#I swear I’ve been meaning to come back for forever but executive order AND school are the worst duo I would wish upon no one

[idiot-arih]

If uncorrupted Nightmare is called passive noot, can we call corrupted noot aggressive noot?

[phantasticworks]

If You Don’t Love Me, Pretend - Chapter Nineteen

Four months without uploading she comes back with a new chapter! Thank you so much for your patience i love you guys! I don’t know that I’ll be going back to my previous weekly posting schedule with everything going on in my life right now, but I hope this can tide you guys over until I can finish the story! 

read on ao3

Words: 11.5k

Summary: Dan and Phil have some talks about parenting and make plans. 

Warnings for this chapter: swearing and a disgusting amount of fluff 

It's a few days later when Dan finds himself in his office at school, looking over the schedule change requests that he's received over the past week. He's just added another to the pile of finished requests when his work phone starts trilling on the desk by his elbow.

“Hello, you’ve reached the office of Daniel Howell at Queensbury Secondary School, how can I-”

“Dan, it’s me,” Phil’s voice interrupts him. “Is this a- a bad time?”

"Oh! Sorry, yes- I mean no, it’s a fine time. A great time. I’m just going through some forms. What’s up? Is everything okay?”

"Yeah, everything's fine." Phil clears his throat and there's a pause that Dan doesn't know what to make of. "I’ve been meaning to ask you something."

Dan feels the tendrils of anxiety gripping at his chest now. "Okay," he says slowly, setting his papers down in front of him. "What is it?"

Phil doesn't waste any time. "Well- okay, I don’t particularly want to go, but I know you’re interested in everything that goes on with mental health charities and you told me about the thing you wanted to do at the school, and I think that’s really cool and maybe this will give you a chance to network with people already involved and-”

Dan can’t help but laugh at the rambling words, tripping over themselves in their haste. “Spit it out, bub, what’s your question?”

Phil takes a shaky breath. “So, the BBC is doing a fundraising event for a mental health charity. I wanted to know if you'd like to attend with me." His words are quick and short, like the request is a time bomb and he’ll explode if he doesn’t get it all out at once.

It takes Dan a moment to process the request, and when he does, a stupid part of his brain wants to ask for clarification on the nature of this joint outing. But he's not about to ask Phil if it's a date because that would be both ridiculous and mortifying, and besides, he already knows with his rational brain that it isn't. "When is it?" he asks instead.

"It's next Friday, a week from today."

Dan is opening his calendar as Phil speaks, checking to see if they have any prior events scheduled. They don't, which isn't too strange for a Friday night. He chews on his lip as he considers the offer. He's really interested in mental health charities and it would be great to get some more information about how they work and network with some of the people who actually work there. He's been trying to get the school board to approve a mental health support group for the secondary school for over a year, something only Phil and Louise are aware of. This would be perfect. The only thing holding him back...

"You know we'd have to deal with your nosy coworkers the whole night? And it'll be different being couple-y around other adults," Dan informs him. "I'm not saying I don't want to go, but..."

"I don't care. I think we can handle it, and I honestly don't care what they think about how we're acting or aren't acting." Phil's voice is firm and sure, and Dan wonders if he expected Dan to object for this very reason. "I want you there with me, if you want to be."

Dan smiles down at his desk at this. "Okay."

"You'll go?" Phil sounds mildly surprised, but overall very pleased.

"Yeah. I'd love to go with you."

Phil lets out what sounds like a relieved breath. "Okay. Perfect."

"I'd say see you then, but we live together," Dan jokes. He grins when he hears Phil snort.

"Bye, Dan. I'll see you at home later. Drive safe."

"Bye, Phil."

~~~

It's not until Dan gets home that evening that he realizes that in order for them to go out for an evening by themselves, they'll have to find someone to babysit the kids. It's a strange thought, suddenly. They hadn't really had a situation yet where neither of them could watch the kids, and it was strange to think that he was at the point in his life where he needed to enlist the help of another adult outside of his family to watch his children. He wasn't sure how he felt about it.

After sending all three of the kids off to do their homework, Dan makes his way to the kitchen to sort out their dinner plans for the evening. He's perusing their selection in the pantry when he hears the front door click shut. Rather than go to meet Phil at the door, Dan makes the executive decision to have pasta for dinner, moving over to the fridge to make sure they have everything they need.

"Hey," Phil greets from behind him.

Dan glances over, smiling at him. "Hi. Good day at work?"

Phil shrugs, dropping his jacket on the back of a chair haphazardly before coming to rifle through the cabinet next to Dan. "It was alright, yeah. How was yours?"

"Just another day. Nothing that exciting, I guess." He closes the fridge without looking inside, turning to rest his palm against the counter beside it as he studies Phil. "So, we need to find someone to watch the kids on Friday."

It takes Phil a few more minutes of rummaging through the shelves before he glances at Dan. "Alright. I can ask Martyn if he's busy?"

Dan nods. "That's fine. If he can't, we can find someone else” Dan snorts then, a thought occurring. “Honestly, it’s an hour from here to Reading, Mum could come babysit if we really needed her to."

"Sure." Phil turns to face him with a smile, revealing a little bag of mini marshmallows. He stares Dan dead in the eyes as he rips it open and pops a handful of the colorful treats into his mouth.

Dan quirks a brow, crossing his arms. "You insolent shit, you're spoiling your dinner," he chastises, chewing on the corner of his lip to hide his smile.

Phil shrugs as his hand sneaks back up to his mouth. "Want some?" He offers.

Rolling his eyes, Dan lets out a huff. "You're a child," he says, hauling himself to sit up on the counter as he holds a hand out. "Give me some pink ones, they're the best."

The sheepish grin that lights up Phil's face is definitely worth spoiling his appetite. He steps between Dan’s legs and carefully pours out a small handful of marshmallow treats into Dan's palm, and then proceeds to pick out the white and blue ones for himself. Dan's chest is flooded with warmth as he watches the childlike glee on his best friend's face. It's immensely precious, a secret thought he holds close to his heart.

"I don't think they actually taste any different," Phil's saying. Dan barely hears him. "I'm pretty sure they all just taste of marshmallows. Like, vanilla, or whatever it is that marshmallows taste of."

“Mhm,” Dan hums, the pink marshmallow dust sweet on his lips as he enjoys his coveted snack.

~~~

"Could you pause your game, guys? We wanted to have a chat with you about something," Dan says. He and Phil had agreed that they needed to go ahead and tell the kids about their plans to leave them with a sitter for an evening, so they could go ahead and get used to the idea now. So, after finishing their covert snack, they'd gone upstairs where the twins were deep in a Mario Kart race, Levi coaching them both from the armchair.

At Dan's words, the three of them exchange a series of panicked looks. He'd nearly laugh if his heart didn't break at how the connotation of a "talk" has truly traumatized them forever.

"Everything’s fine, we promise," Phil prefaces, moving to sit on the sofa closest to the stairs. Dan follows, perching on the arm beside him. Almost without thinking, Phil drapes his arm over Dan's thighs, while Dan's arm falls to Phil's shoulder.

"Okay..." Levi says. Jaiden pauses the game and drops the joy-con, turning to face Dan and Phil completely. "Are we in trouble?" He asks.

Dan tilts his head to the side, smiling. "Have you done something to be in trouble for?"

Levi looks confused but shakes his head. "I don't think so?" He sounds unsure.

Phil nudges Dan's stomach with his elbow, gently digging into his skin. "You're not in trouble, bub, no. But, we just wanted to tell you guys that a week from today, Dan and I have an event to attend. So, we'll be finding a sitter to come stay with you that evening."

Amelia immediately perks up. "Can it be Miss Louise?" She asks excitedly.

Smirking, Dan shares a look with Phil. "We'll see. We might ask Phil's brother Martyn and his wife Cornelia to do it, but if they can't, we'll see if Louise will."

She doesn't look particularly happy about it, but Amelia nods in understanding. Jaiden doesn't seem too bothered either way, his hands twitching towards the joy-con as he clearly waits for them to say that was all.

Glancing at Levi, Dan can tell immediately that they're not all on board with the idea. "Levi? Would you be alright with that? It would only be for a few hours."

Levi shrugs, then shakes his head. "Why can't I watch them?" He asks, gesturing vaguely to his siblings. "I'm fifteen, I could stay here and take care of them."

Dan shares a look with Phil. They hadn't considered this. But, knowing each other as long as they have, their mental-symbiosis gives Dan the idea that maybe it wouldn't be the best idea, or at least they needed to discuss it in more detail first.

"We'd prefer to have someone else be here with you," Phil says carefully. "If there’s an emergency or something, we think it'd be best to have an adult here."

Levi shrugs, staring down at his feet and saying nothing.

“But, we’ll consider it, yeah?” Dan adds, sending Phil an imploring look. The older man shrugs, but nods. “Just give us some time to talk about it before we make a decision.”

“Okay,” Levi answers.

Dan moves his arm to pat Phil’s chest. “Let’s go start dinner.”

Phil nods, allowing Dan to drag him from the sofa and off towards the stairs. Dan’s mind is already building a pros and cons list for Levi’s request, so it’s not until they’re already downstairs that he realizes he and Phil are still holding hands. A little embarrassed, Dan releases his grip, mumbling something about starting some pasta.

"So, do you reckon we really ought to consider letting Levi stay here alone with them?" Phil asks quietly, moving to pull two wine glasses from their cupboard.

Humming, Dan pulls a box of pasta from the pantry, looking for a jar of pasta sauce and huffing when he can't find it. "I think we owe it to him to at least have a conversation about it, yeah."

A contemplative silence settles over the kitchen, punctuated by the sound of Phil pouring wine into the glasses. Dan finally spots the jar of sauce, hiding behind a box of crackers. He sets it beside the pasta before moving to the other side of Phil to rummage through the cupboard for a sauce pan.

"Honestly... As long as he keeps his phone on him, and checks in with us fairly often throughout the night... I wouldn't mind him watching them."

Dan's head snaps up at this, and he stares at Phil in surprise. He hadn't expected Phil to actually be on board with the idea. He tries to school his expression into something more neutral as he fills the pan with water and sets it on the stove, clearing his throat before speaking. "Yeah? It doesn't bother you?"

Phil hands him a glass of wine, shrugging. "Not really. I trust him to be responsible. I mean, we let him stay home from school by himself and he was fine."

Dan chews his lip as he stares at the water. He's not sure how to voice his opinion on this without sounding like he doesn't also think it's probably a good idea. "This is different, though," he says gently, blinking up at Phil. "We'd be holding him accountable for two children."

"I mean, yeah. But, I think he loves them enough that he'd keep them safe and be responsible with them." Phil pauses then, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. "Are you... Do you think maybe we shouldn't let him?"

Taking a sip of the wine, Dan waves a hand dismissively. "That's not it," he says after he's swallowed. "I actually don't think it's a bad idea, I just... I don't know, I just didn't expect you to be so on board with it." He tries not to sound accusing. It's not an accusation.

Phil shrugs, scratching a fingernail against the counter absently. "Am I usually that strict?" He sounds sad, or maybe nervous.

Dan smiles softly. Reaching out, he tugs on the pocket of Phil's hoodie, dragging him closer and resting his head on Phil's shoulder. "Not exactly. Sometimes you're just more cautious about them than I am. You think through the situations more than I do, so sometimes you're a little more reserved about these kinds of things."

There's a soft huff of laughter that ruffles through Dan's curls. "I guess you're right," Phil agrees. He kisses Dan's hairline before gently shrugging him off, moving to grab the pasta to pour it into the boiling water. "So... Have we decided we're okay with letting him stay here with them?"

"I think so, yeah. If you're okay with it." Dan watches him pour the pasta in, reaching for the drawer to hand him a spoon when Phil needs it.

"I am. We'll talk to him after dinner, yeah?"

Dan nods. "Sure."

Phil steps back into his space and wordlessly pulls Dan against his chest again. Dan tucks his hands into Phil's hoodie pocket and hooks his chin over Phil's broad shoulder. Phil wraps his arms around Dan's shoulders and sighs. "You need a haircut," he whispers.

With a snort, Dan tilts his head and bites at a lock of Phil's hair. "So do you, mate."

"Can you call for a hair appointment tomorrow?" Phil requests, his voice a little timid.

Dan can't help but smile at this. Phil's grown his confidence over the years they've known each other, but there were lots of times after first settling into their friendship that he would ask Dan to make calls for him, always claiming he was too forgetful or lazy to do it himself. It took a couple years for Dan to understand the real reason.

"Phil? You alright?" Dan had asked through the bathroom door. Phil had been retching on the other side for close to five minutes now, and Dan was panicking, completely out of his element here. He was barely twenty, he didn't know how to really take care of anyone when they're ill, not like this.

"I'm fine," Phil had called weakly.

"You sound kind of… not fine," Dan had countered, trying for gentle.

It had taken a little while, but eventually Phil caved. "Could you call my mum?"

"Er- yeah? What- why do you need to speak to your mum?" Dan had been completely confused by then. Phil was a massive mumma's boy, but in the year or so they'd properly lived together, Dan had never known him to call her while he was ill.

"I just- please, Dan." Phil had sounded so pitiful, but Dan was more worried now than before.

"Can you let me in, Phil?" Dan had asked softly.

Phil did, but he did not seem pleased by it. He looked everywhere but at Dan, settling back against the tiled floor of the bathroom and closing his eyes weakly. "I need mum to call in a prescription for me."

Dan's brows had crinkled in confusion. "For what?" Before Phil could answer, Dan had remembered Phil mentioning his terrible migraines, and vaguely remembered him coming home with a little white paper bag from the pharmacy. "Your migraines?"

Phil nodded mutely.

“I can call it in. Where's your phone?"

Phil had barely had the energy to look surprised, but after Dan found the phone and called the prescription in, he went about making Phil some soup and doing his best to take care of him as well as he could, with his limited knowledge. Later that evening, with Buffy playing in the background, Phil had quietly told Dan that he had sometimes found it extremely difficult to do phone calls or things like that. “I know it’s stupid and- and everyone else thinks it’s easy, but it honestly just makes me feel so bad that I’d rather just. Not."

"I wish you would have told me," Dan had mumbled. "I can make calls for you. It doesn't bother me."

Many years later, though, and now Dan understands the extent of Phil's social anxiety better than he did back then. Phil does as well, which makes it a bit easier for him to try and get a grip on it, but still, he sometimes struggles. But Dan's always there to help when that happens, and he can't imagine there ever being a time when he isn't.

"Sure. We probably need to get Levi and Jai's done while we're at it." Dan laughs a little before adding, "I reckon we should see if Mia would like a trim, too. God knows that child can't stand to be left out." He smiles against Phil's shoulder when he hears him giggle.

"She really can't, can she?" He muses, his fingers playing idly with the ends of Dan's hair.

"Mm," Dan hums in vague agreement. He sighs before pulling out of Phil's grip to stir the pasta. He pouts when Phil fully steps away, grabbing his glass of wine and taking a large sip. Dan's about to tease him when he hears the unmistakable sound of the twins thundering down the stairs. He rolls his eyes as Phil huffs, clearly slightly agitated at their inability to remember that they shouldn't run inside. "Is it really even worth it to keep chastising them about it?" Dan asks, sipping his own wine.

Phil snorts. "It's the principle of the thing, Daniel."

Still, when the twins burst into the kitchen, Phil doesn't say a word. Dan smirks at him, but Phil pretends he doesn't notice.

"What's for dinner?" Amelia asks, tapping her hands in an off-beat rhythm on the table.

"Spaghetti," Dan tells her, glancing over his shoulder and finding Jaiden staring out the balcony door, probably at his pigeons. He turns to look at Phil, gesturing to their son. "Will you help him with the birds? It's been a few days since we've put seed out."

Phil nods, and Dan focuses on checking to see if the pasta's done. He hears Phil grabbing the bag of bird seed, instructing the twins out the door and onto the balcony. They're gone for several minutes, and when they come back in, Dan glances over at them with a small smile.

"I don't know, Jai-bird. I can't really tell if the birds are girls or boys, but you can name them whatever you want anyway," Phil is saying.

Jaiden seems to consider this. "Could I just name all the fat ones Behemoth?"

Dan snorts.

"Uh, sure, bubby. Whatever you want." Phil sends Dan a baffled look, and Dan only shrugs, grinning.

Amelia and Jaiden settle at the table, arguing over pigeon names, while Phil returns back to the stove, rolling his eyes. Dan smirks, poking Phil in the stomach gently. "Did you find one thicc bird?"

Phil wrinkles his nose delicately. "Ew. Don't say that."

Dan giggles helplessly, stepping away when Phil gestures to the pasta, obviously intending on draining it. He gets as far as the sink, but as soon as he sets the pan down in order to grab the strainer, a little wave of water splashes over the side and onto his hand. "Shit!" he squeals, his eyes flying wide immediately after, glancing between the twins and Dan in a panic.

Amelia gasps. "You said a Daddy word!" She shouts gleefully.

Ducking forward, Dan quickly takes the pan away and turns the cool water on, taking Phil's injured hand and sticking it under the stream. He prays Phil's too stunned to register what she said.

"I'm sorry, I- wait, what?" Phil's head snaps to the side and he glares at Dan.

Well, shit.

"A Daddy word," Amelia repeats, pointing at Dan, as if naming him isn't enough condemnation for her. Dan sends her a dirty look. She just giggles.

"Daniel," Phil starts, enunciating carefully to be heard over the sound of the faucet. "Have you been swearing in front of our children?"

"No!" Dan protests. Phil quirks a disbelieving brow at that. "Okay, well, maybe. But not on purpose! And it was only once," Dan amends.

"Nuh-uh," Amelia argues from the table. "It was twice!"

Dan shoots her a pleading look. "Amelia! Whose side are you even on?"

She hides her laughter behind her hand. "Sorry!" She most certainly does not sound like she means it.

"Hm," Phil hums, sounding unimpressed. "Someone's sleeping on the sofa," he decides.

Dan knows he's kidding, but he plays along, wrapping his arms around Phil and whining. "But... Philll."

"Nope. Shut it, you." Phil tries to keep a straight face as he strains the pasta and returns it to the pan.

Dan releases him long enough for him to get it back to the stove and pour in the sauce, and then he's right back behind him, his arms wrapped around Phil's waist as he nuzzles against Phil's back. "Phil," he starts, voice saccharine sweet. "It's really just a misunderstanding, you know."

"I fail to see how," Phil quips.

Pressing a trail of kisses across Phil's shoulder blades, Dan hums. "I didn't mean to. If I did, in fact, swear in front of them, I assure you it was just an accident. Hypothetically"

Phil seems unconvinced. Dan gently bites at his shoulder. "Yeah, alright. But no more swearing in front of them or we're doing a swear jar."

Dan smiles, kissing the spot he bit. Phil shivers. Dan smirks.

"And," Phil adds, his voice just a touch louder. "You have to make me coffee in the morning. And take the bins out."

