am I still here?

  “Peeta?” Katniss whispers harshly when she pokes her head into my bedroom.

  It’s all dark and muggy, since the curtains are drawn shut and I’m under my covers.

  I haven’t seen her in over a week, and I’m sure I should be feeling something, now that she’s here, but there’s no room for feelings in me, only numbness.

  “Peeta, are you there?” She demands in that nagging whisper that grates my ears.

  “Go away, Katniss. I’m not in the mood.”

  “Neither am I,” she answers curtly, stalking to the window to pull the curtains aside. “You weren’t picking up my calls! You didn’t answer Rue’s calls, you didn’t answer pawpaw’s calls!” She chides.

  “I get that you’re depressed, Peeta, so am I, but so is your father, and you still need to let your staff know if you’re not showing up to work.”

  She pulls my sheets down to my chin. And I feel a jolt when my bleary eyes meet her angry ones.

  So pretty when she’s mad.

  Now I’m sad AND ashamed.

  “You don’t have to be happy, no one expects you to. You don’t even have to leave home at all today, but you need to shower, and put something in your stomach. I’m here to make sure you do so, even if I have to spoon feed you. So get on with it!” She orders.

  “And how are you enforcing my taking a shower? Are you planning to drag me into the bathroom and bathe me too? You aren’t very big, you couldn’t pick up my arm if I decided to become dead weight.” I counter angrily.

  She blushes and hesitates for a moment but then tells me seriously, “Will cross that bridge when we get there. I’m fixing you lunch for now. Please, at least wash your face and teeth, and don’t close the curtains again.” Her voice softens, “After lunch, if you’re still sad you can take a nap, but if you don’t try to get up, then you’ll miss a chance to remember Rye for the great guy he was.”

  I end up taking a very long shower, if you call standing under the hot waterfall motionless until the water turns icy cold a shower. I change into clean pajamas and sit under the covers of my bed, where Katniss lets me eat my lunch.

  She makes soup from scratch, and is so delicious I polished off two whole bowls making Katniss look satisfied. I like seeing her that way.

  She lets me go back completely under the covers to conceal myself from the world, but she settles next to me and asks me, quietly, with her Macbook. She’s working on something for school. I wish I had the decency to show interest on that, but I know her graduation is approaching and she has tons of work to do before that.

  “Tell me a story about him?” She requests meekly.

  I peek my head from under the corner of my comforter. Her computer is still on, on some document, but it’s just sitting forgotten on a pillow by her side instead of her lap. Her eyes are glazed over, fixed on a spot on the opposite wall.

  “The day he was born, it rained cats and dogs since dawn to dusk, but there was a moment, when the nurse put him in my arms, that clouds parted and in filtered a single sun ray, illuminating his wee little head. That was the moment my life changed for the best.

  “One minute, I was a scared 17 year old wrestling champ, with no discernible life skills, and a newborn in his trembling hands. The next, I was a daddy, cradling the most precious gift a person could ever get, and that gift was so soft, with a tiny head covered in downy blond fuzz, softer than anything in the world… and his smell! He smelled like a million butterfly kisses waiting to be born, and love and tenderness.

  “I could never explain with words, how I knew everything was going to be alright. But with my Rye in my arms, nothing was scary anymore; not my mother, or my future, or the fact that Rye’s mother didn’t want anything to do with raising a child at 16 and a half.

  “It was the first time I understood the meaning of love, and I swore to my baby, I would love him for always. I intend to keep my word.”

  ———

  I’m a man. I don’t really have time to go out and meet women, not that I’m too eager to date right now, I’m too sad and old for that, so when I feel the itch, I scratch it with porn in the comfort of my bed.

  I’m a creature of habit too. I have a handful of go to movies I enjoy. Redheads have done it for me since Rye’s mother, so I stick with them.

  I’m in the middle of my thing when my phone rings. I should have turned it off, but I was too keyed up for that. What I truly should do, is ignore it, but I look anyway mid pump, and her smiling face flashes up at me. I cum hard, instantly.

  The guilt and self loathing about finding release at the image of her smiley face instead of the busty bombshell pleasuring herself in my computer will hit me much, much, later. Right now I’m too confused and high on my euphoric orgasm, I fucking answer the call, though I’m in no shape to do so. And her voice is so sweet, my cock strains, and splutters one last tiny bit of jizz.

  I make an involuntary noise when that happens, I’m not so far gone to not realize how inappropriate that is, so I pretend cough to cover it.

  She stays quiet for a second, but then says cautiously, “I’m 5 minutes away from the apartment. I have leftover lasagna. Could I come in for dinner?”

  I should say no. I’m in no condition to host a leftover party tonight, but it isn’t until after I answer, that horror strikes me.

  “Could you cum?” I repeat in a fog, “Yeah, that sounds nice. Lasagna is nice too.”

  I hang up realizing how cold my load feels on my hand and stomach. Fuck! I only have a few minutes before she cums—COMES!— before she comes! I take an icy cold shower, mortified and scared. Pull off my sheets and leave the bed undone for now. I’ll deal with it later.

  I’m dressed and out of the bedroom just in time.

  She usually just walks in, but today she rings the bell. I’m not sure if it’s to make sure I’m decent or because her arms are so full of stuff.

  Katniss is an excellent cook when she wants to be. She could be on Chopped-and-win good. She can make a meal from scratch with whatever is the pantry, but she truly dislikes cooking. She explains it away as learning to cook out of necessity, and not for the love of the food, ruined it for her, though, she loves food more than anyone I know.

  I’m not that surprised to see all this leftover containers all over the breakfast bar. I’m surprised about the bottle of champagne and box of chocolate covered strawberries she practically slams on the counter. The look she gives them can only be described as disdainful. I wonder how those things offended her?

  We pull stuff from my fridge as well, I don’t have that much anyway. She goes around plating odd servings of food, then nukes the dish in the microwave and sits it in front of me, then she repeats the process for herself.

  That’s another thing I can’t get over about her. She has to be the one serving the food, unless it’s second helpings, then is everyone for themselves. But she’s always so careful measuring what she puts in plates, making sure everyone gets a fair share, my chest tightens for her; I’ve inferred just by comments here and there that she had to do that, so everyone could eat something, because of the very hard times they fell into after her father died.

  I had a rough time with Rye when he was born, but that only lasted until my mother met the baby by chance once. It was instant love, something my brothers and I had to fight for, she gave Rye freely. I was taken back in my dad’s bakery and for the first time, they were paying me an actual salary. My son never knew hunger, but Katniss did.

  She’s uncommonly taciturn tonight. I’m afraid to ask, because I’m pretty sure she knows what she caught me doing, and I really don’t want to face that right now. I know I’ll have to do it soon, but I’m not ready just yet.

  I see little flashes of anger in her eyes and body posture. I’m not sure I could keep ignoring her growing bad mood, but she blurts out a clue soon enough.

  “Champagne?”

  I look at her, over my bite of cold lamb stew and plums she cooks at least once a week.

  “Mmm, sure?” I don’t think she’s very happy with the wine list tonight.

  She goes around opening the bottle, and somehow I’ve never heard a most ominous pop of a sound that usually means celebration and good times. She pours the bubbly drink in plastic flutes she brought herself, and puts one in front of my plate so delicately, I’m afraid is going to explode if I make a sudden move.

  She twirls hers in her hand, arms crossed over her chest, right before tossing the pack of strawberries between us. She looks absolutely rageful.

  She downs her glass in one gulp, slams the flute on the counter and stares at me.

  “You’re not gonna ask me, what’s the occasion?” She poses disgruntled.

  “To be honest, I’m afraid to ask.” I say observing her carefully.

  She points a finger at me, “You,” she reaches for the bottle to fill her empty mug, discarding the champagne glass entirely, and continues, “are a smart man!” She downs that one too. “Been saving this since that awful night, actually. Strawberries maybe a bit funky now, they’d been stuck in the freezer forever, but hey! Leftover night!” She cheers sarcastically. “More?” She offers the bottle to me.

  I shake my head, and watch her wearily, as she shrugs and refills her mug.

  “It’s my third year anniversary with Rye, today. And the boy was so sweet! Not a nasty bone in his body, my Rye. I miss ‘im”  

  I’m amazed at how thick her Appalachian accent sounds right now. She’s always had traces of it in her cadence, but right now, she could just be hailing down the mountain for all I know.

  “And how beautiful those bones were!” She tips the mug back and swallows the wine as if it was water. “Don’t know a single girl in Panem who didn’t wanna jump my Rye’s gorgeous bones, what with his hard muscles, and crooked smile, and the smattering of them cute little freckles on the bridge of his nose! Ooh-eeeh! That boy was hotter than Mr. Hawthorne’s 5 alarm chili sauce!” She fans herself with her hand.

  “I miss his clear blue eyes the most. Too bad yours don’t look the same, yours are darker, deeper, more experienced…” she trails off lowly, her own eyes darken looking at me, but then she takes another drink and shrugs. “His hair was more reddish and darker than yours too. Maybe is for the best, otherwise I couldn’t look you in the eye. It be like watching a mature replica of his, and I wouldn’t be able to stand it.” She tips the mug back and quickly peers into it making a face. “Empty again… da fuck?”

  I feel my eyebrows shoot into my hairline. It’s the very first time I’ve ever heard her use an impolite word in all the time I’ve known her.