At this, Dan scoffs, pulling away enough that Phil can turn around to face him. "No way," Dan argues. "It's your turn to do bins!"

Phil is unwavering, giving Dan a smug smile as he holds up his burnt hand. "I'm injured, babe. Out of commission."

Dan glares. Holding eye contact, he leans toward Phil's hand, nipping gently at the side of Phil's hand.

"Ow," Phil says, with absolutely no conviction.

"That's what I think of you blackmailing me like this," Dan informs him, resigned to his fate.

Phil uses his hand, still just a breath away from Dan's face, to pull Dan's face closer so he can press a kiss to his cheek. Amelia and Jaiden make synced gagging noises behind them. "Thank you in advance for taking out the bins, darling."

"Shut up."

~~~

After they’ve all sat down for dinner, Dan clears his throat. “Levi, we talked about next Friday,” he begins.

Levi puts his glass down and turns to face him, his gaze darting back and forth between him and Phil. “And?”

Dan can’t help but laugh at his impatience. “You can stay here and watch them. But, you have to keep your phone on you, so we can check on you guys every hour or so, okay?”

“Sure,” Levi agrees, nodding. “How long will you guys be gone?”

Phil shrugs when Dan glances at him for the answer. "The event starts at seven, so probably no later than eleven, maybe earlier. Will you be alright here?"

Levi's eyes twitch into a roll but refocus when he probably realizes they're both watching him. "Yeah. I mean, they'll basically just be asleep after you guys leave."

"Right," Dan nods. He feels slightly more comfortable knowing that. "We'll make dinner or order takeout or whatever before we leave, and then you guys can do whatever after that." He glances over at the twins then, who have been mostly quiet, probably only passively listening. "But, you two still have to listen to your brother, okay?"

Amelia glances up at this. She smiles brightly and nods. Jaiden blinks, but then shrugs, which Dan figures is probably the best agreement he'll get from him. "What if he makes us go to bed early?" Jaiden asks, sparing a peek over at his older brother, who's rolling his eyes.

"Well, your bedtime is nine on weekends. So, you still have to go to bed at nine," Dan tells him.

Phil taps the table, causing both the twins to look up at him. He's got a mischievous look on his face. "Dan's right, bedtime is still nine on weekends. But we won't be here," he says this very slowly, enunciating every word. "So you have to listen to Levi when he tells you to go to bed..." He glances at Levi, grinning. "At nine."

Levi gets it first, smirking. "Right. Nine pm, sharp. Got it."

"Yep. Nine pm." Phil winks at Jaiden, and after a second, the boy seems to catch on, and his eyes widen with his grin.

"Okay!" He says gleefully.

Dan sighs. "Philip," he says, exasperated.

"Daniel," Phil replies on a sigh, his lips curled up in a smile.

"You can't just..." Dan starts, then stops. Phil quirks a brow, unbothered, but Dan decides this is one battle he can lose, as really the twins going to bed a little late isn't going to hurt anyone.

"What?" Phil asks, almost challenging.

"Nothing," Dan says, dropping his head to rest on his hand. "Nothing at all."

Phil smiles at him, shaking his head before turning back to finish his dinner. "This might be a little premature," he announces after a second, taking a pause then. The kids turn to glance at him, all of them taking a pause from eating at the tone of his voice. If Dan had his phone on him, it would make a hilariously creepy photo.

"Well, go on, then," Dan prompts. "Don't leave us hanging."

With a barely-concealed grin, Phil sets his fork down, clasping his hands together and studying each of their faces carefully. "This might be a little premature," he repeats. "But who would like to start thinking about what's for dessert?"

~~~

Later that night, after all the kids are tucked in, Dan and Phil find themselves getting ready for bed together, going through their usual nightly routine with big yawns and shared smiles. Phil passes Dan his medication and Dan makes sure Phil removes his contacts, and when they’re finished in the bathroom, Dan leads the way to their bed. He yawns as he flicks off his lamp and crawls beneath the covers, blinking in the low light of the room.

“Are you staying up?” He asks once Phil’s settled on his side of the bed.

“Mm. No, I’m exhausted, actually,” Phil hums in response.

Dan gestures vaguely to the lamp still shining on Phil’s nightstand. “Mind turning that off?”

Phil is quiet as he rolls over and pulls the chain, sending the room into pitch darkness. Dan blinks quickly, forcing his eyes to readjust to the sound of Phil shifting around on the bed, trying to get comfy.

“Cuddle?” Phil asks, his hand rubbing up and down Dan’s arm.

Frowning a bit, Dan shakes his head sheepishly. “I’m not really in a cuddly mood tonight bub, sorry.”

“Oh,” Phil sounds surprised. “Okay, that’s fine.” He sounds like he means it.

Dan gently catches Phil’s hand as he retracts it, bringing his knuckles up to his lips for a gentle kiss. Phil lets out a soft sigh at the contact, and Dan smiles against his skin before releasing his hand.

They lay in silence for several moments before Phil speaks. “You’re not upset with me or anything, are you?” He asks, his voice unmistakably nervous.

“No, not at all,” Dan assures him. “I dunno, I’m just... feeling kinda sweaty, don’t really wanna be snuggled. I’m not mad at you.”

“Alright,” Phil replies. A few seconds pass before he says, “I reckon the kids are excited for Friday.”

Dan smiles. “Yeah, cause you had to go and basically tell Levi to let them stay up late. I’d be excited too,” he says teasingly.

Phil giggles. “Sorry about that. But I honestly think they’ll crash early anyway, just out of habit.”

Shrugging, Dan rolls to blink up at where the ceiling would be if it wasn’t too dark to see anything. “For Levi’s sake, I hope they do.” He chews his lip, his mind swirling with a couple thoughts he’s been considering the last few days. “Do you think maybe Levi is still uncomfortable living here?”

“Hm...” Phil considers it for a few minutes before he answers. “I think... maybe he’s having a harder time adjusting than the twins did.”

Dan nods, wincing when he accidentally chews through the skin on his lip, drawing a little blood. He smacks his lips against the metallic taste, nearly gagging as he tries to speak. “Maybe we should try to spend some more one-on-one time with him,” Dan suggests then.

“Maybe. We could go see a movie together or something? The twins could stay with my brother,” Phil offers.

“That might be nice. Do you think he’d even want to spend more time with us?”

Phil laughs at that. “I mean, honestly... if I was his age, I probably wouldn’t. I’d just want to have my own space and be left alone.”

Dan considers this for a while, and they’re both silent long enough that he wonders if Phil’s fallen asleep. The question is answered for him when Phil scoots closer and drops a kiss on Dan’s temple. “Don’t think too hard, love. We’ll figure something out.”

“Yeah,” Dan agrees passively. “We can maybe ask him about it tomorrow, see if there’s anything we can do to make him feel more at home or something. Do you reckon he’s just missing some of his old stuff?”

Phil yawns. “Maybe. Dunno what we’d do about that.”

Dan nods to himself before patting around until he finds Phil’s hand. He laces their fingers together before nudging at Phil’s shoulder, prompting him to roll over to face the door, allowing Dan to be the big spoon.

“Thought you didn’t want a snuggle,” Phil mumbles.

Dan shushes him. Phil snickers.

“Love you,” Dan murmurs against Phil’s hair a moment later, eyes drifting shut. He’s almost hoping Phil didn’t hear him, the words isolated and completely defenseless.

Phil releases Dan’s hand long enough to reach back and squeeze Dan’s hip gently in a fond gesture. “Love you too. Goodnight.”

~~~

There’s a tapping noise coming from either inside Dan’s skull, or perhaps the door. He realizes, somewhere in his soup brain, that it’s probably the door, but given he’s only slightly awake, he’s not completely positive. It stops and starts a few times, and eventually enough is enough.

They’d separated from their cuddle at some point and Phil is flopped out on his back, while Dan’s curled up on his side. Dan nudges Phil’s hip with his knee in an attempt to wake him. “Phil,” he mumbles. No response. “Phil.” Dan punctuates this with a sort of gentle kick to the shin

“Ow,” comes the mumbled response.

“Phil,” Dan whines, exasperated.

“Hm?”

“Door. Go see who’s at the door.”

Phil smacks his lips loudly in his nearly asleep state. “‘M asleep,” he rebuttals.

And really that leaves Dan only one choice.

“Dan!” Phil nearly screeches, flailing on the bed, suddenly blanket-less and exposed to the sharp chill of the room.

Dan hums innocently from where he’s confiscated all their covers. “Go. Door.”

“Why didn’t you get it?” Phil grumbles, even as he willingly climbs out of bed.

Snuggling down into the blankets, Dan sighs. “You were closer.”

Dan listens to Phil’s footsteps and then the sound of the door creaking open. His ears perk up like some weird superpower when he hears sniffling, followed by a tiny, “dad?”

“Oh, come here, Mia,” is Phil’s answering response. Dan imagines Phil wrapping her up in a hug then, and his heart is gripped with longing and fondness.

“I’m scared of the storm,” Amelia admits between shaky breaths.

“That’s okay,” Phil tells her kindly. “You can come sleep with us, baby. Come on.”

“It’s dark in here,” Amelia whispers as Phil leads her to the bed.

“Hold on, love.” There’s the feeling of the bed dipping, then the click of the lamp turning on. Dan scoots back on the bed to make room, holding out his arms with a tired smile, relinquishing some of his covers. Phil climbs back into bed behind her, pulling the blankets to cover himself as well.

“Night, babygirl,” Dan whispers to Amelia, dropping a kiss to the top of her head before letting his eyes drift shut once more.

His serenity lasts for only a few seconds before he feels something poke his chest. “Daddy?” Amelia whispers. “Are you asleep?”

Dan hums. “Mm. Not anymore,” he jokes.

It seems to go over Amelia’s head, as she replies with a quiet, “oh, sorry.”

Shaking his head, Dan brings her to his chest, checking that the blanket is tucked up evenly around her. “It’s okay, love. Are you warm enough?”

“Mhm,” she replies. “But daddy... I left my stuffy in my room.” She sounds positively devastated.

Dan, who had almost fallen back asleep in the time it took her to say that, tries to push out of the haze of sleep to think up a response. “Mm. Do you have to have it?”

“Yeah,” she whispers.

He sighs. “Alright.” Clearing his throat, he blinks over at his co-parent. “Phil. Babe, Mia left her plushy in her room and needs you to go grab it.”

Phil lets out an exasperated sigh. “Dan,” he states, calm but on the verge of annoyance.

“You already got up and lost some of the warm, you’ll be fine.”

“I hate you,” Phil informs him, squinting over at him in the low light of the lamp that still hasn’t been turned back off.

Dan smiles. “I love you too. Get the bear.”

“It’s an elephant,” Amelia corrects softly.

“Yeah, that,” Dan agrees. “Get her elephant.”

Phil makes a huffing noise and leans down to ruffle Amelia’s hair. “You two are lucky I love you both so much,” he says with a resigned sigh.

Dan dimples up at him, endlessly fond. “Thank you, dear,” he calls after him as Phil makes his way out of the room.

Amelia rolls over to blink up at Dan with shiny, tired eyes. “We’ve got a good dad,” she tells him thoughtfully.

Kissing the top of her head gently, Dan smiles. “Yeah, I reckon we do.”

A few minutes later, Phil returns with the plushy in hand. He leaves the door cracked open, and when Dan quirks an eyebrow at him, he shrugs. “Just in case Jaiden wakes up and gets scared.”

Dan’s lips quirk into a soft smile as he nods. “Good idea.”

Amelia holds her little hands out for the elephant, which Phil hands to her before tucking her in. He stays standing beside the bed for a moment, his fingers tapping against his thigh in a jittery sort of fashion.

“Are you coming back to bed?” Dan asks, his tone teasing.

Phil glances at him, shrugging. “I’m debating.”

“On?” Dan asks when Phil doesn’t elaborate.

Phil gives Dan a pitiful look, bringing his hand to rest on his belly. “I’m hungry.”

Dan rolls his eyes. “You’re not eating in bed in the middle of the night.”

Phil pouts. “Not even a little snack? Just a biscuit?”

“Absolutely not,” Dan snorts, indignant.

There’s a sigh, and Phil pulls the covers back, sliding underneath, resigned. Amelia shifts closer to him and whispers something in his ear. Phil’s eyes widen in surprise before he looks to Dan, his face full of glee. “Is that right?” He says, voice teasing.

“What are you two whispering about?” Dan mumbles, feeling very left out.

Amelia glances over her shoulder at him, giving him a very pitiful face. “Nothing,” she says, smiling innocently.

Phil grins before sitting up, reaching over Amelia to gently pet Dan’s hair, definitely a gesture of someone who wants something. “Dan,” he begins, his voice already full of smugness.

“No,” Dan interrupts, staring at him resolutely.

“But-“

“Absolutely not. You get crumbs in my bed, you‘re sleeping on the sofa.”

Phil looks absolutely abashed. “But, Daniel, you wouldn’t send our sweet little girl to sleep on the sofa, would you?” The smugness intensifies.

Dan narrows his eyes, his gaze flicking between the two of them. “What did you tell him, Mia?”

She smiles, patting Dan’s arm gently. “I asked if I could have just a tiny snack. A little one.”

Phil blinks at Dan pointedly. “And how can we say no to her? What kind of parents are we if we let her go hungry?”

Dan snorts at that. “Both of you finished your dinner and had dessert. I don’t think either of you are going hungry.”

“Daddy, just a little snack? We’ll bring you one too,” Amelia pleads, her little brown eyes so full of hope and innocence. Dan has no will against it.

“Fine.” They cheer quietly before he shushes them. “But,” he continues. “You can’t eat in here. I’m not kidding about crumbs in my sheets. Eat it in the kitchen, alright?”

Amelia nods excitedly before climbing over Phil, already desperate for the promise of food. Phil looks positively delighted as he leans over to press a kiss to Dan’s cheek. “You’re the best,” he says happily.

“Mhm,” Dan grumbles, waving them away.

Phil glances over at him, tilting his head to the side a bit. “You coming?”

Dan smiles at him gently, shaking his head. “Nah. I think this should be your thing with her. I don’t think I’m the midnight snack parent here.”

Something fond crosses Phil’s face, and he glances over to where Amelia is waiting for him by the door, scared to go to the kitchen by herself probably. “Alright. Want us to bring you something?”

Snorting, Dan shakes his head again. “I’m not breaking my own eating in bed rules, so that’ll be a no. But keep it quiet, yeah? I don’t want everyone in this house to know the sin you two are up to.”

Phil sticks his tongue out and Amelia covers her giggle with her elephant. “Be right back, then.”

Dan nods and gets comfy while they disappear down the hallway. He listens for a while at the quiet sounds of them whispering, and he’s glad the kitchen is closer to their room rather than the twins’ room. He hears what sounds like clinks of spoons and he guesses they’re probably having cereal. He wants to snort at the predictability of his best friend, but even sitting a room away he can’t pretend to be anything other than fond.

When they return, Phil’s carrying Amelia, who is sleepy and smiley in his arms. He’s got a wide grin on his face, and Dan can’t help but return it when they climb into bed. “Good snack?” He asks.

Phil nods and Amelia giggles. “We had some cereal,” she informs him.

Dan looks Phil dead in the eyes, giving him the most bland look he can muster. “Shocker,” he says, deadpan.

They maintain eye contact for just a moment before bursting into a fit of laughter. Amelia looks confused, but happy.

“You and your cereal-thiefing ways,” Dan mumbles, raising his arm and letting Amelia snuggle up to him. Phil looks down at the bed with a sheepish grin as he lays down. “Night, Mia. Love you.” Dan punctuates his words with a kiss to the top of her head.

“Night, daddy,” she mumbles, clearly already on the verge of sleep.

Phil blinks at him expectantly. Dan rolls his eyes. Phil pouts.

Leaning over Amelia carefully, Dan sloppily kisses Phil’s cheekbone. “I love you too, you absolute toddler,” he says, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Phil looks more than pleased when Dan pulls away. Dan watches as he snuggles down under the cover, tucking the blanket around their daughter carefully before closing his eyes. “Love you, Dan,” he mumbles when enough time has passed that Dan honestly thinks he may have already fallen asleep.

Dan blinks the moisture from his eyes. “Goodnight, bub,” he murmurs, the sound of Phil’s deep breaths already filling the silence.

~~~

Saturday is the same uneventful sort of day as it usually is in the Howell-Lester household, the day moving slow with everyone off school and work for the day. Dan is in the kitchen making an early lunch for everyone when Phil walks in, talking on his phone. Dan smiles at him, which Phil returns, a little less enthusiastically.

“Yes, I know, Mum,” he’s speaking into the phone. “I told you, Dan and I needed to think about it. We can’t just force them to go to your house for Christmas, can you imagine how awkward they’d feel?” Phil rolls his eyes as his mum speaks, probably chastising him for keeping her grandchildren away from her.

Dan can’t help but wince on Phil’s behalf. It’s strange enough suddenly being parental figures for three children, but add in the fabrication of their romantic relationship and, well, Phil’s family is feeling very left out of the loop, despite the fact that they’ve met the kids over FaceTime countless times. Dan knows the other man is holding onto what’s left of his sanity by a thread at this point, with all the pressure from his mum and the obvious obstacles that come with parenting. Dan definitely doesn’t envy his situation right now.

“Right. But there’s five of us now, mum.” Phil sends Dan a pleading look, and Dan can’t help but snicker. Phil rolls his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. He hardly ever gets cross with his mum, so Dan knows something else must be bothering him. “I’ll talk with Dan about it, okay? I can’t make any promises, though. I...” he looks over at Dan then, something conflicting flashing across his face. “I have to put the kids first now, mum. We’ll see how they feel about it, okay?”

Dan tears his gaze away, focusing back on the sandwiches he’s meant to be crafting. He listens as Phil says his goodbyes, quietly murmuring for Phil to tell Kath he loves and misses her on Dan’s behalf. Phil relays the message and hangs up. A long sigh escapes his mouth then, and Dan can’t help but glance over at him.

Phil looks exhausted. His eyes are tired and his shoulders are slouched in a way that Kathryn would be rather appalled by. Dan’s heart feels a stab of sympathy for him.

“Rough talk?” He murmurs, trying to be careful with his inflection. He doesn’t want Phil to think he actually knows what they were discussing, even though he does.

“Yeah,” Phil whispers after a while. “Mum wants us to come to hers for Christmas.” Dan nods, staying quiet as he clears up the mess he’d made of the counter. Phil sighs again. “I don’t know what to tell her.”

Dan waits to see if there’s more, and when it’s clear that there’s not, he turns to face him, leaning on the counter. “Well, do you want to?”

“Do I want to what?” Phil asks, bewildered.

“Go to your family’s house for Christmas,” Dan elaborates, keeping his tone neutral.

Phil looks surprised, like he hadn’t thought to actually consider it. “I... well, I don’t know. I hadn’t really thought about it. I mean, I’m hoping we still have the kids by then.”

Dan hates the stab of fear he feels at the implication that there might be an alternative to that, but he forces it down, smiling and stepping closer to wrap his arms around Phil’s waist in a hug. He thinks idly about how this is their first hug of the day. “I reckon we ought to at least consider it.”

“Hold on, wouldn’t your mum be upset if we went to mine instead of hers for Christmas?” Phil asks, almost sounding accusatory.

Dan snorts, pulling away. “Not likely. She’d want to see us, sure, but their big family Christmas dinner is always the Saturday after anyway.”

“Oh,” Phil says, somewhat surprised. “You’ve never told me about that,” he sounds offended.

“I guess it never crossed my mind?” Dan replies, a little puzzled as to why Phil seems to care. “Either way, my mum wouldn’t be fussed.”

Phil looks away as he considers it. Dan steps out of his personal space to give him room to think, moving around the kitchen and setting the table for lunch. Finally, Phil says, “I’ve never not been at my family’s house for Christmas Day.” He whispers it, like he’s ashamed.

Dan turns to glance at him, raising an eyebrow in surprise. “Yeah?” He says lightly, prompting him to elaborate if he wants.

“I don’t want to force the kids to go somewhere else if it’ll make them uncomfortable,” he continues quietly. “And I don’t want to not see my parents on Christmas, but…” He takes a breath, looking up at Dan with something vulnerable in his eyes. “I won’t leave you alone with the kids on Christmas.”

“Well...” Dan pauses to consider their options. “We could invite your family here, just for Christmas Day. Or we could speak to the kids and ask how they feel about Isle of Man for a holiday. You never know, Phil, they might actually want to go. They’ve met Kath enough through calls and all that, I really don’t think they would mind going.”

Phil nods slowly, his eyes becoming a little unfocused as he spaces out, deep in thought.

Before they can reach any sort of agreement, the twins come barreling into the kitchen, followed by their older brother, who looks vaguely apologetic. Whatever thoughtful silence that had existed in the kitchen before is completely gone when they enter.

“I tried to tell them not to run,” Levi says, shrugging.

At the same time, Amelia grabs the back of a chair, hopping up and down behind it as she asks, “What’s for lunch?”

Jaiden is the only quiet one, drifting to the balcony doors and gluing his face to the glass to watch for his pigeon friends.

Dan sighs, somewhere between content and exasperated. “We’re having sandwiches,” he tells Amelia. Smiling reassuringly at Levi, he says, “I think it’s a lost cause at this point, really.”

The teenager shrugs before going to sit at the table, glaring at his sister pointedly until she halts her jumping, looking sheepish as she slides into her chair. Dan smiles at this before looking over at Phil, who’s studying the table activity with a look of almost curiosity. Dropping a gentle hand to his arm, Dan waits for his gaze to refocus before speaking. “Love, could you get some drinks while I pass out food?”

Phil nods, offering a partial smile. “Sure.”

Dan waits until Phil’s turned to collect cups before he goes about setting out the plates for everyone, calling Jaiden to the table and promising they can feed the pigeons later.

After everyone has food and a drink, Dan allows himself to have a seat as well, making sure everyone has what they need before tucking into his lunch. The talk at the table varies from school, to video games, and to the excitement of being home alone the following Friday. Phil is much more present now, joking with the twins and listening carefully when Levi speaks. Dan’s so full of such a sense of normalcy that the thought of the true nature of the situation very nearly drifts away entirely.

Eventually everyone is finished eating and Levi offers to help clear everything up after the twins run to play in their room. Dan sees this as a perfect opportunity to ask him about how he’s feeling about his current living situation, and a shared glance with Phil says they’re on the same page. “Sure, bud,” Dan agrees easily. “Why don’t you help Phil clear the table while I put the rest of this stuff away.”

Levi nods, clearing plates away quietly. Phil glances over at Dan rather pointedly and Dan nods. Phil clears his throat, a little bit awkwardly, before speaking. “Levi,” he begins, his tone soft. The teen’s gaze snaps up almost immediately, a deer-in-the-headlights look on his face until something on Phil’s makes him relax slightly. “We were wondering how you’re feeling about living here so far.”

Levi looks vaguely uncomfortable, but shrugs. “Alright, I guess.” He pauses. Then, suspiciously, “Why?”

Dan shrugs from where he’s stood putting the sandwich stuff away. “We just want to make sure we’re doing what we can to make you comfortable here.”

“So, if there’s anything you need or want that we don’t know about, you can tell us and we can work on getting it for you,” Phil explains, giving Levi a bright smile.

Levi seems to consider this. He still looks vaguely suspicious. “Oh... okay. Well, nothing comes to mind.” He clears his throat awkwardly.

“And that’s fine! Just, you know, if you think of anything. You can tell us.” Phil says, giving Dan a soft glance.

Dan nods at him in agreement before turning to smile at Levi. “Yeah. You can always talk to us about anything.”

Levi glances between them, his gaze somewhat confused. “Right... okay.”

Feeling a little awkward at how poorly that seemed to go, Dan clears his throat. “I know it’s awkward for you,” he says quietly, trying not to make Levi feel even worse by having this conversation with Phil there. Levi gives him a wary look. “But we want you to feel at home here, if it’s possible.”

There’s a silence, and Dan turns to tidy the pantry up a little, allowing Levi the space to think or leave if he’s feeling uncomfortable. After a few moments, he sighs. “I... I appreciate that, really,” he says slowly. “But, like... you don’t have to try so hard.”

Dan glances over at him sharply in surprise, his gaze flicking over to find that shock mirrored in Phil’s. “Oh. Okay,” is all Dan’s mouth can come up with.

Levi shrugs awkwardly. “Just... it’s awkward enough, yeah? Like suddenly you two have a teenager to look after, and I mean, I’m glad you let me be with my brother and sister, but you can worry about them, not me.”

It takes a long moment for Dan to process this, and when he does he feels his eyes burn. “Levi...” he starts, his voice pained.

Before Dan can even begin to explain how wrong it is for Levi to think they shouldn’t care about him, Phil speaks. “Levi, no. We’re not- we care about all of you. We didn’t just let you in like some stray off the street, okay? We wanted you here, from the moment we realized that the twins had a brother they’d been separated from.”

Levi looks surprised, as if they hadn’t already tried to relay this information to him before. “I-“

Phil interrupts him, holding a hand up to pause his words. “As awkward as you think this is for us, it’s not. We consider the three of you a part of our family, okay? Not just the twins. You’re just as much our child as they are, and you will be until your case manager decides otherwise. And we want to do things for you, just like we do the twins, if you’ll let us.”

Levi looks actually, properly stunned. He blinks rapidly, his gaze flicking between the two of them before finally dropping to the floor. “Okay.”

Phil’s shoulders seem to relax at that. “Good. Now, go get your things ready so Dan can drive you to your group session.”

Without another word, Levi leaves the room, although he does give Dan a bewildered look as he leaves. Dan shrugs at him, unsure how to explain Phil’s sudden outburst of emotional connection.

Left alone with him, Dan looks over to find Phil leaning back against the counter, rubbing the palms of his hands against his eyes and taking shuddering breaths. Without even thinking, Dan moves over to him, tugging his hands away and sweeping gentle fingers over the tears pouring from Phil’s eyes. “Shh,” Dan whispers when Phil lets out something like a sob. “You’re alright, baby. I’m so proud of you. That- that was such a lovely thing to tell him.”

“I love them so much, Dan,” Phil cries, dropping his head to Dan’s shoulder suddenly. Dan stares at the side of his head in shock. Phil obviously cared for them, but he’d never gotten this openly emotional about his affection for the children before. Seeing it was making Dan sniffle a little as well.

“I know, Phil. I know.” Dan brings one hand up to stroke the back of Phil’s head while the other caresses down his spine.

“I can’t believe Levi thinks he’s- he’s- like, a charity case or something! He’s our son!” Phil’s nearly sobbing now, and Dan tightens his grip.

“Shh. Quiet now, love. Shh, I know,” Dan murmurs soft words as Phil manages to work it out. He was a little out of depth here, as Phil was normally the more rational, less tearful one between the two of them. Apparently today was the exception, however. “You’ll cry yourself into a migraine if you aren’t careful, baby.”

Phil sniffles a few more times after that, finally getting a grip on his emotions. Dan waits for him to pull away first, and when he doesn’t, Dan begins to pepper kisses to his cheek and temple and ear. “Sorry,” Phil whispers.

Dan presses a soft kiss to his earlobe. “Nothing to be sorry for. Everyone cries.”

It’s quiet for a bit, but eventually Phil tilts his head, catching Dan mid-smooch. Dan flushes at their close proximity, but before he can pull away or apologize, Phil tilts forward just enough to peck Dan’s lips with his own. It’s hardly a kiss, more just a brush, but Phil looks completely unapologetic when he pulls away.

“Thank you,” he mumbles, hugging Dan tightly.

Dan’s not sure what he’s thanking him for, so he stays silent. They’re interrupted by the sound of footsteps, and Dan steps carefully out of Phil’s grip. Phil clutches his shirt anyway, and Dan can’t help but smile at that. “Ready to go?” He asks Levi, who’s hovering by the door looking awkward.

“Yeah,” he replies. He looks down, scuffing his shoe against the tile. “Phil?”

Phil looks surprised when he glances over at him. “Yeah?” He says, his voice a little scratchy from crying.

Levi seems to consider his words carefully before replying. “Er- thank you. For what you said earlier.”

“Of course,” Phil says immediately.

The teen nods, not lifting his gaze. Evidently that’s all that he’s got to say.

Dan tilts his head to look at Phil, who looks back at him with a surprised, but proud face. Dan doesn’t even think about holding back, dropping a soft kiss to Phil’s mouth like it’s nothing. Like it doesn’t send his blood racing and his heart stuttering. Like he does it every day.

Phil looks... well, happy. Dan shocks himself with the thought, but his mind only supplies that description of the look on his face when Dan pulls away from the brief kiss. “Drive safe, okay?”

“I will,” Dan nods. He pushes Phil’s quiff up from where it’s drooping. “Need anything while I’m out?”

“Snacks?” Phil asks, his voice sweet.

Dan rolls his eyes. “You’re going to snack yourself into a sugar coma, bub,” he teases.

Phil grins, his tongue caught between his teeth. “And you’ll take care of me while I’m in a coma, right?”

Dan kisses his nose. “If I have to.”

They grin at each other, and somewhere, Dan feels some relief in his heart or mind or the void where his soul should be. It feels a little bit like a fading resolve, or some wall being chipped away at. He feels lighter than he has in weeks, standing in his kitchen banting affectionately with his best friend in the whole world

“Go, he’ll be late,” Phil prompts, pushing Dan away.

“Movie night when we get back?” Dan asks, moving to the door.

Phil smiles and nods excitedly. “And pizza.”