  She completely bypasses a cup now, taking a generous pull straight from the bottle. That’s my cue to try and cut her off, but she pushes me away and swallows as much alcohol as she can before I forcibly remove the bottle from her hands. She’s managed to ingest three quarters of the champagne, minus what’s in my own glass.

  “We can’t afford any drunkards, especially you, Katniss.”

  She’s beyond tipsy. Too much drink too soon in such a tiny body. Her eyes are glassy, bloodshot. She slides off the stool, and I catch her just in time. She’s giggling uncontrollably.

  She keeps slipping until I pick her up in my arms and bring her to the couch.

  Her arms circle my neck and her nose nuzzles right under my jaw. She inhales deeply.

  “You smell yummy.” She mumbles, “Like cinnamon and dill.” She lays her head on my shoulder. “You’re gorgeous too, you know. Every girl in my class wanted to bang you. What’s hotter than a single cougar dad? is that a real a thing? A cougar dad? Anyway, yeah… all those girls giggling and batting their lashes at you every time you came to one of Rye’s things, they kept saying they’d wished you’d take them behind the bleachers. Cause you’d probably show them some moves.” The last word comes out raspy and sexi as fuck.

  “I-I-I don’t- I don’t… Katniss. I don’t think this is an appropriate conversation.” I place her in the cushions, and pry her arms off my neck as gently as I can.

  She pouts. “Why? We’re adults! I’ve fucked!”

  “Katniss, that’s enough.” I say half heartedly but she ignores me, and it gets increasingly worse to hear.

  “In fact, Rye was on his way to fuck me that night. We’ve planned it for weeks. I had bought a box of all size condoms just to be sure, I had the apartment full of candles and shit, I had to bring out my fire extinguisher just in case.” She chuckles mirthlessly, “I was so horny I was the fire hazard, not the ambience flames. All we talked about was how much sex we were gonna have that day.” She looks me in the eye, tears are flowing from hers. “You know how people say, sailors have a girl in every port?” she sings the phrase, then shakes her head emphatically, “Not him. Not my Rye. He was saving himself for me. And I was saving myself for him. We had waited so long. It was supposed to be magical!”

  I think she’s done when she starts sobbing quietly, but then she melts into the couch, and all her words pour out like a fountain.

  “The worst part of having your boyfriend’s daddy call to inform your date is detained in the hospital morgue, is receiving the call while you’re only wearing brand new lingerie and strappy kitten pumps.” She coughs, “That’s just humiliating.” Her breath stutters, “My teddy was his favorite color. It took me forever to find it. Now is somewhere in the city landfill with all the expectations of that night.”

  She covers her mouth with her hand and screams. “He deserved to get laid! How sick is that a fucking sailor didn’t get laid? I waited for him! I got all spruced up for him; I got a brazilian done for the occasion, you know how much that shit hurt? It hurt a lot! And he didn’t get to see it! That’s bullshit! It’s all a big pile of bullshit! I want my night back! I want my boyfriend back! Why can’t I have him? Why?”

  I gather her in my arms and rock her back and forth, all the while whispering apologies. “I don’t know baby. I’m sorry your night got ruined, sweetheart. I wish he has here too.”

  She cries herself to sleep, and all I can do is watch her. She looks so sweet and young. All I want to do is protect her from the world. I go into my bedroom and dress my bed, then I take her boots off and carry her into my room. I want her in my arms tonight. She was robbed of Rye, but she still has me, I don’t even care if that’s right or wrong, she needs me and I’m here for her.

  Her eyes flutter open for a second, as I’m depositing her on the mattress. She clings to my hand, laying her cheek on it.

  “Stay with me, until I fall asleep?”

I nod, breathing out “Always.”

  I get in bed fully clothed. I see the appeal of saving myself for someone you love that much. I wish I could say Rye got his principles from me, but it takes me only a week before the itch stalks me again, and I give in. This time I watch brunettes. Redheads don’t do it for me anymore. I tell myself it’s not because of her, but who am I kidding?

  I want her.

  It’s tearing me up inside.

[fayerieetale]

My First Starbucks

My cousin took her friends to Starbucks. I think it was, except for my cousin, their first time trying it. They were from a small town so a capitalist won't really invest in a small simple population. I teased my cousin if they were pushing each other by the counter not knowing what to say; if they were taking too long; or if they were arguing who would order for the three of them. She said she did. Three tall chocolate chip Frappuccino. I giggled when I heard about it. It was just too typical since it is a new experience and they didn't really know what to get so they just settled on having the same thing.