“Perfect. It’s a date.”

~~~

Several hours later, after an overwhelming amount of pizza and a passive watch of Disney’s Hercules, Dan and Phil see the kids off to bed, much to the chagrin of the twins, who for all their complaining, stumble down the stairs like little drunks. Dan teases them for it, and Amelia, predictably, teases him right back, reminding him of the time he tripped down the stairs, stone-cold sober. Much giggling on the twin’s behalf later, after Dan has tried, and failed, to defend himself, the kids finally say their goodnights and head to their bedrooms.

“I’m so tired,” Dan moans the minute he steps into their room. He flops down onto their bed, star-fishing out in that way Phil does that usually annoys him so much.

“Sucks, bub,” Phil chuckles. “Gonna take your jeans off?” He asks, rummaging through their dresser.

Dan considers it. He really is very tired. “Is there some way I could perhaps convince you to do it for me?” He asks sweetly, fluttering his eyelashes up at Phil when the older man glances at him. He’s mostly kidding.

Phil’s eyes roll up to the ceiling at this, but sighs as he walks over and deposits his pajamas onto the side of the bed not currently occupied by Dan’s noodle limbs. “Undo ‘em for me,” he instructs, bringing his hands down to tug Dan’s socks off for him.

Dan hadn’t expected this. Honestly, he’s not sure he would’ve done it for Phil, really for no reason other than how it would feel to undress his best friend. Especially now that he knows there’s some very not-platonic feelings floating around his heart. Just that conscious thought, accepting those feelings he has for Phil, sends Dan’s blood rushing to his head, making him dizzy.

“Dan?” Phil calls quietly, patting Dan’s thigh to get his attention. “Do you actually want me to?”

“I... I’ll do it. I was just kidding, really,” Dan stutters out. He clears his throat. “Thanks, though. You’re a good friend.” He’s glad he’s still laying on his stomach, so he doesn’t have to meet Phil’s eyes as he says it.

There’s the feeling of hands running over his calves, gently massaging, and Dan sighs. “Of course, bub,” Phil quietly murmurs. “I’m gonna go take a shower, okay?”

“Yeah,” Dan agrees passively.

Phil squeezes his leg. Dan listens to his footsteps, allowing his eyes to flutter shut as the bathroom door clicks shut.

He doesn’t mean to fall asleep, but when he drifts back into the present world, it’s to the feeling of something tugging underneath him. “Mph?” He huffs a confused sound.

“Shh,” Phil whispers softly. “It’s just me, Dan. I’m trying to cover you up, scoot over a bit.”

After blinking the sleep out of his eyes a bit, Dan realizes that he’s still laid on the bed, wearing the same clothes he laid down in. Phil’s stood next to him, working on tugging the blanket out from under him so he can cover him up. “My jeans,” Dan complains.

Phil nudges him to sit up. “Go take them off and brush your teeth. You’ll wake up in the middle of the night anyway if you don’t go to bed with a clean mouth, remember?”

Dan grumbles but does as he’s told, stumbling off the bed and into the bathroom, unbuttoning his jeans as he goes. After taking a wee and tugging the stupid jeans off his long legs, Dan brushes his teeth slowly, feeling groggy from his short nap.

“Don’t forget to take your meds, babe,” Phil says, poking his head into the bathroom and tapping the doorframe to get Dan’s attention.

Nodding, Dan waves him off. Phil leaves him to it, allowing Dan to finish his routine alone before going back to their bedroom to join him. Phil’s sat up at the headboard, his glasses sliding down his nose as he looks down at the worn pages of a book. Dan crawls into bed beside him, leaning his head on Phil’s shoulder. Wordlessly, Phil tilts his head and kisses Dan’s forehead. Dan is so, so warm.

“What are we reading tonight?” Dan asks softly, too lazy and tired to actually read the page.

“Ready Player One,” Phil replies, turning the page. “Want me to read to you?”

Dan snuggles against his side shamelessly, wrapping his arm around Phil’s stomach. “Yeah.”

Phil takes a moment to pull the covers up and over Dan, smoothing them over his leg and patting his knee before bringing his hands back to the book. Phil’s voice is low and soothing as he reads, and Dan is very nearly asleep when he hears a soft knock on the door. They both turn to face it in sync, and Dan has to bite back a giggle at the movement.

“Come in,” Phil calls, loud enough for whoever to hear, but quiet enough that it won’t wake anyone asleep.

The door swings open after a second to reveal Levi, who shifts awkwardly from foot to foot, avoiding their eyes, cradling his hand awkwardly.

“Hey, bub,” Dan says softly. “What do you need?”

Levi steps closer to the bed, holding his left hand up with a grimace. “I, uh... kinda cut myself. I didn’t know where the band-aids were,” he says, looking the epitome of awkward and uncomfortable.

Dan immediately climbs off the bed and heads into the bathroom, gesturing for Levi to follow. “I’ll give you some to put in the other bathroom, I thought we had some but Phil’s the actual clumsiest person alive so sometimes we run out,” Dan explains with a smile. Levi offers a quiet laugh, hovering in the door.

“I am not!” Phil protests from the bedroom.

Dan rolls his eyes, but mouths, “he is,” causing Levi to laugh for real. Dan grins, gesturing to Levi’s hand. “Want me to look at it?” He offers gently.

Levi shakes his head. “It’s barely a scratch, honestly. I don’t even know why it’s bleeding, it doesn’t hurt.”

Dan sends him a suspicious look as he rummages through the cabinet. “What happened, anyway?”

“I was working on that art project I told you about,” Levi replies. “The paper mache thing? I was cutting the paper and the scissors just slipped.”

“Hm,” Dan hums neutrally. “Be more careful, alright? You might need your hand later in life,” he jokes.

Levi rolls his eyes but nods. “I will. It’s really just a scratch, though, honest.”

“I’m sure,” Dan agrees. “But make sure to wash it out and put some antibacterial gel on it, okay?”

Looking on the verge of another eye roll, Levi manages a more impatient nod, holding his hand out for the bandaids. “Got it,” he concedes.

Dan supplies him with a bandaid for now and several extras, making a mental note to buy a new box the next time he’s out. He follows Levi out, going to climb back in bed as Levi shuffles to the door.

“Levi?” Phil calls gently.

The teen turns around, raising his eyebrows. “Hm?”

“Everything at school going alright?” Phil asks. “I feel like we never get a proper chance to ask you about it with the twins always around.” He smiles as he says it, softening the almost accusation in his words.

Levi shrugs. “It’s alright. It’s school,” he says, his voice betraying nothing.

“Yeah,” Phil agrees with a twitch of his lips. “I get what you mean. But so far, it’s okay? The teachers aren’t too bad and the kids are alright?”

“Yeah, they’re fine,” Levi says. He gestures at Dan vaguely. “I think he gave me all the easy teachers because they’ve all been pretty nice.”

Dan is about to protest but Phil sends him this lovely smile and Dan shuts up immediately. “Good, good,” Phil says. “I guess we’ll let you get to bed, then.”

Levi nods, waving at them a little awkwardly. “Alright. Night, guys.”

“Goodnight, Levi,” Dan calls after him as he walks out the door. He waits a beat to make sure Levi is well down the hall before turning to look at Phil. “You really are a good dad,” he says, almost conversationally.

Phil smiles at him fondly. “I should be. I’ve been practically raising you for the past ten years.” His tone is joking but it still embarrasses Dan, just a little, to be reminded of their slight age difference.

Dan can feel the wicked grin making its way onto his face. He can’t control himself, obviously, with the joke presented so perfectly. He leans in, resting his chin on Phil’s shoulder and pressing a feather-light kiss to Phil’s ear before whispering in his most sultry voice, “Daddy.”

“Ew!” Phil splutters, immediately shoving Dan away. He looks absolutely mortified when he’s put some space between them. “Never say that again, Dan,” he warns, sounding very, very serious, and very, very disturbed.

Dan erupts into a fit of laughter at Phil’s reaction, swiping tears of mirth out of his eyes. “Oh my god. You’re too easy! And the look on your face,” Dan sighs, catching his breath. He snuggles back against Phil with an innocent smile that Phil returns with a glare. “I promise I won’t say it again. I just had to, honestly.”

“You really... didn’t,” Phil argues, flicking his gaze up so he doesn’t have to meet Dan’s eyes.

Pressing his lips to Phil’s cheek is Dan’s apology, which Phil seems to accept if his sigh and the way he wraps an arm around Dan is any indication. “That really wasn’t funny,” he mumbles, collecting his book back on his lap and flipping it open again.

“Sure it was,” Dan replies easily, watching with a cringe as Phil returns to his dog-eared page. “It was funny to me.”

Phil knocks his head against Dan’s gently as reprimand. “You’re doing an awful lot of chatting for someone who was nearly asleep only half an hour ago, bub.”

Dan smiles against his shirt. “Alright, alright. I’ll be quiet.” Phil huffs like he doesn’t believe it but clears his throat to start reading. Before he can, Dan interrupts him. “Can you start at the beginning? It’s been a while since I’ve read this and I don’t remember who half these people are.”

There’s a groan, and Dan can’t help but bite back a laugh. “No, I’m not starting at the beginning, you horrible boy. This is supposed to be my quiet reading time.”

“Sorry,” Dan lies. “But you offered to read to me, so...”

“I’ll start at the beginning of this chapter. And if you get confused I’ll explain what’s happening. But otherwise shut your mouth and go to sleep, yeah?” Despite the irritation he’s obviously feeling at Dan pestering him, Phil’s words are still incredibly fond and bear no actual unkindness.

“M‘kay,” Dan agrees. “You may proceed.”

There’s a pause as if Phil’s waiting to be interrupted, but when he isn’t, he jumps right into the story, reading it at just the right volume for Dan to listen passively, his eyelids getting heavier and heavier with every paragraph. Eventually he nods off on Phil’s shoulder, but in their position his head lulls to the side and the movement jolts him awake again.

“You okay?” Phil whispers.

“Mm. Mhm. Sleepy,” Dan mumbles back.

Phil turns down the corner of his page, making Dan cringe, before placing the book onto his bedside table and turning off the lamp. He’s careful not to jostle Dan too much as he guides him into a proper sleeping position, tugging Dan’s pillow closer to his own and guiding his head to it. Dan allows his eyes to drift shut as Phil settles behind him, pulling the duvet up and over their shoulders.

“Warm enough?” Phil whispers against Dan’s hair.

“Mhm.” Dan reaches back until he finds Phil’s hand, pulling his arm to wrap around his waist. He feels a kiss against his neck and smiles. “Goodnight,” he murmurs.

Phil hums a response into the lack of space between them, but Dan’s already drifting back off to sleep.

[hilllsnholland]

Paper Airplanes

Pairing: College!Tom x College!Y/N

Wc: 2kish 

Warnings: swearing and tooth-rotting fluff :) 

Summary: You know all those cliches in movies? yeah well, this oneshot is full of them. So...check yes Juliet? 

There were many things on your to-do list today. Homework, filing papers, possibly getting lunch if you had time (which you did not). On your long list of things, getting hit in the eye with a paper airplane was not one of them. Your hand went up to feel the sensitive hit while the projectile fell into your lap. Luckily it didn’t hit your actual cornea, just the lid, but fuck that hurt. You looked around the office/lounge area to see who was the assailant, only to see Tom. 

“For fuck sakes Tom,” You whine and throw the plane back at him. 

“Sorry love, I just wanted your attention.” He laughs and picks the plane right out of the sky. “Need someone to keep your company?” 

He signaled to the very barren student lounge/event office space that you were currently in charge of. You had taken the job as a ‘student event assistant’ last semester, which basically meant you made posters for Uni events, in charge of student activity sign-ups, paperwork, and most important taking ID pictures. It was a very laidback job though, your desk sitting in the student lounge which was usually quiet. Most of your time was consumed getting homework done or watching Hulu. 

“As long as nothing else comes at my face,” 

“I can’t-“

“Holland, I swear to God.” You narrow your eyes and he laughs. 

“You know me too well Y/N,” 

Tom says as he knocks on the locked door of your desk area. Your desk was positioned in a smaller office room that was open to the lounge. It was easy access for you to talk to other students or for others to ask questions. Mainly it was a nuisance to walk around your desk and through the door, but you dealt with it. Tom grabbed a chair next to your desk and leaned back, feet propped up on your physics textbook as he relaxed. 

You rolled your eyes, shifting his feet off your books and placing them on the free area next to them. It took some time to get used to Tom’s pestering nature, but after meeting him last semester it became a fond friendship. Tom had come to the event office to ask if he could publish posters for his brother’s movie festival. You agreed and he went straight to playfully flirt with you. Nothing had happened though, which you were trying to not mind. Although his presence made your heart thump and palms sweat, you didn’t want to jump into some puppy dog love. 

“Who do you have for physics?” 

“Watanabe,” 

“Yikes. Good luck with that babes,” Tom flips through the book and raises his brow at you. “So, what time are you off?” 

You turn your clock towards you and saw it was 4:15. Forty-five minutes until freedom, and by that you mean watching your shows while eating pizza bites. 

“I get off at five,” You spin in your chair and Tom stops you with his foot. 

“You got plans?” 

“Do I ever?” 

Tom snickers and moves your chair between his legs, your feet bouncing off his. He bites his lip and looks beyond you. For a second you thought you were going to explode. Was Tom going to ask you out? Not only would that complete every dream and wish you’ve had ever, that would also give you something to do besides self-indulge. Tom stands up suddenly and looks down at you with that shit-eating grin he always has. 

“Can you retake my ID picture?” 

“What?” You furrow your eyebrows and Tom shrugs. 

“I lost my ID. Help a boy out,” He whines while grabbing the sides of your face. “I’ll make it worth your wild.” 

You feign a sighed ‘fine’ as you turn on the ID machine. Tom hops over the waist height counter and stands in front of the small white backdrop. You spin your seat around and play with the settings until it’s not a fuzzy mess of Tom’s face. 

“Hold on,” Tom fumbles with his pockets until he pulls out a pair of circular black glasses. 

Fuck, as if he couldn’t get any cuter. Your face is flushed as he adjusts them on his face. The frames are big but they make his brown eyes sparkle behind the glass. No way could they be real, he’s just toying with you at this point. Tom rubs his lips together, sliding his tongue between the pink lines and smirking at you. He knows he looks like a whole meal. Your mind wanders. It’s getting really hot all of sudden. Now all you can think of is how his glasses would look perched upon your-

“Nose?” 

“Huh?” 

“I said, do these glasses look too big for my nose?” Tom squints his eyes at you and you laugh off the lustful thoughts. 

“No, no you look good. Why do you want to wear glasses in your ID though?” 

“I want to look studious,” He states as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

A flat ‘hmph’ leaves your lips as you raise three fingers in the air. Tom relaxes and shines that perfect smile towards the camera lens. You count down and click the camera to snap the most perfect photo you’ve ever seen. Tom can’t take a bad picture, can he? This sappy crush you have is becoming a little obsessive because now you can’t stop staring at his beautiful face. The machine chucks out the new ID and you hand it to him. 

“Picture perfect,” He muses and pulls out his wallet. “I also wanted to wear the glasses to see you get all red,” 

Your chair spins in his direction and you throw a pen at him. It misses by an inch, flying past his ear as he laughs at you. Tom leans on the counter, picking the paper airplane that he threw before. He plays with it, moving the nose across the desk until it’s running past your hand that’s sitting on the computer keys. He pretends to trace your hand with the makeshift toy, humming to himself. 

“So we’re going to go eat after or?” Tom hums with that stupid twinkle in his eye. 

“Sure, you want to go to the usual?” 

Main Street. It was a small, hole in the wall place in the downtown district near the Uni. They had the best sandwiches. Tom brought you there one evening after a job fair at school. You remembered it so vividly, down to where he carved your name into the window sill by your signature spot. Tom nods and drops the paper airplane back on the desk. He has been so fixated on that damn toy since he walked in here. It was close to driving you mad. 

“Are you going to recycle that or?” 

“Please. Y/N, I’ve been waiting for you to open the airplane since I got here.” Tom states in almost a watery tone. He was pleading to you with his eyes. “I’m dying here Y/N,” 

Tom was riled up, now pacing back and forth in front of you. No wonder he was acting so strange, whatever was in the airplane had him going crazy. His excitement, or dread, was causing his mood shifts which were more than usual. You grab the airplane and unraveled it from its original form. Every unfolded layer made you nervous. What the hell did he put in here that’s making him so jumpy? You see words appear on the page and with one final crease, it shows a small note. 

Dear Y/N, 

Be my girlfriend and fly away with me? 

At the bottom of the page it has two large boxes with ‘yes’ and ‘no’ written next to them. Tom’s signature was below that, his bubbly and perfect handwriting made it official. You didn’t respond. Was this a joke? Like, was Tom Holland really asking you out with a note? 

“Are you serious?” You laugh 

Tom doesn’t react. He’s biting down on his lip and waiting for you to give him a real answer. His palms are sweating. This was the only way he could find the words to say anything. He was a little oblivious, he needed to see it in writing because words made him lost. You look at him and he seems to be getting disheartened. 

“Tom-“

“Hey it’s okay,” Tom grabs the paper and tries to stuff it into his pocket. 

“Tom-“

“No, it’s alright. I’ll see you around,” 

Tom grabs his stuff quickly and rushes out the door. You stood there feeling stupid. You laughed at him for Christ sakes! But in your defense, it seemed like a joke Tom would make. His face though, you saw the crushed look upon his face. He was gutted. You look to the clock, 4:45. Fuck it. Executive order, you were done with work and now you had to make things right. 

__

Tom sat in the dimly lit restaurant, stirring a cup of tea with a little wooden stick. His heart felt heavy, his mind was cluttered with antagonizing thoughts. He felt stupid. After days, maybe weeks, of trying to say something to Y/N, he wrote a stupid fucking note? What kind of grade school shit is that? Tom didn’t even touch his sandwich. He felt physically ill. 

His fingers brush over your name that was carved into the window sill. God, it took forever to write it into the wood. He tried a pen, knife, and keys. Took all of dinner but it happened. Your name forever carved into one of his favorite places. Tom couldn’t be mad at you. Your name sparked that light feeling in his chest. Like his heart was flying. It was dumb though, a stupid puppy dog crush. His eyes fixated on his uneaten food until something poked his nose. It didn’t hurt but it was blunt, something scratchy. A poorly made paper airplane fell on top of his Mediterranean sandwich. He looks up and sees you standing there, hands behind your back like you’ve done something wrong. 

“Y/N, you don’t-“ 

“Come on Tom, open it.” You whine and take the seat in front of him. “I’m dying here,” You mimic. 

Tom gulps hard, opening the airplane folds nervously. You were not a master of paper folding at all. The nose of your airplane was bent before it hit Tom’s nose and the creases were all wrong. But it got to its destination and that’s all that mattered. Tom unfolded it and saw your beautiful handwriting scribbled across the paper. 

Dear Tom, 

Sorry for being an ass. Do you forgive me? (Checking yes means you’re my boyfriend so choose carefully) 

Tom scans the bottom where there are two boxes. Both had the word ‘yes’ next to them, leading him with no ultimatum. He laughs, grabbing his pen and creating a new box. You sit back, still unsure if he was mad that you disregarded his note from before. Tom turns the note around and you see the new box says, ‘Definitely you div’. 

“So I’m the div huh?” You giggle while leaning close over the table. “You’re the one using primary school ways to win my heart,” 

“It worked didn’t it?” Tom wiggles an eyebrow at you, his lips looking delectable. 

“Why don’t you come over here and see,” 

Tom lifts himself slightly out of the chair to meet your lips. His one hand cupped your cheek while the other moved across your carved name on the window sill. You were trying to not completely burst into a fit of laughter. You were out of this world happy, even it was full of cliches. But maybe that was the thing about puppy love. It’s pure and full of gestures of admiration. All reservations aside, you were now falling fast into that ‘puppy dog love’. 

Tom’s lips are better than you could ever imagine. It was the thing you see in movies, that true love’s kiss or whatever. It felt right? It felt better than right, it felt like the most amazing thing you could besides looking at Tom’s beautiful face. And boy, did he feel the same way. All those days worrying about what to say paid off. He finally got to kiss the girl of his dreams. Your cute little gasps against his lips. The way your hand carresses his so softly. This was better than any dream he ever had. 

“Worked pretty well, huh?” Tom leans his forehead against yours, pecking smaller kisses to your lips. 

“Shut it Holland,” You kiss him again. “Don’t make me write a breakup airplane,” 

[hope-for-olicity]

Fabulous Olicity Fanfic Friday - September 14th, 2018

Happy Friday! So this is my attempt to both thank awesome fanfic writers for their amazing work and offer my recommendations to anyone who is interested. Here are the fantastic fanfic stories I read this week! They are posted in the order I read them.

A Novel Beginning multi-chapter WIP by @vaelisamaza - Olicity AU, Felicity runs her own Tech shop and writes romance novel reviews for her sister's website, Oliver comes in for computer help and it's all getting very exciting!! SQUEE!!!!  https://archiveofourown.org/works/15800145/chapters/36771384

Fragments multi-chapter WIP by @alexiablackbriar13 - A collection of various arrow and olicity ficlets from my drafts folder, partially completed. some AU, some canon related. many related to established verses I've created, although do not need to read those verses to read these fics. https://archiveofourown.org/works/15906561/chapters/37075926

The Reason multi-chapter WIP by flipflops - Oliver is an Alpha and Felicity is an Omega....circumstances lead Oliver to find this out and a very bad time or maybe very good time... https://archiveofourown.org/works/15012431

The Queen's Mage multi-chapter WIP by @the-shy-and-anxious-fangirl - Words have power, and mages, those with the aptitude to draw on that power, are few in number. Thus, their services are highly sought after by anyone who has exhausted all mundane means of solving whatever problem is plaguing them. Felicity is reminded of this fact the hard way when she is hired by Moira Queen, the Lady Starling, to find and return to her son Oliver, who fled his family home five years ago following the death of his father. With a threat hanging over her should she return without Robert Queen's heir, Felicity begins her search. When she finds Oliver, and ends up joining his vigilante crusade while she waits for him to decide whether to return home, the last thing she expects to do is fall in love with him. https://archiveofourown.org/works/14617068/chapters/33781269

Never You, Baby multi-chapter WIP by @spaztronautwriter - Felicity Smoak has always been a good girl. The kind of girl that gets straight A’s and perfect attendance, and, despite a penchant for hacking, never gets into any real trouble. But being perfect doesn’t make being a teenager any easier and, seeking a distraction, she finds herself hooking up with the sleaziest man whore in school. Oliver Queen is the last guy any self-respecting girl should sleep with. So why can’t she stop? https://archiveofourown.org/works/15929480/chapters/37140443

Love and Little Cupcakes multi-chapter WIP by @christinabeggs - Felicity loved sweets so much that she paid no attention to her lovelife. Until Thea Queen came into her store wanting fabulous cupcakes for her sixteenth birthday. SO ADORABLE! http://archiveofourown.org/works/12400539/chapters/28216053

I Hold the Lock and You Hold the Key by @allimariexf - Felicity meets up with an old friend for drinks at Verdant. Some other people join her. Season 2 UST. https://archiveofourown.org/works/15928439

Home To You multi-chapter WIP by @the-shy-and-anxious-fangirl - Oliver Queen has never done what his family expected of him. He took a gap year after high school instead of going to college right away. He quit his fraternity sophomore year to join the student newspaper, switching his major from business to journalism. He became a photojournalist for a wire service instead of taking a place at Queen Consolidated. He went missing after six months instead of coming home for his sister’s twenty-first birthday. He survived five years of captivity in a war zone when everyone thought he was dead. He came home. But home didn’t have a place for him in it anymore. His parents were both dead, casualties of their own mistakes and a city they had turned against them. His sister was all grown up, the CEO of Queen Consolidated with a fiancé and a dog and a life of her own. Oliver didn’t belong in his old life, but there was nowhere else for him to go. He was a man without a home, without any way of finding one, until he stopped by the IT department of his sister’s company to get files off an old, battered memory card, and found a woman with curly blonde hair and bright, intelligent eyes chewing on a bright red pen and swearing at a computer screen. https://archiveofourown.org/works/12613188/chapters/28734552

Finding Felicity multi-chapter WIP by @lynn8828 - After Lian Yu blew, Oliver searches for his friends and loved ones on the island. This is an AU versions of what happened when Oliver found everyone after the explosions. https://archiveofourown.org/works/15538641/chapters/36071301

Presentation is Everything by @allimariexf - “Everything okay?” His tone suggested annoyance, but Felicity didn’t care. He had forced her to take this EA position, and she was going to make him pay for that in every way she could think of. She looked up with a forced-pleasant smile. “Yes, Mr. Queen. Just making sure you’re not still wearing last night’s shirt.” AKA: When Oliver made Felicity his Executive Assistant, he inadvertently and irrevocably changed the nature of their relationship. Season 2 UST! https://archiveofourown.org/works/15935147

Whiskey and Romance multi-chapter WIP by @mindramblingsfics - Felicity Smoak gets the opportunity of a lifetime to compete for the hand of Prince Tommy Merlyn. She is taken from her normal mundane Vegas life and is soon swept up into a lifestyle full of nobles, drama, obligations and chaos. All the while trying to stay afloat, someone else begins to win her heart, Tommy’s best friend, Oliver Queen. https://archiveofourown.org/works/14441952/chapters/33357156

The Paths We Take multi-chapter WIP by griever11 - Rival CEOs AU. Felicity Smoak, CEO and founder of her own company, is trying to prove herself in the cutthroat world of the technology industry among the other bigwigs in the game. Oliver Queen, recently back from the dead is trying to prove to the world that he's no longer the same man-child who went down on the Queen's Gambit and is finally worthy of his family's legacy. Both equally formidable names in the corporate world. And both with a long, complicated history with each other that no one but themselves are privy to. https://archiveofourown.org/works/15314133/chapters/35530296

Elizabeth Grace Smoak multi-chapter WIP by @lynn8828 - What if Felicity and Oliver briefly had met before he got on the Gambit? Despite her best efforts, Felicity was unable to get in contact with the famous Oliver Queen after having a one night stand with him and getting pregnant with his child. After raising their child for five years after finding out that Oliver died on the Gambit, she finds out he is alive and knows that she needs to tell him about their daughter. But will he believe her? AMAZING STORY!! http://archiveofourown.org/works/13639371/chapters/31322715

Pieces of Always multi-chapter WIP by @so-caffeinated and @dust2dust34 - Life continues after Forever is Composed of Nows. Ongoing non-linear collection of family moments for the Queens. http://archiveofourown.org/works/8220479/chapters/18840356

Undisclosed Desires multi-chapter WIP by @green-arrows-of-karamel - People seldom show their true face to the world. Nobody knows this better than Felicity Smoak. She worked hard to get where she is and nothing, not even a nuisance like having a stalker, can stop her. When the threat proves to be more serious than she thought, Felicity is forced to hire Green Arrow Security. Her reluctance to have a bodyguard, shadowing her all day long, transforms itself into a —irrational, some would say— dislike for the man in charge of her safety. No other client had ever driven Oliver so crazy as Felicity Smoak does. That has nothing to do with her mesmerizing beauty or her astonishing intelligence but everything to do with her exasperating stubbornness. Honestly, he doesn't know what’s her problem is with him. If it wasn't because, Thea, his little sister, made him promise that he’d personally protect the woman, he would have quit months ago. It takes very little to ignite the fire between them. A single innocent comment can turn into an epic battle of vicious words, with the only purpose of irking each other. Everyone around them watches all happening from the front row. They ask themselves what will befall first… Felicity and Oliver killing each other, or realizing that they’re in love. https://archiveofourown.org/works/15808077/chapters/36794202

10 Rules of Rebounding multi-chapter WIP by @smkkbert - Oliver and Felicity start a sex relationship as rebounds for each other. What’s supposed to be just fun, soon gets complicated when it turns out that their work lives collide, Robert Queen fears their sexual relationship could threaten his company and an ex comes back into the play. https://archiveofourown.org/works/15403404/chapters/35749620

Broken Love multi-chapter WIP by @smoaking-greenarrow - Felicity and Oliver try to adjust to their new normal, but with Oliver in jail and Felicity in protective custody, neither are coping well with the distance. Oliver receives an offer from Agent Watson and Felicity takes matters into her own hands. (6.5 fic) https://archiveofourown.org/works/14717075/chapters/34014233

| ONE | (Oliver the Footballer) multi-chapter WIP @someonesaidcake - Felicity Smoak had a plan; to save enough money to kick her monotonous job and start up the company of her dreams. She made good plans, solid plans, attainable plans. He was never part of her plan. His name was Oliver Queen, the reclusive Brazilian football star with a broken smile and a story to tell. He'd never planned on her either. https://archiveofourown.org/works/15005402/chapters/34779542

Angel multi-chapter WIP by @it-was-a-red-heeler - Oliver encounters a stripper by the name of Angel and is blown away.   https://archiveofourown.org/works/15961898/chapters/37227686#workskin

// @emmaamelia95 // @mel-loves-all // @oliverfel4 // @green-arrows-of-karamel // @coal000 // @miriam1779 // @memcjo// @captainolicitysbedroom // @tdgal1 // @spaztronautwriter // @lalawo1// @quiveringbunny // @wrongshipper // @thebookjumper // @vaelisamaza // @myhauntedblacksoul // @lovelycssefan // @laurabelle2930 //

[bts-is-my-life-as-always]

Sapphire pt1

Pairing: Jungkook X reader 

Wizard/witch and royalty AU

Summary: a rebellion that went uncovered, blood sworn for revenge, one boy left to fend for himself not knowing his origins he continues his life as a wizard, until one day faith played in his favour and the table turned.

Warning: mentions of abuse! swearing! angsty stuff! etc etc!

WordCount: 3428 Words

(Credits to gif owners)

here’s part one of sapphire, i love you all and plz try to spread the words of sapphire, i’ve worked really hard on this, also a new reaction for bts is coming soon, spread the word and love, thanksssss, now enjoy~~~~~~

Being labelled as one of the most powerful witches in the whole empire of stirenth, it wasn’t easy, since childhood those around you feared you more than anything.

Your mother was always the more dominant one, she had to always mark her territory and always show who truly dominated the household, since birth you were hated.

Her hatred towards you was something you felt since you learnt to walk, you never truly understood why, preventing you from going to school was one thing, but negligence and abuse was an everyday occurrence, to you, a mother never existed, just a father, too submissive and scared to protect you, so instead he decided to side with the one person that was against you, you couldn’t blame him, the aura she gave off around you scared you too sometimes, but when it became an everyday occurrence it didn’t faze you much.     From household work to taking care of your pretty little sister, it was all up to you, one wrong move and you were dead meat.

“Y/N, HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU, DON’T TOUCH THE DAMN CRYSTALS IN THE BASEMENT.” You whipped your head around from the pot that was currently over flowing with bubbles, urging you to add the rest of the ingredients.

“It wasn’t me.” Short and simple, right to the point

“WHO TAUGHT YOU TO TALK BACK TO YOUR MOTHER LIKE THAT?!” she was bubbling with rage, you put the knife down and turned the stove off knowing too well of what she was about to do,

“OW IT WASN’T ME, IT WAS PROBABLY JUNE” she had you by the hair, dragging you through the whole house,

“STOP BLAMING YOUR SISTER FOR EVERYTHING, YOUR WORTHLESS” she was half way down the stairs with your hair still in her hands,

“Please let me go, it really wasn’t me” she practically threw your small frame against the cold brick walls of your basement,

“you are to fix all the crystals and put them back to where they should be, and you are forbidden from eating anything tonight, you need to learn your lesson” you looked at the mess on the floor, it would take you days, even with your wand,  you look up to her, for mercy? What were you thinking, she’s the true definition of a witch, the definition in every human story book that you read.

You turn your head, staring at the crystals that stared back towards you, their eyes twinkling.

“Don’t even think about coming up before finishing everything I’ve told you to do.” You pick one piece up, maybe ending it all would be better, why? You asked the crystal, if I’m from her, why? Why am I so different to my sister? Why me? You couldn’t voice your pain, you just did as you were told.                              Who knows how long you were down there for, you finished everything and you honestly had no clue how long that took you, while walking back up the stairs you met your father half way, he looked at you with so much pity,           “why? Why are you so afraid of her?” he stopped and turned towards you,

“Who? Your mother?” you balled your hands into a fist, some mother she is,

“I concluded long ago that she’s not my mother”

“Y/n that’s no way to...”

“I don’t care, she’s never been a mother to me, sometimes I wonder, do I even belong here? tell me dad, did your words ever truly mean anything, or do you think I'm young and naïve so I won’t know anything” you didn’t care for a response, it didn’t matter anymore, the countless apologies from your father, countless meaningless promises, only spoken of, never carried out, only an empty shell to somewhat shield you.

I promise I’ll get your out of here

I promise it’ll get better soon

I promise…

That stupid promise led you into this downwards spiral, did any of his words ever mean anything?

As you entered your room, your speculations were correct, your sister had torn through your whole entire room, for what reason? Not much, she just didn’t like you, typical.

When you turned 16 years of age some miracle happened, the royal stirenth academy had sent you an invitation to their school, a place only the talented and rich go, your family was rich, but none of it was ever used on you, it was a reserve for your mother and sister, so being invited to a place that not even your sister could attend, you were truly happy, your mother couldn’t refuse to let you enroll either, if she did, she would forever be out casted as ignoring the orders of the royal empress and emperor, so you had to go, for the first time in years, you were happy your mother was forcing you to go, happy.

But he had a different life, he didn’t exactly remember his youth, but by now he didn’t care, he had to stay behind 2 years because each year he purposefully failed but he didn’t care, he was never one to truly care about magic and the world that it unlocked, he just wanted to live his life, his way, without anyone forcing him to do anything, without anyone telling him he was wrong, without anyone telling him who he was.

He had friends, many friends but 6 in particular were his closest, they looked out for him every step of the way, he was taught by them to be humble, and how to show emotions and empathy towards those that couldn’t or didn’t have it as good as him, he was taught how to love and what love felt like.

His name is Jeon Jungkook.

He’d shine bright like a sapphire amongst the rubble of rocks, he’d be the miners delight in a dark tunnel of endless spirals, he’d made people happy and kept them in their happiest form, he’d been the blessing in disguise for so many but one, himself, he always tried to come off happy, he was smiling, laughing and even claiming he was happy, but it always lingered, the past that he did not remember, the past that wanted to break loose but every time he tried, It would crumble into nothing more than a mere fog in his mind, as if something or someone was preventing him from remembering, as if something or someone didn’t want this part of his memory loose.

Every time something bad happened to you, or when your mother would go mad with rage you always had this one saying stuck in your head,

“Where there is hope, there will always be despair, where there is a chance, there will always be hardships, to conquer and defeat, if one is unable to overcome their challenges in life, they do not deserve the title of happiness.”

You don’t know where or when you first started using this saying to overcome your fears and the world you lived in, but you knew when you stopped believing in it, the countless times you’d broken a bone, the countless times you’d burnt yourself, the countless times you thought you were finally free from this world, but each time, your escape faded like the twinkling eyes of an innocent child fades as time goes on, yours truly faded faster than those around you, coated with a thick layer of fear, pain and a desire to run more than anything, but you were never free, now those desires were replaced with a thick coat of anger and the same hatred towards the people around you.

Stirenth academy is a boarding school, made for top class students to learn and execute great magic, they had the best facilities and the best wizards and witches, many wished to attend, and many did, but only a few survived, either caused by financial hardships or not being able to overcome the mental strain that came along with it, invitees like you would only be rare, very rare, every century or so, a group of the most talented would be invited, and this year was no different only 4 of you including yourself had made it, from what you observed it was you, a girl named Mina, a boy maybe a little older named Gero, another girl named Hana and another candidate that had yet to arrive, but they all seemed to have one thing in common, they all had loving parents, while you got out of your family’s latest limo with the driver looking at you with pity and maybe more like your family than your actual family.

“It was just yesterday that you were bought home in the arms of your father, don’t hate him too much” you looked towards the crowd of people standing there,

“I never hated him, I’ve always hated the situation that we were under, anyways thank you for driving me here, I really appreciate it.” You said as you went to the trunk of the car to collect your luggage, and situated yourself at the front of the gate with your suitcase.

“Hey! My names Mina! What’s yours?” you look at her, she had eyes that could contain the whole ocean, filled with hopes and dreams, excited for the future, her future was all laid out, ready to graduate from the academy and become a head of her father’s company while being one of the few most talented witches in Stirenth, strange you thought, why is she talking to me? There’s so many people to talk to and she chooses you.

“Hi…. My names y/n….” you say hesitantly, trying not to come off too defensive,

“That’s a pretty name, so I’m guessing me, you and that girl over there and that cute boy are the ones invited, I heard there’s another boy, wonder where he is?” she kept trying to converse with you, but the last time you talked to anyone properly was when you were only 6 and started elementary, you never graduated as you were slowly isolated from society as a whole, mina’s interest in befriending you was starting to intrigue you but at the same time scare you.

Just as you were starting to warm up to Mina, you heard some commotion from the newly arrived vehicle, the same type of limo as yours, but instead of black it was white, usually only the royals could ride a white vehicle, especially horses, only whites, as white was the symbol of purity, and only the royals were made of pure bloods, always sticking to each other or pure bloods from 7 kingdoms across, as you were trying to figure out what was going on, everyone around you screamed and ran towards the car,

“Isn’t it only the royals that are allowed to ride a white car?” you asked getting more curious as time went on,

“Yeah, I heard the other boy that was invited was some sort of importance, I didn’t know it was….” You looked at her, she froze when he exited the car,

“It was what?” you asked, your curiosity getting to the best of you,

“Prince Lucas Isaac Kane, he’s one of the only princes that decided to remain in Stirenth, he’s meant to have started school ages ago, but for some reason, he’s here now” you were confused, if he was much older than any of you that were invited then why wasn’t he invited centuries ago?

Witches and wizards unlike humans can live forever, meaning they are immortals, they all age until a certain age, some 4 years, some 56 years, and some even older or younger, but once you hit that age, you don’t age anymore, meaning if your 4, you’ll stay 4 forever, trapped, your mind maturing but your body not, some kingdoms it is legal to buy and produce potions or spells to age you into the maturity that your mind was at, however in Stirenth it was highly illegal and you could be executed for using, distributing or reproducing of anything that would essentially correct your age, as this was fate, and the nature of all wizards and witches, you on the other hand had stopped aging when you turned 17, you didn’t really know what it was like, since you were the new generation, the ones that really got to choose and run the kingdom after a few centuries more, some wizards and witches chose to die when that time came, living for centuries can really wear you down, it’s the only way out for someone that’s been through so much for so long, and some end it all because of the thought of forever being a child, their minds crawling and overflowing while their body was incapable of doing things their brains could, you never really knew how to be empathetic towards another person, it just never really occurred to you how difficult it could be, you were numb to emotions at this point in time.

As you were lost in your thoughts you didn’t realise the prince had gotten nearer to you, you stopped breathing, his presence in itself was enough to completely freeze you in place, he looked around your age 17, but from what Mina was trying to tell you, his mind was much older, he would most likely be ready to take over Stirenth soon, being the only heir that decided to remain.

As you watched him cautiously Mina nudged you,

“Isn’t he coming towards us? Or you?” she whispered,

“I… I don’t know…” you whispered back, but before you could make sense of anything he was standing right in front of you,

“Good evening, I heard I was holding up the inauguration of our enrollment, I sincerely apologise, it’s like no one’s ever seen me before, so many people, yet so little control, always getting in the way” he smirked, you hated that, people who thought they were so much more superior than others, people who thought they were entitled to everything and they’ll get away with doing anything,

“actually, no one’s ever seen you, I’m sorry and I beg for your forgiveness, but royal or not, we all go to the same academy, which makes us the same, I would appreciate it if you stopped looking down on people” who knows what possessed you in that moment, but you spat out your thoughts, something you’d thought you’d never do, everyone around you gasped, everyone around you prayed for your place in the academy, you had only just gotten here and yet already making a scene, the thick blanket of poisonous silence was slowly killing you, every move you made, every move he made was watched, examined, some theorizing about what would happen next.

“I knew I’d find you one day, I knew you would be somewhere, now I just want you more, always looking out for everyone but herself, cute” you were utterly confused, what? You’ve met him before? Where would you have possibly ever met him, as you were about to question him, he smiled and walked away, strange.

You followed soon, a few hours had passed, a long introduction, filled with rules and disciplinary orders, of course even if Lucas was in the same grade as you, you knew that some to most of the seniors and juniors all were afraid of him, and you, since he seemed to have taken a liking to you.

As you were lost deep in your thoughts a particular rule had caught your attention,

“the uppermans library is totally off limits, it contains one of the most historical pieces, which shall not be viewed by commoners or royals, there’s a very high chance of destruction of a piece of history, which would be detrimental.” You raised your hand, and professor looked at you, confused, all this time the room was filled with nothing but the sound of his voice,

“What does that library contain? Who is allowed in the library?” he took a step back, pulling down his glasses that looked at least a decade old,

“May I remind you that I am the professor, I know curiosity is a common trait in the young ones, but please, as much as you were chosen for a reason, doesn’t give you an exception to the rules, now if I may continue” you simply looked down, not knowing why but your heart told you, the answer is in the library.

After a longer list of behaviour and all the boring things, you finally arrived at the fun part, the tour, from what you saw, this school looked massive, much bigger than the room you were confined in at home, your home would be considered large, but not as big as the academy,

“well, it seems as though the tour guide is taking his time, so I’ll take you around until he decides to show up” you were walking through the corridors for normal curriculum education, where subjects such as maths, literature , classics etc. etc. took place, although no human would never enter your world, you were able to go over to the human world, and some wizards and witches have chosen the mortals world as opposed to their birth places, so one day or another we will always need curriculum education, as the professor was explaining something a tall, chestnut haired boy bumped into him,

“sorry sir, I’m a bit late” he smiled, he looked like he could light up the whole world, yet that smile was coated with a type of sadness, a slight hint of pain, where have I seen that smile before? You thought,

“Jeon Jungkook, your 10 minutes late, and I’m 10 minutes late to the meeting I was supposed to be in, *sigh* well then hurry and gather yourself together, and show these 4 around the school, here’s the list for where their dorms are and other information they need to know, you can do it alone right?” he handed Jungkook a list, and your schedules, along with your door cards, he must be feeling so much pressure yet he was so happy and shiny.