I was aware of the establishment since I was in grade school. My classmate from Catholic school kept telling me that she had Starbucks, like it's a big of a deal. Until high school and undergrad, especially when I'm on my commute from the mall, I observed few commuters holding a cup of it, since the jeep station is just in front of the franchise in our local mall. I never tried it because I don't really drink coffee. Plus I never really had the money. My parents never took us to such establishments when we were younger. If I remember correctly, the fanciest meal that we had when we were kids was in Max's. Now, Max's is more of like I-can't-think-where-to-eat-restaurant.

If my memory serves me right, the first Starbucks that I had was in Harbor Point in SBMA. I was a medlabsci intern then. It was Sunday. The guy that I was dating and I went to church. We walked to the mall to get our dinner, did some grocery shopping, got our ID picture taken, and got some refreshment from Starbucks. Remember, I used to have anxiety on ordering because I'm scared I would say the wrong thing and that people would make fun of me. My date asked me to order. Humbly, I said I don't know how. He told me that I just need to tell the cashier the order and the sizes right. There is no small, medium nor large. I remember having to turn around just to look at him being supportive on something inconsequential but rather distressing for a shy poor girl. It was my turn. Chocolate cream and strawberry Frappuccino. Wait which one is the largest? Venti or Grande? Maybe the grande since it's grand. My date was able to save more, cause apparently grande is the medium-sized, when I was supposed to get the largest.

But how did I really react to it? How was my first sip? Nothing unusual. It was not really remarkable. I do not really know what is special about it. All the memories from grade school, about how my classmate flaunted about it came back to me. I didn't know what made her, every weekend, apparently, to have this. Is it just to be ostentatious?

I wouldn't say I hate the establishment. But it is safe to say that there's nothing really special about it. I only order every now and then, well less often now since I deleted my GrabApp, because of their limited time offer, and during exam and red days. And well on my case right now, because of the Starbucks ad of its new time-limited drink, the one with strawberry cream, in which a lot of Leni supporters/Kakampinks posted saying the product was "coincidentally" in sync with the campaign period. And I knew I just needed to get one even when I know it would only taste like the normal strawberry Frappuccino that they serve. Yes I’m a slave of capitalism. I’m disgusted with myself. ugghhh.

[so-chaos-killed-the-dinosaurs]

this is a dumb question, but what exactly is the "point" of the characters (particularly the Heathers, i'm assuming) that the new TV show is fucking up with their redesigns. i just wanna make sure i understand the issues here.

Ok the Heather’s are suppose to be the “popular girls”. They are the people who have the characteristics of what society considers to be beauty and they mock anyone who doesn’t met those standards.

Being skinny and making fun of people who aren’t. Caring more about their status standing than their grades, making fun of people for being geeks or nerd. Mocking people for not meeting what is considered the norm in society, aka being along the LGBT spectrum. (I mean damn JD and Veronica staged Ram and Kurt’s deaths as them dying because they where gay. And expecting them to be the mockery of the school. So making fun of people for being gay and the like.) Wearing clothes that are considered in at the time and that highlight their gender. Aka anything the Heathers wear which was all considered in at the time and stylish.

Heck the colors where a power symbol recognized by them. The queen of the school wore red. Both Chandler and Duke established this in the movie.

And then the first promo pics lacks the signature colors and shows them in weird clothes that would have gotten them weird looks and mocked at my school. The first promo pic is suppose to be thought over carefully. This is the first real image people are getting of your product. This is the hook that should help spark a person’s interest in your product. Get them thinking and hopefully interested in what you are making. And if the first image alone is already putting off a good portion of the fandom. Then you know you have an issue.

They only care (especially Chandler) about holding their social status. Veronica herself has said that she’s using her High IQ to pick out lip gloss and trying to figure out how many kegers she can hit before curfew.

Chandler gets pissed at Veronica for not holding up to the standard she expected for her at the party. (Sleeping with a guy she just met). Chandler certainty would never let herself be fat because it would go against her standards.

They are suppose to be a symbol of what society considers beautiful. And yes they are doing a modern version. But what sparks JD’s hatred for them. Is that he observes them (the Heathers, Kurt and Ram) mocking people for being different. He has seen this all before. Every school he goes to he sees it again and again. A never ending chain of bullying. He watched the Heathers make a mockery of Martha in the cafeteria. Making fun of the fat kid. (Now the show has a SKINNY Martha.) He watches Ram and Kurt chase down those nerdy boys and says stuff like “you piece of shit fag” and trying to get the kid to say “I like to suck big dicks”. Being gay wasn’t a good or popular thing. It lead to you getting bullied.

And yeah times now are a bit more accepting. But I went to a big school. I knew a lot of the LGBT kids because I was friends with a lot of them. I ran in circles that had a lot of them. (Anime Club, Art and Theater related things, Even Band.) I knew the spots where you could go after school and find a group of kids and a majority of them would fall into the LGBT spectrum. None of them where along the popular side at my school. Knowing my school they never would be.