“Of course I can do it alone, I can take it from here, I’m really sorry for being late” he smiled again, why was his smile touching your heart, why did he make you want to smile too.

Once the professor was off to his meeting, Jungkook took a deep breath of air and turned around to the 4 of you, Mina was intrigued in Lucas and his close proximity to you, and Lucas hadn’t left your side in hours, while Hana and Gero were tagging along, like they were 2 cows being pulled along against their will.

Jungkook read the list and started by handing out the schedules and when it came to yours, Lucas and Mina’s, he stared at the paper for longer, and smiled, again.                                                                                                                   He looked into your eyes and said

“Oh look, we’ve got the same lessons, hey classmate” you looked down at the floor, finding his cheerful childlike words cute, you smiled.

“Hey… it’s nice to know someone isn’t it” you said, shy and timid.

“And it seems you two are in my class too” he turned to Lucas who seemed to hate him already, he didn’t reply, rude, you thought, but the boy in front of you could’ve been mistaken for a naïve bunny, he just smiled and continued looking at you, and then looked away, Mina didn’t really have much to say and didn’t care too much.

“So… this is the boring curriculum corridor, I’ll try to speed past it, and as we have the same lessons anyways, you’ll get used to it faster” you just walked past not caring much about any of the standards,

“This is where the fun begins” he says, making your head perk a little.

There was a small arch that led into a whole different dimension, on your side it was normal and boring, or what humans presume as boring, and through the arch it was magical, everyone was smiling and talking, some were, flying, it was filled with the one thing your mother tried to deprive off of you, magic.

[ficsforfangirls]

Favorite Fanfiction (That I’ve Written)

A Tomco where Star accidentally gives Marco hypothermia and calls upon Tom to keep him warm while she finds a cure.I’m going to link some of my favorite fanfiction - that I’ve written. I’ve decided to link my Top 10 Faves out of a total of 108 fanfiction stories between my Fanfiction.net and Archive of Our Own profiles. I do have some stories that are on both platforms, but there are plenty of stories that are exclusive to either website. Not all of my work on there is perfect, I’ve not always edited my work and I’ve been doing this for 12 years (though I think the oldest work I’ve left posted is from 2011). As I’ve gotten older, the work quality has improved, but that being said - this list is going to be the stories I’m most proud of and felt the happiest with when I was finished writing them.

So I’ll tag the story, include the fandom and the summary below the linked title. These are in no particular order. I will also have a small, bolded explanation why each story has made it onto this list. 1. A Hazard to Myself

(Harry Potter, Post-War)

This song!fic inspired by "Don't Let Me Get Me" by P!NK showcases Draco Malfoy reflecting with and talking to his psychiatrist - because he's not handling life after the war very well. TW: Mentions of alcohol abuse and self-harm, only in passing with absolutely no details of those acts.

This piece is one of those stories where the ending line was so powerful to me, and that song meant so much to me growing up, that I can’t ever read it without getting chills. Perhaps it could have been written better with fewer constraints, but the impact of it doesn’t change for me. This story always moves me every time I revisit it.

2. Dear Reader

(Harry Potter, Golden Era)

(5th Year - Assumed/Slight AU) Hermione decides the Hogwarts Library needs a piece of Muggle literature. Even though she doesn't expect anyone to find it, let alone respond to it, she is surprised when it is sent back to her within a couple of days – and with a letter, wouldn't you believe it? {rated based on future chapters}

This was the first wildly popular story I’d done in my fanfiction career. I even entered it into a contest to have it published after reworking it as an original piece. However, I was naive at the time and I didn’t edit it enough to get the votes. Still, it remains one of my favorites because I took something I loved from two different stories and made it my own so much so that it was wildly well received. I will always be proud of what I accomplished with this story.

3. Forever & Always, Clara

(Doctor Who, 12th Doctor)

This piece is a letter written to the Doctor as a means for Clara to say a proper and final farewell to the man who has so radically defined her life.

This was just a personal piece. I didn’t write it for any particular reason other than I was inspired to do so. I loved these characters together and by themselves separately. Losing them on the show was difficult and I wanted a more solid closure. I wrote this entirely for myself but I felt that, despite the distinct lack of popularity, it was still a good piece all together.

4. I Don’t F-cking Care

(Carry On)

This fanfiction depicts the struggles that Simon Snow and Baz Grimm-Pitch experience in their relationship that starts with them being enemies, how their timing is never quite right, and big life changes that force them to reassess what truly matters when it comes to their love for each other. ! Please review disclaimer thoroughly prior to reading this piece to avoid triggers !

Thanks to my good friend @ouranose - I got into the Carry On fandom. I had already read Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell, so it wouldn’t have been long before I got into it on my own, but she jumpstarted the process. It’s been a great time, of course, and one of my comfort fandoms now. What I really enjoyed about this one was that it was dark and imperfect and realistic and true to the blurry nature of their relationship. It’s one of the longest one-shot pieces I’ve ever written, and for that reason alone, on of those stories I’ll never forget. I put a lot of work into it and I think it shows.

5. Library Kisses

(Harry Potter, Golden Era)

This story details the romance of Hermione and Harry after a late night kiss through the Battle of Hogwarts. Hermione, Harry and Ron learn about each other and evolve as couples and friends along the way. Rated T, but may contain some M chapters.

Yikes? I shouldn’t start this by saying ‘yikes’ about the story. I wrote this many years ago, when I was very young (18 years old, just out of high school). I had a child in high school and drew heavily on the experience of being an intelligent woman who made a mistake and incorporated that into this story. It diverts from the canon quite a bit, but with this being the oldest story I’ve written available online, I think it shows that I’ve always had the skill and the drive to pursue writing as career opportunity. I love to do this, and despite my many pitfalls as an 18-year-old writer, this story has 73,368 views anyway. It is still, to this day, my third most popular story on Fanfiction.net and I’m okay with that because we should always be proud of where we started.

6. Little Talks

(Merlin, BBC)

This fic follows Merlin and Morgana from the first day they begin to fall in love until their first day together in the afterlife. Based off of the song by Of Monsters and Men. Rated T For - Brief death scene, suggestive adult themes.

Hands down, this has got to be favorite fanfiction piece that I’ve ever written. I was trying to do a lot with this story, and I think I was successful in most every front, though I wish I had edited it better at the time. It started out as a passion project and ended up being a comfort one. I hated the way Merlin ended and felt that I could write a better story - which wasn’t the first time I had ever felt that way, but the first time I ever executed those emotions to do something. It’s not my most popular piece, having written this towards the end of the Merlin fandom’s lifespan, but it doest rank among the top 10 pieces with the most traffic. I felt very connected to the song, the show, and the outline of this story. It’s also the first piece of fanfiction my husband ever read and felt was done better than the show (which is hard to do because he’s a canon-only-verse kind of guy). I’ll never not love this story.

7. Just One Yesterday

(Supernatural)

I've been hiding from him. I don't even think of him by name. I miss him but now that I'm a monster I don't think I can ever be close to him again. I am so afraid of the consequences of implicating him any further... But I just can't stop being there for him... I need him... {T for moderate violence; regular swearing; major character death}

This is yet another passion piece. I had outlined it during my lunch breaks at work, or when I was waiting for X, Y, or Z to finish loading on the computer. Am I proud to have done this is stolen moments? Not really. But the outcome is an emotional piece that I think really captured how I’ve always felt about the ship (Destiel). The stats for this piece are abysmal, but that means nothing to me because I felt awesome about the story I was telling.

8. In The Summer...

(Percy Jackson, Heroes of Olympus)

The seasons used to mean something very different to Nico, but those days are gone. And he wants Percy Jackson to know that he's moved on.

This is a poem that I wasn’t even meant to write. I had asked a friend to write it (That’s @ouranose again because she’s pretty much the only friend I’ve got). But in the end, she lost the lines she had crafted for it, I think, and it fell off the metaphorical production board. When we started this PJO/HOO series of poems, I took on the task instead because I loved the idea of it so much. I did much better than I expected, having never written anything substantial for PJO/HOO before, and for that reason I’ll always be proud of the way I show the changing of feelings towards someone that you used to love.

9. Make Memories

(Girl Meets World)

Excerpt/Summary: Shawn and Katy decide that Maya should make memories before her senior year of high school. They decide to send her to a camp out of state for six weeks so that she can experience life that is different from the city.

Lucas decides that it's time to do something for himself. After seeing an article about a six week camp out of state he decides to register and take a chance.

Unfortunately, Maya finds herself shacking up with an all-too familiar face after a transcription error by the receptionist of the camp.

“They thought your name was Luna?” Maya questions.

Goodness, where do I even start? After I had my son, I found a book a few years afterward and it was about a pregnant teenager who has to make the decision to have a baby or have an abortion. There’s so much more to the book and I loved reading it, but I drew from that story a bit to craft this Girl Meets World piece that allowed me to really be original more than most any other piece I’ve ever done. It is popular enough for a dead fandom, still getting more views and kudos every week at a slow rate. I was just proud that I could take elements from both of these shows that I loved and craft a romance that was focused on the emotional aspect of loving someone without making it too sexualized.

10. An Untitled Tomco

(Star vs. The Forces of Evil)

A Tomco where Star accidentally gives Marco hypothermia and calls upon Tom to keep him warm while she finds a cure.

I have never watched a single episode of Star vs. The Forces of Evil. Someone made a request for me to write it and I researched the characters and the ship. I wanted to craft this believable story seamlessly, as if I had seen it and knew all there was to know. And, by some miracle, it worked! This is one of the most popular stories on my Archive of Our Own despite not having been there nearly as long as the three others that surpass it’s viewership. I felt that I had done very good work and made the most of the research that I had done to craft this story. It’s one of those experiences that reminded me that I’m more than capable as a writer and that I can do anything when I’ve set myself to it.

[mlleedom]

White Frights - The Villains and the Fall Guys

White Frights - The Villains and the Fall Guys

February 2002

I don't know what it is, but every time I see a white guy walking towards me, I tense up. My heart starts racing, and I immediately begin to look for an escape route and a means to defend myself. I kick myself for even being in this part of town after dark. Didn't I notice the suspicious gangs of white people lurking on every street corner, drinking Starbucks and wearing their gang colors of Gap turquoise or J Crew mauve? What an idiot! Now the white person is coming closer, closer - and then - whew! He walks by without harming me, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

White people scare the crap out of me. This may be hard for you to understand - considering that I am white - but then again, my colour gives me a certain insight. For instance, I find myself pretty scary a lot of the time, so I know what I'm talking about. You can take my word for it: if you find yourself suddenly surrounded by white people, you better watch out. Anything can happen. As white people, we've been lulled into thinking it's safe to be around other white people. We've been taught since birth that it's the people of that other colour we need to fear. They're the ones who'll slit your throat!

Yet as I look back on my life, a strange but unmistakable pattern seems to emerge. Every person who has ever harmed me in my lifetime - the boss who fired me, the teacher who flunked me, the principal who punished me, the kid who hit me in the eye with a rock, the executive who didn't renew TV Nation, the guy who was stalking me for three years, the accountant who double-paid my taxes, the drunk who smashed into me, the burglar who stole my stereo, the contractor who overcharged me, the girlfriend who left me, the next girlfriend who left even sooner, the person in the office who stole cheques from my chequebook and wrote them out to himself for a total of $16,000 - every one of these individuals has been a white person. Coincidence? I think not.

I have never been attacked by a black person, never been evicted by a black person, never had my security deposit ripped off by a black landlord, never had a black landlord, never had a meeting at a Hollywood studio with a black executive in charge, never had a black person deny my child the college of her choice, never been puked on by a black teenager at a Mötley Crüe concert, never been pulled over by a black cop, never been sold a lemon by a black car salesman, never seen a black car salesman, never had a black person deny me a bank loan, and I've never heard a black person say, "We're going to eliminate 10,000 jobs here - have a nice day!"

I don't think that I'm the only white guy who can make these claims. Every mean word, every cruel act, every bit of pain and suffering in my life has had a Caucasian face attached to it.

So, um, why is it exactly that I should be afraid of black people?

I look around at the world I live in - and, I hate to tell tales out of school, but it's not the African-Americans who have made this planet such a pitiful, scary place. Recently, a headline on the front of the Science section of the New York Times asked Who Built The H-Bomb? The article went on to discuss a dispute between the men who claim credit for making the first bomb. Frankly, I could have cared less - because I already know the only pertinent answer: "It was a white guy!" No black guy ever built or used a bomb designed to wipe out hordes of innocent people, whether in Oklahoma City, Columbine or Hiroshima. No, friends, it's always the white guy. Let's go to the tote board:

· Who gave us the black plague? A white guy.

· Who invented PBC, PVC, PBB, and a host of chemicals that are killing us? White guys.

· Who has started every war America has been in? White men.

· Who invented the punchcard ballot? A white man.

· Whose idea was it to pollute the world with the internal combustion engine? Whitey, that's who.

· The Holocaust? That guy really gave white people a bad name.

· The genocide of Native Americans? White man.

· Slavery? Whitey!

· US companies laid off more than 700,000 people in 2001. Who ordered the lay-offs? White CEOs.

You name the problem, the disease, the human suffering, or the abject misery visited upon millions, and I'll bet you 10 bucks I can put a white face on it faster than you can name the members of 'NSync.

And yet, when I turn on the news each night, what do I see again and again? Black men alleged to be killing, raping, mugging, stabbing, gang banging, looting, rioting, selling drugs, pimping, ho-ing, having too many babies, fatherless, motherless, Godless, penniless. "The suspect is described as a black male... the suspect is described as a black male... THE SUSPECT IS DESCRIBED AS A BLACK MALE..." No matter what city I'm in, the news is always the same, the suspect always the same unidentified black male. I'm in Atlanta tonight, and I swear the police sketch of the black male suspect on TV looks just like the black male suspect I saw on the news last night in Denver and the night before in LA. In every sketch he's frowning, he's menacing - and he's wearing the same knit cap! Is it possible that it's the same black guy committing every crime in America?

I believe we've become so used to this image of the black man as predator that we are forever ruined by this brainwashing. In my first film, Roger & Me, a white woman on social security clubs a rabbit to death so that she can sell him as "meat" instead of as a pet. I wish I had a nickel for every time in the past 10 years that someone has come up to me and told me how "horrified" they were when they saw that "poor little cute bunny" bonked on the head. The scene, they say, made them physically sick. The Motion Picture Association of America gave Roger & Me an R [18] rating in response to that rabbit killing. Teachers write to me and say they have to edit that part out of the film, if they want to show it to their students.

But less than two minutes after the bunny lady does her deed, I included footage of a scene in which police in Flint, Michigan, shot a black man who was wearing a Superman cape and holding a plastic toy gun. Not once - not ever - has anyone said to me, "I can't believe you showed a black man being shot in your movie! How horrible! How disgusting! I couldn't sleep for weeks." After all, he was just a black man, not a cute, cuddly bunny. The ratings board saw absolutely nothing wrong with that scene. Why? Because it's normal, natural. We've become so accustomed to seeing black men killed - in the movies and on the evening news - that we now accept it as standard operating procedure. No big deal! That's what blacks do - kill and die. Ho-hum. Pass the butter.

It's odd that, despite the fact that most crimes are committed by whites, black faces are usually attached to what we think of as "crime". Ask any white person who they fear might break into their home or harm them on the street and, if they're honest, they'll admit that the person they have in mind doesn't look much like them. The imaginary criminal in their heads looks like Mookie or Hakim or Kareem, not little freckle-faced Jimmy.

No matter how many times their fellow whites make it clear that the white man is the one to fear, it simply fails to register. Every time you turn on the TV to news of another school shooting, it's always a white kid who's conducting the massacre. Every time they catch a serial killer, it's a crazy white guy. Every time a terrorist blows up a federal building, or a madman gets 400 people to drink Kool-Aid, or a Beach Boys songwriter casts a spell causing half a dozen nymphets to murder "all the piggies" in the Hollywood Hills, you know it's a member of the white race up to his old tricks.

So why don't we run like hell when we see whitey coming toward us? Why don't we ever greet the Caucasian job applicant with, "Gee, uh, I'm sorry, there aren't any positions available right now"? Why aren't we worried sick about our daughters marrying white guys? And why isn't Congress trying to ban the scary and offensive lyrics of Johnny Cash ("I shot a man in Reno/just to watch him die"), the Dixie Chicks ("Earl had to die"), or Bruce Springsteen ("I killed everything in my path/I can't say that I'm sorry for the things that we done").

Why the focus on rap lyrics? Why doesn't the media print lyrics such as the following, and tell the truth? "I sold bottles of sorrow, then chose poems and novels" (Wu-Tang Clan); "People use yo' brain to gain" (Ice Cube); "A poor single mother on welfare... tell me how ya did it" (Tupac Shakur); "I'm trying to change my life, see I don't wanna die a sinner" (Master P).

African-Americans have been on the lowest rung of the economic ladder since the day they were dragged here in chains. Every other immigrant group has been able to advance from the bottom to the higher levels of our society. Even Native Americans, who are among the poorest of the poor, have fewer children living in poverty than African-Americans.

You probably thought things had got better for blacks in this country. After all, considering the advances we've made eliminating racism in our society, one would think our black citizens might have seen their standard of living rise. A survey published in the Washington Post in July 2001 showed that 40%-60% of white people thought the average black person had it as good or better than the average white person.

Think again. According to a study conducted by the economists Richard Vedder, Lowell Gallaway and David C Clingaman, the average income for a black American is 61% less per year than the average white income. That is the same percentage difference as it was in 1880. Not a damned thing has changed in more than 120 years.

Want more proof? Consider the following:

· Black heart attack patients are far less likely than whites to undergo cardiac catheterisation, regardless of the race of their doctors.

· Whites are five times more likely than blacks to receive emergency clot-busting treatment after suffering a stroke.

· Black women are four times more likely than white women to die while giving birth.

· Black levels of unemployment have been roughly twice those of whites since 1954.

So how have we white people been able to get away with this? Caucasian ingenuity! You see, we used to be real dumb. Like idiots, we wore our racism on our sleeve. We did really obvious things, like putting up signs on rest-room doors that said WHITES ONLY. We made black people sit at the back of the bus. We prevented them from attending our schools or living in our neighbourhoods. They got the crappiest jobs (those advertised for NEGROES ONLY), and we made it clear that, if you weren't white, you were going to be paid a lower wage.

Well, this overt, over-the-top segregation got us into a heap of trouble. A bunch of uppity lawyers went to court. They pointed out that the 14th Amendment doesn't allow for anyone to be treated differently because of their race. Eventually, after a long procession of court losses, demonstrations and riots, we got the message: if you're going to be a successful racist, better find a way to do it with a smile on your face.

We even got magnanimous enough to say, "Sure, you can live here in our neighborhood; your kids can go to our kids' school. Why the hell not? We were just leaving, anyway." We smiled, gave black America a pat on the back - and then ran like the devil to the suburbs.

At work, we whites still get the plum jobs, double the pay, and a seat in the front of the bus to happiness and success. We've rigged the system from birth, guaranteeing that black people will go to the worst schools, thus preventing them from admission to the best colleges, and paving their way to a fulfilling life making our caffe lattes, servicing our BMWs, and picking up our trash. Oh, sure, a few slip by - but they pay an extra tariff for the privilege: the black doctor driving his BMW gets pulled over continually by the cops; the black Broadway actress can't get a cab after the standing ovation; the black broker is the first to be laid off because of "seniority".

We whites really deserve some kind of genius award for this. We talk the talk of inclusion, we celebrate the birthday of Dr King, we frown upon racist jokes. We never fail to drop a mention of "my friend - he's black..." We make sure we put our lone black employee up at the front reception desk so we can say, "See - we don't discriminate. We hire black people."

Yes, we are a very crafty, cagey race - and damn if we haven't got away with it!