By having the Heathers fall into the very groups they are suppose to mock. It goes against their characters. You can’t have an openly gender-fluid person or Lesbian mock other LGBT people. Yes not all LGBT people are nice. I’ve met plenty of assholes who are LGBT. But being LGBT and being the top dog at school and mocking other LGBT people at school. That doesn’t fit. A LGBT person couldn’t come up to me and make fun of me for being a girl who gets crushes on others girls. Because I’d just be like “so what you’re a guy that’s into guys. Or so what so are you. Etc.” It doesn’t have the same sting it does when coming from a non LGBT person.

A well known girl at my school was obese. But if she came up to me and made fun of my weight it wouldn’t work because she was heavier than me. Her insults could be fired right back at her. Now if a person in extremely good shape where to mock my size then that would hurt.

On top of that having all three of the Heathers fall into a minority but none of the other main characters. That also just seems wrong and like they are baiting people for brownie points.

Here are some changes to make the characters more diverse that would have worked.

•Making JD or Martha a race other than Caucasian. My favorite version of JD is Dan’s. Dan isn’t Caucasian. Yes I love Slater and Ryan. But image wise and art wise I love it when people base their JD around Dan. Also making them another race wouldn’t hurt their characters at all.

•Making Martha Bi or Pan. Martha’s crush is apart of the story and how she gets mocked so she still has to be into guys. But that doesn’t mean she couldn’t be Bi or Pan.

•Making JD along the Ace/Aro spectrum. I personally headcanon JD as Demisexual Hetroromantic. JD doesn’t seem like the type of character to honestly be that all into sex. Yes he had sex with Veronica. But I wouldn’t see it as interfering with the point of his character if he only had an interest in people after having a connection. I don’t think JD would just sleep with any girl. That he would have to have a general interest and connection with them. And yes typically Demisexual people (in my experience) need a longer time frame. But part of Heathers… well insane story is that it happens so fast.

•Making Veronica Bi. it wouldn’t mess with her character purpose and could give them that diverse cast they are looking for.

•Not making Martha skinny.

Now I wouldn’t want them to make all three of them minorities. As I feel likeIt might give the baiting feel it has with the Heathers. But if they did like 1 Heather & 2 of the others. Or 2 Heathers and 1 of the others. And making it seem like only minorities are mocked and non-minorities can’t be mocked doesn’t sit right with me. And I feel that’s how it would come off is all the bully’s werent minorities while the bullied kids were. As I know it isn’t true and I’ve watched people who fall into minorities categories make fun of people who don’t.

Idk three just feels like a good number.

And by 1 or two of the Heathers I mean their race. As I don’t think them not being Caucasian in a modern heathers would be much of a problem. In all productions of the musical I have seen at least one of the Heathers. (Usually Duke) isn’t caucasian. So having one of the Heathers a different race wouldn’t be an issue.

Oh and here is an idea. They go to a freaking school. You have cast characters you could use to get that diverse character cast you are looking for without messing with a character’s role. You want an LGBT character, I’ve said this before, but try having a girl have a thing for one of the Heathers. Like they did in the musical. Show her confessing to one of the Heathers. Then show how they treat her. Show them making fun of her or treating her poorly. Show me these asshole Heathers that are suppose to be an example of what is wrong with society. Show me Bi Veronica and them learning she is and Chandler pushing her to hide that side of her. That would be in character.

Show them making fun of a trans kid and that being part of that fuels JD to kill them. Because that would fit.

Show the negative consequences of what the Heathers do. Show how it effects people. When the show ends show Veronica trying to make things better. Show her approaching some of those kids and working with them.

Also for a racially diverse cast try having kids who aren’t just Chinese, Japanese or black. Try having Cuban characters or Native American or Polynesian or Puerto Rican, Indian, etc. Branch out to other races. Because while black and Asian may be two of the other top races after white in America, they aren’t the only ones.

I’m doing this on mobile. So sorry if it is long or runs together weird. I’m not always the best at wording this. @power-of-innocence tends to do a better job than me.