I wonder how long we will have to live with the legacy of slavery. That's right. I brought it up. SLAVERY. You can almost hear the groans of white America whenever you bring up the fact that we still suffer from the impact of the slave system. Well, I'm sorry, but the roots of most of our social ills can be traced straight back to this sick chapter of our history. African-Americans never got a chance to have the same fair start that the rest of us got. Their families were willfully destroyed, their language and culture and religion stripped from them. Their poverty was institutionalized so that our cotton could get picked, our wars could be fought, our convenience stores could remain open all night. The America we've come to know would never have come to pass if not for the millions of slaves who built it and created its booming economy - and for the millions of their descendants who do the same dirty work for whites today.

It's not as if we're talking ancient Rome here. My grandfather was born just three years after the Civil War. That's right, my grandfather. My great-uncle was born before the Civil War. And I'm only in my 40s. Sure, people in my family seem to marry late, but the truth remains: I'm just two generations from slave times. That, my friends, is not a "long time ago". In the vast breadth of human history, it was only yesterday. Until we realize that, and accept that we do have a responsibility to correct an immoral act that still has repercussions today, we will never remove the single greatest stain on the soul of our country

© Michael Moore, 2002.

https://www.theguardian.com/books/2002/mar/30/features.weekend

I read this excerpt from Moore’s book at an open mic night at a coffee shop shortly after the book release in 2002. Moore has been labeled contentious and divisive. He was at the cutting edge in helping those impacted by the water crisis in Flint, MI. I can relate to this piece as I have never been harmed by a black person and what I have seen in the media throughout my 4+ decades has been a complete disconnect. 

[magic-magpie]

Forever Yours, Prompto

Sheesh, I haven’t been on in a while. I just haven’t had the motivation to write or anything, and so I kinda stopped going on Tumblr ‘cause then I’d feel bad for not writing. Not that I need to write, but I want to. But I’ve finally written something! I’ve gotten hella into FFXV, and Promptis has become my favourite ship of the series (I guess that was to be expected... the character dynamics are strikingly similar to my OTP of all time). I just love they way they interact and the brilliant, wholesome friendship they share! And yes, I do wish they’d be more than friends. Idk, I just feel like they’d be a really awesome couple. I’m not past Chapter Eight yet, though. But anyway, have this little Promptis fanfic I wrote! It’s an idea I’ve wanted to do for so long, but I’ve only just now been able to execute it. First time writing for FFXV, so my characterisation’s probably not perfect. Prompto’s incredibly similar to America from Hetalia though, and I write America frequently enough, so hopefully the characterisation works! Words - 1,883 Also, imagine the strikethrough stuff to be like actual scribble-outs.

Dear Noctis To Noctis Hey Noctis Hey Noct,

Okay, so, um, I’m writing this in the dead of the night outside of the tent using my torch ‘cause why not, eh? I mean, I don’t WANT to write out here (it’s cold and dark and SHIT I THINK A SPIDER CRAWLED ONTO MY ROCK FUCKING SHIT I JUST MOVED TO A TREE STUMP HOLY SHIT IF I WOKE ANY OF YOU GUYS UP I’M SORRY OKAY NOW WHERE WAS I) but writing out here where none of you know I’m writing is kinda safer, don’t ya think? (haha that transition tho) If I was writing some poetry or story or whatever I wouldn’t have to hide it so much, but it’s... not that. D’ya remember when we DID do that kinda stuff, back in high school? We’d make up lame-ass stories on the rooftop at lunchtime, trying to make weirder and weirder ones. I remember, my favourite was the one about the boy named Alaric Wrye who was actually a wolf in disguise and would sneak out every full moon to howl at the night but then his parents found out and so he was sent to the Wolf Institution to become a fully-fledged wolf and had to take a whole load of wolf tests and shit and then when he finally became a wolf he was crowned King of the Wolves and everyone had to bow down to him and – 

I kinda just realised how WEIRD that story is.

I think your favourite was the one about the small ant who wanted to be a super-duper famous singer so he made a rock band and started playing in gardens and stuff but then he grew enough of a following to start doing world tours and basically this small ant band was like hella famous in the human world but because none of the humans could see him properly ‘cause he’s tiny he took drugs to make himself massive but the drugs kinda killed him so he died as a massive-ass ant.

Yeah, that’s pretty weird too.

...Why am I talking about stories again? I’m not even WRITING a story. I’m writing a letter. To you. You’re not ever going to see it, but it’s for you.

Man, this is weird.

Well, I guess you’re wondering why I’m writing this, huh? Well, you WOULD be, if I gave it to you. But I’m not going to. I guess Ignis would call this a waste of his paper, but it’s only one sheet!

Okay, maybe it’s a little more. But STILL.

...Am I EVER going to start on why I’m writing this? I SHOULD, but, like... even the thought of WRITING it makes me nervous. Writing it would be like... making it definite. Absolute. Certain. That kind of thing. Currently, I can still pretend it’s not happening. I can still pretend I’m not thinking these thoughts, I’m not feeling these feelings. The thought of putting it down, of writing it in stone (or, well, paper) makes my stomach go all weird. Y’know how people talk about getting butterflies in your stomach? Yeah, I’ve got a whole KALEIDOSCOPE (yup, the word for a group of butterflies actually is ‘kaleidoscope’! I found that out, uh... two minutes ago).  

Having a kaleidoscope of butterflies inside your stomach is a WEIRD sensation, lemme tell ya. Like, imagine if EVERY time I hugged you the kaleidoscope started fluttering wildly and made you feel the things those protagonists of bad dating sims feel (although it’s impossible to be as cheesy and awful as that ‘Namco High’ dating sim. God, that was HILARIOUS. And terrible. But funny. I can’t believe we stayed up all night playing that shitty-ass game. We could’ve played King’s Knight or Mario Kart, but nope, we play shitty dating sims.).

...I just gave it away, didn’t I.

Anyway, as I guess you’ve guessed (or WOULD guess if you were actually gonna read this), I... love you like you think you’re hot want to date you want to kiss you want to just do stupid romantic stuff with you

Ah, fuck.

Okay, now I’m ACTUALLY going to say it. Just... gimme a minute.

Well, I just walked around the haven about twelve times and scrunched up the paper and threw it and then ran to get it back and almost got into a fight with some daemons but here we are.

I’m gonna say it. I’m gonna say it. I’m gonna say it.

Look, Noct. You’re my best friend, and the best person I know (don’t tell Ignis and Gladio). You’re funny (sometimes unintentionally), nice, fun to be with, and have really great hair. I guess it was only natural that I... started to like you.

Not like as in friend-like (although I still like you like a friend too), but like as in... like-like. As in, I want to go on stupid dates and randomly kiss you and cuddle when we have to share a bed and stroke your hair and give you flowers and wear each other’s clothes and touch our foreheads together and do those nose bump things and just do everything I’ve wanted to do for years now.

There. I said it.

...Why don’t I feel better? Why do I just feel WORSE? That wasn’t supposed to happen! I was supposed to confess everything into this letter and then I’d feel unburdened and I’d be able to finally let go of these goddamn feelings for you!

Oh. Right. It’s because I’ve liked you for years and my stupid heart’s become too attached to you.

I looked up stuff on how to get over your best friend, but it was all pretty unhelpful. They were all telling me to distance myself for a while! Um, no thanks. First of all, I don’t WANT to distance myself. Like I said, you’re the best person I know. Why would I want to spend any less time with my favourite person?! That would just be... boring. And second of all, I can’t distance myself, even if I wanted to. We share a TENT.

So... yeah. I like you. I like you too much, and I KNOW I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it! I’m really sorry, but I... just can’t.

I want to tell you upfront, I really do. But I don’t know whether you like me back. Sometimes I get these little feelings that you do. I dunno, sometimes I just catch you looking at me with this odd little smile on your face and then you’ll suddenly look away... or sometimes you’ll be a bit more touchy-feely than you need to be... and you tend to gravitate towards me whilst we’re walking... and you always seem to be closer to me than friends should be in a tent. But then, well, I’m probably misinterpreting all that because I so desperately want you to like me too. It’s confusing, isn’t it?

And then, well, if you don’t like me back, confessing to you would just be a dick move.

YOU wouldn’t class it as a dick move. Hell, you’d be pretty chill about it. But... I would. You’ve got so much on your shoulders right now. King Regis was murdered, Insomnia fell, Jared was killed, you’re going to get married, we’ve got to take back Insomnia, you’re pretty much the King... the list goes on. I know you, Noct. You’d feel guilty over rejecting me, and it’d weigh on your mind more than you care to admit.

Especially because, well... ‘cause you’re getting married.

I don’t know if you love Lady Luna, I don’t know if you love me, I don’t know if you love anyone at all. But I do know that you’re getting married to Lady Luna, not me. And if I ruined your special day with a stupid confession, I’d hate myself for it. It’s your special day where people are celebrating your marriage. That’s a day that’s supposed to make you happy, and it will, even if you’re not in love with Lady Luna (and if you are, then you’ll be on Cloud Nine!). She’s your friend, and you’ll be happy with her. I don’t want you to look at me on your wedding day with pity, I don’t want you to look at me and remember that I’m not enjoying the day as much as I should be.

So I’m not going to tell you how I feel. I’m just going to... just going to bottle it up and act like I always do!

Although, I get the feeling that my normal actions don’t cover it up well. I mean, I don’t think YOU’VE guessed (you’re kinda as emotionally-perceptive as a rock), but I feel like Ignis has, and maybe even Gladio. They haven’t said anything, but, like, I dunno, they just give me these... looks, sometimes. Like, I’ll just be leaning on you whilst playing King’s Knight and Ignis will just kind of... smile? It’s a small, tiny thing, but he still does it, I swear on the Six. And then I’m SURE that both of them just sorta... glance at me whenever we start talking about your wedding. I might be imagining things, but... I swear I’m not. So, like, I try to remove suspicion. Whaddaya think all that stuff with Cindy is? Yeah, she’s cool and nice and pretty hot and would probably be fun to date, but it wouldn’t be half as awesome as dating you would be. I just gush over her so that you’ll actually believe I’m head over heels for her instead of, well, you.

Come ON, we’d be so awesome together! We could go on dates to the arcade and order pizza at three in the morning and stay up watching shitty movies and I know we already do that but we could do it as boyfriends instead of best friends and I just 

...Sorry. Haha, I’ve gotta work on keeping my fantasies in check, huh?

...I wish I was the one getting married to you.

Okay, right! I guess that’s, er, my confession done then! I’ve written my feelings in a letter addressed to you which you’re never ever going to read, and so I should stop wanting you so badly!

...I’m never going to stop, am I?

But... even if I’m never going to stop liking you, I’m still going to be your best friend. I’m still going to do stupid stuff with you and take funny pictures and loudly sing terrible songs at one in the morning. I’m never going to be the one who you kiss, but dammit, I’m going to be the greatest best friend ever! And on your wedding, I’ll be the best best man Eos has ever seen.

Because loving you means accepting that I’ll never be anything more than a best friend. But it also means finding happiness and enjoying the special bond we do have.

Well, that’s that. I was going to throw this away into the lake, but... I think I’ll keep it. Just, don’t wear my jacket, yeah? And ESPECIALLY don’t check my front pocket. I’m warning you, Noct!

Love From Yours sincerely Best wishes Forever yours,

Prompto ✌ 

P.S. Sorry about the wet patches. They’re... not rain.

[robbiejpennebaker1954-blog]

Navigating The Preschool Admissions Process: Getting In And $1,000 Application Fees

When my wife was pregnant in late 2016, a friend told me, “You need to apply to preschool within the first three months after he's born.“

He had one kid in private elementary school and two kids in private middle school. He is also a centimillionaire. 

“Absurd!” I responded.

“Hey, it's up to you buddy. Getting into preschool in San Francisco is harder than getting into Princeton. Don't let your lack of preparedness hurt your son's chances for a bright future.“

Damn it. Guilt sets in.

“Well since you put it that way. I guess I'll get on it. Want to give us a recommendation when he goes in 2019 or 2020?“

“Of course I will,” my friend replied as we resumed our tennis match.

This post is an introduction into how daunting it is for families living in big cities to get their kids into preschool. It should also give some sense as to why there's so much anxiety among parents and children early on.

As someone who has questioned the necessity of paying for private grade school tuition, yet who also wants the best for his son, this post serves as a type of mental penance for going through this process. I've spent the last seven years trying to escape the grind, but somehow, I'm always getting pulled back in. 

I also hope this post brings joy to families who live in lower cost areas of the country who don't have to worry about hyper competition due to a lack of supply. Living in a big city has its perks, but helping your child get a quality education is not one of them. It's only until kindergarten where all families are eligible for a free public education.

The Beginning Of The Preschool Grind

When it comes to getting your child into a top preschool in a big city, it's all about who you know, rather than your child's abilities. After all, your little one isn't going to cure malaria at two or three years old.

The demand is so high simply because there aren't enough schools. I heard through a board member at one preschool that 100 kids applied for the four spots available to non-sibling children. Siblings get automatic acceptance.

Since our boy is our first child, we have to blaze our own trail, Financial Samurai style, in order for him to get in anywhere. But we enjoy the challenge, partly because we like the excitement that uncertainty brings.

Given the average acceptance rate for the top-rated preschools is around 5%, the logical conclusion is to apply to 20 in order to get into one.

We didn't go that far, but we did apply to eight preschools in San Francisco and one preschool in Honolulu. Three of the applications are for 2019 when he's first eligible to attend at 2.5 years old. The remaining five applications are for 2020, when most preschools allow children to enroll.

Each application fee cost us between $80 – $150, or $1,000 total.

Since all preschools cost more or less the same in tuition (~$1,500 – $2,600 a month depending on how many days a week), we figured we might as well apply to the top-rated ones. Surely you would do the same.

If our son gets rejected by all nine, then we will home school him since we have maximum flexibility. That doesn't sound like a bad idea at all actually.

Why Our Chance Of Getting In Is Slim

I don't remember the last time I felt like an idiot. Actually, maybe it was last summer when I didn't sell my House Sale Fund portfolio when it was up 13%. Yeah, that was dumb to not take profits when it surpassed my 10% blue sky target.

But with this preschool stuff, I feel lost because I realize the odds are extremely stacked against my family and there's really not much I can do to improve these odds. And to spend $1,000 on preschool applications alone leaves me with a funny feeling – like I'm a sucker.

Here are some of the reasons why I believe we've got little chance of getting our boy into a top-rated preschool. These reasons should help you appreciate what you have and question the choice of living an unconventional lifestyle.

1) We have a small network. As two stay at home parents who've been away from the traditional workforce for years, my wife and I don't have a large network of parents who have kids at XYZ preschool who can vouch for us. As a result, we are at a large disadvantage simply because not enough of the community knows who we are.

One can easily imagine a colleague or a manager on the board of a preschool who provides a fellow colleague an in. Many large corporations have tie-ups with preschools as a benefit to their employees. That's just the way the world works. We take care of people who we know and like. Being away from networking activities for seven years is likely going to hurt us.

2) We have low-level jobs. On our application, I say I'm an assistant high school tennis coach (not even the head coach) and a stay at home dad. My wife says says she's a freelance writer and a stay at home mom. We don't ever say we run Financial Samurai due to our desire for privacy.

I think being a stay at home parent is an extremely important job, but we can't compete with parents who are executives at a hot startup or partners in venture capital, private equity, or investment banking. I swear all the parents who attended the open houses we went to worked in these fields.

Society does not appreciate creatives as much as they appreciate high powered money making occupations. If society did, it wouldn't push our artists, writers, poets, and teachers out of the city. 

From the school's perspective, they want parents who can be ambassadors of the school in their large networks and also be financial backers down the road. If you work in private equity, you will naturally have lots of rich friends who will have children and donate big bucks down the road.

If you're an assistant high school tennis coach who makes $1,200 a month like I do, your circle of friends probably isn't going to be as desirable to the school.

And yes, I spent one month's of coaching salary on preschool application fees.

3) We lead unconventional lifestyles with no recognition. It's funny. I dislike fame. But you better believe that if I was famous in a good way, my son would have a huge leg up getting into schools. Do you really think any college would reject Malia Obama even if she had terrible grades and test scores? Of course not. Alas, we are nobodies.

The only thing we do is help people achieve financial freedom sooner in order to live their best lives possible. Helping people achieve financial security is nice, especially since we do so for free, but a school would rather have parents working conventional jobs at well-known companies. It's part of the cachet, even if the employer is known to feature fake news and manipulate your private data.

The only reason I'd ever give up my privacy or lead a more conventional lifestyle is if I could help my son. And I'm not sure preschool is worth the price.

We really cherish being able to spend as much time as possible with our son as stay at home parents. But we recognize we will be viewed as misfits given less than 1% of households have two stay at home parents.

4) We do not come from a wealthy legacy family. I know many people in San Francisco who live in multi-million dollar mansions, but who have occupations that cannot afford such luxurious lifestyles. What's going on is that multi-generational family money has allowed them to live a life of leisure.

For example, one family founded a newspaper and sold it for $660 million in the mid-1990s. Surely the $660 million has grown to over $1 billion today. By setting up multi-million dollar endowments at several schools (preschool, middle school, high school, college), their heirs get guaranteed entrance to these schools forever. Are the heirs bad people? Of course not. They're just like everybody else, except with tremendous advantages.

We know that kids of legacy donors have a 70%+ acceptance rate at Harvard versus

5) We are not part of the majority. Schools without racial bias would generally reflect the overall racial makeup of the city e.g. a preschool should have a similar demographic makeup as San Francisco: 48% White, 33% Asian, 6% Black, 0.4% Pacific Islander, 0.5% Native American, 6.6% Other, and 4.7% Bi-racial or Multi-racial.

Unfortunately, based on the data we've read and what we've observed after visiting several preschools, about 75% of the student population is White versus 48% for the entire San Francisco population. A ~27% difference is statistically significant, which means something is up. 

Perhaps the huge discrepancy is because of legacy and family connections, which has carried on for generations. After all, these preschools are private, and it's natural to take care of their own.

Although I belong to a private tennis club where the racial demographic is quite skewed like at many private preschools, I'm not sure we want our son growing up in such a homogenous environment. As a kid growing up overseas attending international schools, I found it wonderful to be immersed in so many different cultures.

When I entered the real world, it was much easier to assimilate and grow. 

See: How The Rich Get Richer: Competing In A Rigged Game

Just Got To Keep Trying

Whatever you do, know the odds are stacked against you. You can either give up, or you can keep on going. I've always chosen the latter. As a parent now, I've got no other choice but to stay on the ball.

Of course I will always have fear of rejection. I fear the continuous rejection I've experienced will continue on with my son. And unless we move to Asia or Honolulu, it stings knowing that my son will one day be discriminated against and rejected like his old man was growing up.

But on the bright side, the difficulties I went through growing up helped make me who I am today. And frankly, I feel pretty darn good about my situation. It's healthy to sometimes get told you're not good enough so you develop a chip on your shoulder to prove your detractors wrong.

A part of me hopes we get rejected by the early start preschools we applied to for 2019 so that we can go on a great adventure and travel the world again.

How amazing would it be to relocate to Honolulu this summer and enjoy the islands until the fall of 2020 when he's eligible for a larger number of preschools at 3.5 years old? There's always a bright side in everything. 

If you're a parent in a big city applying to a top preschool, let me leave you with some following thoughts:

* Get on the ball and apply early since you will eventually have to apply. Make sure you meet every deadline and send follow up letters to show your continued interest. Schools want to hear about the progress of your little one. The latest you can usually apply is the fall before your kid is planning on attending.

* It's worth building relationships with parents who have kids attending your target preschools or board members of your target preschools. Worst case, you'll make some friends or know you don't want to be part of their community.

* Attend all recommended “get to know you and the school” events. These include lunches, dinners, fundraisers, etc.

* Create a picture collage and tell your story. Don't just upload one picture in the application, make a collage of pictures that show progression over time. Preschools want to have a good community of parents they can rely on to be good ambassadors and available volunteers.

* Attending an “elite preschool” might worsen your chances of getting into a good grade school program. Therefore, look to diversify. It's not the end all be all if you don't get into the top-rated preschool.

* So long as the preschool has a good reputation, has a good teacher:student ratio, and has involved parents, it should be good enough. Don't underestimate the value of proximity either.

* Consider parent co-op preschools, public preschool if you qualify, or for-profit education systems like Gymboree that accept everyone.