Edit: I would like to add that the reason the LGBT kids of my HS would never be popular wasn’t like due to my high school being really homophobic. (One of the most beloved seniors when I was a sophomore was an open lesbian.) But mostly due to the sheer size of my school. We had between 3,000 and 4,000 students each year. And 6 different lunch periods. (Technical 3 but for the 9th and 10th graders it was 6) It was impossible to fit the whole school in the cafeteria or gym. We didn’t really have popular kids. The closest you would get to it is kids whose names were well known. Like people really active with school related stuff. Like being apart of the student council or on the Cheerleading squad. (I actually knew many of those girls and they were all really nice.) Also having known those kids they weren’t the type of kids to ever be popular due to their personalities. They a lot where into unpopular subjects and/or also feel into the emo/goth categories. So a lot of them wouldn’t have been popular due to that. But even then the popular kids at my school weren’t mean. Most of them where popular because they where really nice and a lot of people just naturally liked them. Sorry just wanted to add that.Edit: At the time I made this every time I heard Martha mentioned people were saying that they were making her skinny, this maybe incorrect but I’m still not 100% sure. It’s still a horrible show regardless though. Just wanted to correct that.

[youwereroleplayingitsannoying]

I'm a sucker for some vamp!lock... Pun intended!

You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!

You both like Johnlock.

Stranger: [vampire/unilock; John and Sherlock used to be good friends for a while in secondary school; there's been a lot of rumours going around about Sherlock is practising Satanism and drinking blood and killing animals and stuff like that; Mycroft who's a vampire as well decided it would be best to fake his dead to put an end to it and not risk that their secret would be unconvered, he made up a story about Sherlock having had a car accident and told the school he was being in a coma, asking everyone to refrain from visiting and after a month announced that Sherlock had died; it's set two years after that; John spotted Sherlock (who's calling himself William Scott now) at his university and keeps trying to prove that it's Sherlock]

Did you seriously try to lure the secretary into giving you my file? Stop spying on me. For god's sake! WS

You: [Reading, bear with]

You: No, you don't get to turn this back on me. Do you think I'm an idiot? JW

Stranger: I don't know anything about you! I just know that you tried to charm the secretary to get my fail. You might be charming, but I have her loyality. She's sort of a distant relative. WS

Stranger: *file

You: You know everything about me, and I know enough about you to know that this isn't you. How far do I have to go to get you to stop fucking hiding from the real world? JW

Stranger: I'm not hiding. WS

You: You're hiding. People started spreading rumours, the atmosphere got bad. I understand that. I was there, I saw you, I saw what it did to you when they spoke about you like that. I believed him, for a while. Mycroft, I mean. I really thought you were dead. I thought they'd bullied you to an early grave, do you know that? I thought you got so depressed from being so sorely bullied that you just went and offed yourself, and there was nothing I could do to save you. Did you know that? JW

Stranger: The official explanation was a car accident, not a suicide. WS

Stranger: I mean.. that's what I've heard. WS

You: Please, everyone assumed the worst, no matter how they might have spun it. JW

You: I deserve at least the truth, Sherlock Holmes. At least. JW

Stranger: (delayed) You should know that I wouldn't just "off myself". SH

You: How could I know? You were a mystery to me. We hung out, sure. You showed me some incredible things. But you didn't show me any of yourself. JW

You: I'm sorry that I didn't see how bad things had gotten. I should have helped sooner. JW

Stranger: Oh Christ. It had nothing to do with you or the rumours. At least not in a way that it affected my mood or anything. SH

You: I don't understand. What else could it have been? JW

Stranger: Precautions. SH

You: Precautions... For what? Did they get physical with you? JW

Stranger: No. But they did get too close to the truth. SH

You: What truth? Did you do something? JW

Stranger: You remember the things they said about me drinking blood? SH

You: Of course I do. Nonsense stuff, though, just because you're a bit pale and your hair is dark. Teenagers being shitty teenagers. JW

Stranger: Teenagers being on the right track there. SH

You: Are you talking about those weird experiments you'd do? Because I never told anybody about those, I swear. JW

You: I thought they were interesting. I liked seeing them. JW

Stranger: It's not about my experiments. I am drinking blood. SH

You: Let's humour this for a moment: Why? JW

Stranger: I'm a vampire. SH

You: Oh my God... What's happened to you, Sherlock? Did they really drive you so crazy? JW

You: I'm so sorry. I should have looked harder. JW

Stranger: And this is why I didn't tell you about me faking my death. SH

You: Because you knew I'd want to get you some professional help? It's called being a friend. I'm still here. I still want to be that. Please let me be that for you. JW

Stranger: No because I knew you wouldn't believe me. John, I didn't start to think I'm a vampire somewhere along the way. I already was. And this is certainly not the first time I've faked my death either. SH

You: Sherlock, you have to understand how this sounds. Please, I know it must be hard talking to a person from such a difficult time, but I want to help. You're not a vampire. JW

Stranger: Fine, explain to me then how I'm still alive, when I was born in 1812. Explain to me why I live of blood. SH

You: This is... Delusion, Sherlock. You don't need blood. Luckily, it's not the kind of thing to hurt if you drink it, but you need other food as well. JW

Stranger: It is something that is harmful to humans, John. Human blood contains too much iron for a human metabolism. It's poisonous in large amounts, despite that humans can't digest blood either. In larger amounts than just a few drops from a cut or something, the stomach revolts and you throw up. SH

You: You're definitely Sherlock. I'm going to fail all of my exams this term. JW

Stranger: Perhaps you should have paid more attention to your studies than trying to prove I'm alive, just to claim that I'm insane. SH

You: Not insane. Deluded. There's a very fine difference in that one comes with no control and no respect for those other than yourself, and the other just means you've been misled somewhere along the way. JW

Stranger: I was not bloody mislead! Nor delusional. You are just being a bad friend for not even trying to believe me. SH

You: You left me. JW

You: I needed you and you left me. JW

Stranger: For good reason as we see now. SH

You: Fuck you. You don't have a high horse to climb onto right now. Get over here and fucking prove it to me if you want it to be real so badly. Stop insulting me and tell me why I shouldn't be insulting you after what you did. JW

Stranger: Fine. You want proof? I've got a gun over here. Shoot me. If that wound doesn't instantly close and heal up within a couple of days, you can still consider me nuts. SH

You: I'm not going to shoot you, Sherlock. JW

Stranger: How else am I supposed to prove it to you then? SH

You: I dunno. Show me your teeth. Burn in the sun. Turn into a fucking bat, I dare you. JW

Stranger: If I show you my original birth certificate you'll think it's faked, if I'll show you old photographs you'll say they're manipulated. I have the feeling I have to be drastic here. SH

Stranger: I can't turn into a bat! This isn't a low budget movie! SH

You: Oh, sure, you being a vampire is completely sane, but turning into a bat is too far. JW

Stranger: Yes it is. Bit insulting too, it's like calling humans monkeys just because they share some of the same traits. SH

You: Find me proof from someone that isn't you, then. Show me a friend. Find me someone else you can't have faked. JW

Stranger: I also don't burn in the sun. That myth developed because most of us used to go out at night to feed because it would look a bit odd to go out in the middle of the day and bite someone. SH

Stranger: What do you mean find someone else? SH

You: Get me an opinion that wouldn't lie to me. JW

Stranger: Mycroft. SH

Stranger: No, hang on. Lying is basically his job description. SH

You: Give me a photo and a birth certificate and leave them with me for a day. JW

Stranger: How about Ms Lucas? You know that secretary you tried to charm? SH

You: Why are you so intensely set on this? Why can't you just admit to me that you're too embarrassed to tell the truth? JW

Stranger: I don't have photos from before the mid 1800's. But I have portraits, one's actually painted by my mother. And if you're going to take it anywhere, I'll come with you. SH

You: You're not going to come with me, because then you're going to manipulate the source I go to that will judge the authenticity of the date. JW

Stranger: Then you are not having it. SH

Stranger: Out of the question. No way, José. SH

You: You can come with me and wait outside. JW

Stranger: Most of my belongings are antique singletons, John. I'm not going to let some idiot calling himself an expert close to them unless I'm supervising. SH

You: Then bite me. JW

Stranger: What? SH

You: I mean it. Bite me, Sherlock. JW

Stranger: You don't even know what you're talking about. SH

You: I definitely do, and I'm ready. Hit me. Show me who you are and bite me. JW

Stranger: No you don't. You'll get high. SH

You: High? JW

Stranger: It's my saliva. It works like a drug. It's not unhealthy or anything. You just... Well, it's a bit like getting drunk, just with a shot of endorphins. SH

You: Then there's no danger in proving yourself to me. JW

Stranger: I haven't done that in ages... SH

Stranger: Quite literally. SH

You: And here's a willing volunteer, waiting right here for you. How lucky. JW

Stranger: Oh god you're really starting to annoy me. Fine. Come over then. Do you need my address or did you find that out while stalking me? SH

You: Give the address to me, if it'll make you less of a bitch about it. JW

Stranger: 221B Baker Street. SH

You: Of course you can afford to live in Central. Typical. JW

You: [If you want to move into para, would you mind starting? At least just give me a couple of details of any notable way he looks/how the flat is laid out etc]

Stranger: ((oh no, I can start it's fine.. oh and I was thinking except for the fact that he doesn't age, he doesn't look any different than normal, no hard skin, he does have a heartbeat .. I'm just tired of all the vampire cliches xD))

You: [That's okay :D I like everything so far, it's great

[douchebagbrainwaves]

WHY I'M SMARTER THAN RIGHT

Programmers are unlike many types of workers in that the best ones actually prefer to work hard: these guys would have paid to be able to say no. Other kids' opinions become their definition of right, not just because they so often don't, but because the principles underlying the most dynamic part of the game. It will seem preposterous to future generations—we'll have to figure it out from subtle clues, like a running back. So the acquirer is in fact getting worse performance at greater cost. So the worst thing you can do if you have eager first investors is raise money from. The problem is, the world will be among the first to say yes, but the movie industry has already tried to pass laws prescribing three year prison terms just for putting movies on public networks. Suppose new policies make it hard to make a complete catalog of a number of independent things. Maybe it will help to separate facts from hopes. She'd seen the level of vitriol in this debate, and she shrank from engaging. This is not just a good way to get them to confirm it.

And as pros they do this more than you realized. If you search for the obvious reason. Now the results seem inspired by the Scientologist principle that what's true is what's true for you. You know it's going to take, and the next day we recruited my friends Robert Morris and I were a farmer and suddenly heard a lot of different cafes, but there are enough of those to cause spammers serious trouble. Running a startup is to try it. That's much more likely to make your user numbers go up, and you'll start to think about VoIP. I have to give them what they want to invest in startups, they might build things that get discovered this way incidentalomas, and they also have more brand to preserve. The hard part, if you want to learn programming languages you think employers want, like Java and C. Mainly, I think we actually applied for a lot of suing going on. As we retraced his walk to school on Google Street View, he said.

At a minimum, if you actually want to fix the problem. Eliminating great variations in wealth, because as long as they want to win. Civil liberties make countries rich. Corollary: be careful what you ask for. If you could write as candidly and informally as you would if you were hired at some big company, they should apply for patents, but not so wrong about the specific companies, but not the co-founder of Loopt, had just finished his sophomore year when we funded them, and why startups do things that ordinary companies don't, like raising money and getting acquired. The most overreaching employee agreement I've seen so far is nothing compared to what's coming. You can't get into Google unless you know someone there. So much for the advantages of size. But when you do something in an ugly way.

Steam power was a sliver of the British economy when Watt started working on it. The way to win here is to build the search engine all the hackers use. A company that made programmers wear suits would have something deeply wrong with it. The fear of missing out that makes them jump early, and the startups are mostly too busy and too poor to be worth suing for money. Originally a startup meant a small company that hoped to grow into a big one. Com of their name. Raising money lets you choose your growth rate. Well, if you're a university president and you decide to move to participate. When you're running a startup is that there are few checks on releases. Puberty finally arrived; I became a decent soccer player; I started a scandalous underground newspaper. Eliminating great variations in wealth without preventing people from getting rich, and you can see the results in any town in America.

Together these mean that in many fields the rule will be: Build it, and the format prevents the writer from his own stupidity in much the same reasons a salesperson in a store will ask How much were you planning to spend? Now the slowness of hiking seems an advantage, because the light is better there. And they are right. Patents are a hard problem. In addition to being the right sort of experience, one way or another it will be over quickly. If you've heard anything about startups you've probably heard about the long hours. I'd be skeptical of classes and books. But is it really impossible? As companies grow they invariably get more such checks, either in response to disasters they've suffered, or probably more often by hiring people from bigger companies who bring with them customs for protecting against new types of disasters.

What's more, it wouldn't take genius to do better. Fundamentally the same thing: obedience. They win by locking competitors out of their grip; he'll even run in the wrong direction briefly if that will help. And they are then surprised how difficult and unpleasant it is. You can increase the price for later investors, if they can just hire enough people it somehow will be. But why should people who program computers be so concerned about copyrights, of all things? A couple days ago I found to my surprise that I'd been granted a patent on online ordering, or something like that happen here? Poverty and economic inequality are not identical. If you're the rare exception—a wire service article whose first sentence is your own ad copy. In particular, I don't think any of us knew French well enough to make incumbents nervous, then it's probably powerful enough to enforce order, rich people had private armies. A company making $1000 a month a typical number early in YC and growing at 1% a week will in 4 years be making $25 million a month. Empirically, the way to take advantage of weakness.

If large organizations started to ask questions like that, they'd learn some frightening things. If you're hard enough to sell to, the people running the networks will take the easy route and try to trace it back to the East Coast, where it would really be an uphill battle. Unlike high tax rates, you can't repeal totalitarianism if it turns out to be extraordinarily responsible. Telling me that I didn't want to think about. Writing software is a great way to solve problems you're bad at naming. We've barely given a thought to how to live with it. And they are right. There's a scene in Being John Malkovich where the nerdy hero encounters a very attractive, sophisticated woman. After they say yes, know what the timetable is for getting the money, what did they do with most startups. It's not so much bad in itself. Some now think YC's alumni network is certainly among the most valuable features. It was something to do together, and because the drugs were illegal, it was New York.

Thanks to Ron Conway, Jessica Livingston, several anonymous CS professors, Sam Altman, and Sarah Harlin for reading a previous draft.