Apologies if this post has raised the anxiety level of some parents who might not have thought about the preschool application process in such detail. I just like to write out my thoughts because I'm thorough.

At the end of the day, we're only applying to preschool, so don't sweat it! I just thought it'd be fun to chronicle this journey.

The most important things we can provide our children are love, time, and attention. Besides, the internet has democratized learning and opportunity.

Here's to the excitement of the great unknown!

Related:

How To Stop Worrying About Your Child's Future In This Brutally Competitive World

Why Households Need To Earn $300,000 A Year To Live In A Middle Class Lifestyle Today

Is Private Grade School K-8 Worth It?

What If You Go To Harvard And End Up A Nobody?

Readers, have any of you gone through a similarly rigorous process of applying to preschool for your children because there was too much demand and not enough schools? Do you think schools should refund the application fee, or at least part of it, if your kid is not accepted? Why don't preschools want more racial and socioeconomic diversity? Do you think highlighting Financial Samurai would be helpful since we don't have full-time jobs?

The post Navigating The Preschool Admissions Process: Getting In And $1,000 Application Fees appeared first on Financial Samurai.

[woodworkingpastor]

Sunday, June 14, 2020 The Groaning of Creation Romans 8:18-23

We come today to a sermon text that I have been intending to use in worship since the first Sunday after Easter.  It seems like 10 years ago, but it was only back in January that I spent two weeks at Bethany Seminary studying Paul’s letter to the Romans, and one of my class assignments involved Romans 8:18-30.  I knew then that they would be helpful for our life together following Jesus, so I outlined three sermons from them.

But as Easter came and went, other Scripture texts kept intervening: first it was the great hymn of praise from Philippians 2; then the great Christological passage of Colossians 1. The church calendar also offered some important considerations.

So now we are here, reflecting together on a text that focuses on suffering in a period of time—the “now time” as Paul describes in Romans 8:18—that is characterized by suffering and upheaval.  When we look back on 2020 we remember wildfires in Australia; a day where a good bit of Roanoke was shut down for a police manhunt; the coronavirus; and extreme racial tensions. Perhaps we can see how all of life—not just human life, but all of creation—has been “subjected to futility” and is in “bondage to decay.” One of the great gifts of Scripture is that it both tells the truth and enables us to tell the truth about what we see.  We don’t have to sugar coat what we see in this world. And when we remember to put on our mask to protect others from potentially transmitting Covid-19, we can also remember to not put on a different kind of mask—the masks we wear when we want to fake feeling good when things are really terrible in our lives. Because the Bible tells the truth, we can just call things for what they are and seek to find Jesus in the midst of them.  The brokenness of creation brought on by sin is on display for all to see.  There is no part of the created order that is immune to the corruption caused by sin.

The cross and God’s creation

God’s ultimate answer to this brokenness is the cross.  Jesus was crucified so that all of creation could be brought back into right relation with God and ultimately be fully restored to God’s original intent. Paul has already told the Romans that

We know that our old self was crucified with him so that the body of sin might be destroyed, and we might no longer be enslaved to sin (Romans 6:6, NRSV).

But the cross was a problem for the early church because it was the method of execution reserved for political prisoners. Crucifixion identified Jesus in the eyes of many as a bandit, insurrectionist, or political revolutionary, and it raised suspicion with people, especially those who had grown up with a sense of appreciation or patriotism toward Roman culture. The method of Jesus’ death would have caused Roman citizens to look upon Christians with suspicion.

Which is precisely what happened.  Historical records exist from Roman authorities and bureaucrats tell us this very thing. The fact that Christians followed a leader who had been crucified, and who themselves would not swear an oath to Caesar or take up arms or come to the gladiatorial games in the arena; who voluntarily shared their money; who treated women and slaves on an equal basis with free men caused others to think they were strange or worse.  

The Christians Paul is writing to in this letter knew something about suffering. Jewish Christians had recently been expelled from Rome and had only recently been allowed to return. They knew about living in a society that did not fully value them.

These verses offer us an important reminder: the scope of suffering goes farther than humans.  We human beings have an unhelpful habit of thinking everything is about us. Even worse, we sometimes think that being concerned for creation is not an important priority for the church. But Paul reminds us here that creation is also suffering; creation was in fact “subjected to futility” because of human sin. This involves more than just what is described in the curse in Genesis 3 (thorns and thistles and hard labor to earn a living); even the Christians in Rome knew of deforestation, erosion, silting of the harbors, etc., problems that arose because of our attempts to dominate creation and force it to do our bidding. Creation has a balance that nurtures life well, but when we force creation to operate in ways that solely benefit us, creation suffers.

One of the most profound stories of creation’s suffering is the near loss of the Aral Sea in Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan in Central Asia. The area around the Aral Sea is mostly desert, but farmers in the area wanted to grow cotton so that global consumers could have inexpensive T-shirts. So they began diverting water from the rivers that fed the Aral Sea, eventually diverting so much that the Aral Sea shrank to 1/10th of it’s original size.  The loss of a body of water that large literally changed the weather patterns in that area and ruined the fishing industry.  

All of creation—both human life and the basic functioning of our planet—is subjected to futility even by unintentional human interactions.   Both non-human creation and human beings suffer.  We see it all around us.  

Our attitude toward suffering

Having established this, Paul can now move to what he wants to talk about: the attitude Christians should have toward suffering.  Suffering is all around us these days.  Some of it is what we would call “the normal sufferings of life.”  Some of it is unique to covid-19.  Some of it is related to the racial strife in our country. I really wonder if this is why other things kept “getting in the way” of my preaching this set of sermons.  How should we view suffering, especially after we have been reconciled with Christ? The New Testament gives us a way to understand our sufferings that is quite different than we might expect.

The first thing Paul wants us to realize in this section is that suffering can help us grow closer to Jesus and become more faithful in our living.  As difficult as it can be to realize, suffering may be the truest indication that we are living faithfully, following on the right path with Jesus. When we suffer hardship because of our trust in Jesus, it means that we are taking the way Jesus wants us to live very seriously, and it also means that we are living our faith in the world, engaging people and situations around us.  This kind of suffering will be rewarded on the day that Jesus makes a new heaven and a new earth. Paul told the Romans in 8:17 that we are

children…and joint heirs with Christ—if, in fact, we suffer with him so that we may also be glorified with him.

Romans 8:22 tells us that

the whole creation has been groaning in labor pains until now.

I always feel like I’m on thin ice when talking about childbirth and labor pains. Being close to childbirth is not at all the same as being in childbirth.  And yet I’ve been told that the pain of childbirth is bearable because of the joyous outcome. The difficult and painful work is literally birthing new life.  The groaning of creation in labor pains is not just suffering. Creation is laboring for this new thing that God wants to do in the world, pushing us toward the day when all things will be made new.

Because of this, Paul can raise the second aspect of understanding suffering: our suffering pales in comparison to the glory that is to come. One of the things that so many people are finding difficult in this time of social distancing is the loss of control over time.  We find ourselves living on biological time—choices and activities are limited or are being made for us because of a virus. Our work, school, church, and personal calendars have all become of secondary importance. We are living on biological time that has pushed us uncomfortably close to our own mortality. We are certainly not used to this, and it makes us uncomfortable.

When I was studying these verses at Bethany Seminary, it was so helpful to study alongside members of the EYN church. They have experienced limitations on time, too, knowing the Boko Haram insurgency, and the threats of bandits, kidnapping, deprivation among Christians. Similarly, it has been helpful to hear what racism feels like from African-American pastors and friends. There is an experience of suffering there that I simply do not understand because I’ve never experienced it.

Hopefully our suffering will cause us to start thinking about how we live when we are not in control of the time—when the “now time” (as Paul calls it here) is characterized by suffering and difficulty. Does living on time that is not our own—a time that is characterized by suffering—make us start thinking twice about following Jesus?  Or does remaining faithful through suffering cause sin to die and godliness grow? Are we viewing the “now time” against the “glory that is about to be revealed to us?”

Paul calls us to measure our lives by apocalyptic time—a time which is yet to be revealed, but a time in which we have placed our hopes.  The great apocalyptic hope is that all things—both creation and humanity—will be renewed.

Psalm 13 offers a helpful perspective on all of this, a perspective that is rooted in telling the truth about the times the Psalmist was in:

How long, O LORD? Will you forget me forever?

    How long will you hide your face from me?

How long must I bear pain in my soul,

     and have sorrow in my heart all day long?

How long shall my enemy be exalted over me?

 But I trusted in your steadfast love;

     my heart shall rejoice in your salvation.

I will sing to the LORD,

     because he has dealt bountifully with me.

[samuelfields]

Navigating The Preschool Admissions Process: Getting In And $1,000 Application Fees

When my wife was pregnant in late 2016, a friend told me, “You need to apply to preschool within the first three months after he’s born.“

He had one kid in private elementary school and two kids in private middle school. His is also a centimillionaire. 

“Absurd!” I responded.

“Hey, it’s up to you buddy. Getting into preschool in San Francisco is harder than getting into Princeton. Don’t let your lack of preparedness hurt your son’s chances for a bright future.“

Damn it. Guilt sets in.

“Well since you put it that way. I guess I’ll get on it. Want to give us a recommendation when he goes in 2019 or 2020?“

“Of course I will,” my friend replied as we resumed our tennis match.

This post is an introduction into how daunting it is for families living in big cities to get their kids into preschool. It should also give some sense as to why there’s so much anxiety among parents and children early on.

As someone who has questioned the necessity of paying for private grade school tuition, yet who also wants the best for his son, this post serves as a type of mental penance for going through this process. I’ve spent the last seven years trying to escape the grind, but somehow, I’m always getting pulled back in. 

I also hope this post brings joy to families who live in lower cost areas of the country who don’t have to worry about hyper competition due to a lack of supply. Living in a big city has its perks, but helping your child get a quality education is not one of them.

The Beginning Of The Preschool Grind

When it comes to getting your child into a top preschool in a big city, it’s all about who you know, rather than your child’s abilities. After all, your little one isn’t going to cure malaria at two or three years old.

The demand is so high simply because there aren’t enough schools. I heard through a board member at one preschool that 100 kids applied for the four spots available to non-sibling children. Siblings get automatic acceptance.

Since our boy is our first child, we have to blaze our own trail, Financial Samurai style, in order for him to get in anywhere. But we enjoy the challenge, partly because we like the excitement that uncertainty brings.

Given the average acceptance rate for the top-rated preschools is around 5%, the logical conclusion is to apply to 20 in order to get into one.

We didn’t go that far, but we did apply to eight preschools in San Francisco and one preschool in Honolulu. Three of the applications are for 2019 when he’s first eligible to attend at 2.5 years old. The remaining five applications are for 2020, when most preschools allow children to enroll.

Each application fee cost us between $80 – $150, or $1,000 total.

Since all preschools cost more or less the same in tuition (~$1,500 – $2,600 a month depending on how many days a week), we figured we might as well apply to the top-rated ones. Surely you would do the same.

If our son gets rejected by all nine, then we will home school him since we have maximum flexibility. That doesn’t sound like a bad idea at all actually.

Why Our Chance Of Getting In Is Slim

I don’t remember the last time I felt like an idiot. Actually, maybe it was last summer when I didn’t sell my House Sale Fund portfolio when it was up 13%. Yeah, that was dumb to not take profits when it surpassed my 10% blue sky target.

But with this preschool stuff, I feel lost because I realize the odds are extremely stacked against my family and there’s really not much I can do to improve these odds. And to spend $1,000 on preschool applications alone leaves me with a funny feeling – like I’m a sucker.

Here are some of the reasons why I believe we’ve got little chance of getting our boy into a top-rated preschool. These reasons should help you appreciate what you have and question the choice of living an unconventional lifestyle.

1) We have a small network. As two stay at home parents who’ve been away from the traditional workforce for years, my wife and I don’t have a large network of parents who have kids at XYZ preschool who can vouch for us. As a result, we are at a large disadvantage simply because not enough of the community knows who we are.

One can easily imagine a colleague or a manager on the board of a preschool who provides a fellow colleague an in. That’s just the way the world works. We take care of people who know and like. Being away from networking activities for seven years is likely going to hurt us.

2) We have low-level jobs. On our application, I say I’m an assistant high school tennis coach (not even the head coach) and a stay at home dad. My wife says says she’s a freelance writer and a stay at home mom. We don’t ever say we run Financial Samurai due to our desire for privacy.

I think being a stay at home parent is an extremely important job, but we can’t compete with parents who are executives at a hot startup or partners in venture capital, private equity, or investment banking. I swear all the parents who attended the open houses we went to worked in these fields.

Society does not appreciate creatives as much as they appreciate high powered money making occupations. If society did, it wouldn’t push our artists, writers, poets, and teachers out of the city. 

From the school’s perspective, they want parents who can be ambassadors of the school in their large networks and also be financial backers down the road. If you work in private equity, you will naturally have lots of rich friends who will have children and donate big bucks down the road.

If you’re an assistant high school tennis coach who makes $1,200 a month like I do, your circle of friends probably isn’t going to be as desirable to the school.

And yes, I spent one month’s of coaching salary on preschool application fees.

3) We lead unconventional lifestyles with no recognition. It’s funny. I dislike fame. But you better believe that if I was famous in a good way, my son would have a huge leg up getting into schools. Do you really think any college would reject Malia Obama even if she had terrible grades and test scores? Of course not. Alas, we are nobodies.

The only thing we do is help people achieve financial freedom sooner in order to live their best lives possible. Helping people achieve financial security is nice, especially since we do so for free, but a school would rather have parents working conventional jobs at well-known companies. It’s part of the cachet, even if the employer is known to feature fake news and manipulate your private data.

The only reason I’d ever give up my privacy or lead a more conventional lifestyle is if I could help my son. And I’m not sure preschool is worth the price.

We really cherish being able to spend as much time as possible with our son as stay at home parents. But we recognize we will be viewed as misfits given less than 1% of households have two stay at home parents.

4) We do not come from a wealthy legacy family. I know many people in San Francisco who live in multi-million dollar mansions, but who have occupations that cannot afford such luxurious lifestyles. What’s going on is that multi-generational family money has allowed them to live a life of leisure.

For example, one family founded a newspaper and sold it for $660 million in the mid-1990s. Surely the $660 million has grown to over $1 billion today. By setting up multi-million dollar endowments at several schools (preschool, middle school, high school, college), their heirs get guaranteed entrance to these schools forever. Are the heirs bad people? Of course not. They’re just like everybody else, except with tremendous advantages.

We know that kids of legacy donors have a 70%+ acceptance rate at Harvard versus <6% for the overall admissions rate. We also know that many schools of similar stature conduct similar practices for the wealthy and powerful. This is the way the world works, and the rest of us have no choice but to compete with what we have.

5) We are not part of the majority. Schools without racial bias would generally reflect the overall racial makeup of the city e.g. a preschool shoild have a similar demographic makeup as San Francisco: 48% White, 33% Asian, 6% Black, 0.4% Pacific Islander, 0.5% Native American, 6.6% Other, and 4.7% Bi-racial or Multi-racial.

Unfortunately, based on the data we’ve read and what we’ve observed after visiting several preschools, about 75% of the student population is White versus 48% for the entire San Francisco population. A ~27% difference is statistically significant, which means something is up. 

Perhaps the huge discrepancy is because of legacy and family connections, which has carried on for generations. After all, these preschools are private, and it’s natural to take care of their own.

Although I belong to a private tennis club where the racial demographic is quite skewed like at many private preschools, I’m not sure we want our son growing up in such a homogenous environment. As a kid growing up overseas attending international schools, I found it wonderful to be immersed in so many different cultures.

When I entered the real world, it was much easier to assimilate and grow. 

See: How The Rich Get Richer: Competing In A Rigged Game

Just Got To Keep Trying

Whatever you do, know that the odds are stacked against you. You can either give up, or you can keep on going. I’ve always chosen the latter. As a parent now, I’ve got no other choice but to stay on the ball.

Of course I will always have fear of rejection. I fear the continuous rejection I’ve experienced will continue on with my son. And it hurts knowing that my son will one day be discriminated against and rejected like his old man was growing up.

But on the bright side, the difficulties I went through growing up helped make me who I am today. And frankly, I feel pretty darn good about my situation. It’s healthy to sometimes get told you’re not good enough so you develop a chip on your shoulder to prove your detractors wrong.

A part of me hopes we get rejected by the early start preschools we applied to for 2019 so that we can go on a great adventure and travel the world again.

How amazing would it be to relocate to Honolulu this summer and enjoy the islands until the fall of 2020 when he’s eligible for a larger number of preschools at 3.5 years old? There’s always a bright side in everything. 

If you’re a parent in a big city applying to a top preschool, let me leave you with some following thoughts:

* Get on the ball and apply early since you will eventually have to apply. Make sure you meet every deadline and send follow up letters to show your continued interest. Schools want to hear about the progress of your little one. The latest you can usually apply is the fall before your kid is planning on attending.

* It’s worth building relationships with parents who have kids attending your target preschools or board members of your target preschools. Worst case, you’ll make some friends or know you don’t want to be part of their community.

* Attend all recommended “get to know you and the school” events. These include lunches, dinners, fundraisers, etc.

* Create a picture collage and tell your story. Don’t just upload one picture in the application, make a collage of pictures that show progression over time. Preschools want to have a good community of parents they can rely on to be good ambassadors and available volunteers.

* Attending an “elite preschool” might worsen your chances of getting into a good grade school program. Therefore, look to diversify. It’s not the end all be all if you don’t get into the top-rated preschool.

* So long as the preschool has a good reputation, has a good teacher:student ratio, and has involved parents, it should be good enough. Don’t underestimate the value of proximity either.

* Consider parent co-op preschools, public preschool if you qualify, or for-profit education systems like Gymboree that accept everyone.

Apologies if this post has raised the anxiety level of some parents who might not have thought about the preschool application process in such detail. I just like to write out my thoughts because I’m thorough.

At the end of the day, we’re only applying to preschool, so don’t sweat it! I just thought it’d be fun to chronicle this journey.

The most important things we can provide our children are love, time, and attention. Besides, the internet has democratized learning and opportunity.

Here’s to the excitement of the great unknown!

Related:

How To Stop Worrying About Your Child’s Future In This Brutally Competitive World

Why Households Need To Earn $300,000 A Year To Live In A Middle Class Lifestyle Today

Is Private Grade School K-8 Worth It?

What If You Go To Harvard And End Up A Nobody?

Readers, have any of you gone through a similarly rigorous process of applying to preschool for your children because there was too much demand and not enough schools? Do you think schools should refund the application fee, or at least part of it, if your kid is not accepted? Why don’t preschools want more racial and socioeconomic diversity? Do you think highlighting Financial Samurai would be helpful since we don’t have full-time jobs?

The post Navigating The Preschool Admissions Process: Getting In And $1,000 Application Fees appeared first on Financial Samurai.

from Finance https://www.financialsamurai.com/navigating-the-preschool-admissions-process/ via http://www.rssmix.com/

[ronaldmrashid]

Navigating The Preschool Admissions Process: Getting In And $1,000 Application Fees

When my wife was pregnant in late 2016, a friend told me, “You need to apply to preschool within the first three months after he’s born.“

He had one kid in private elementary school and two kids in private middle school. His is also a centimillionaire. 

“Absurd!” I responded.

“Hey, it’s up to you buddy. Getting into preschool in San Francisco is harder than getting into Princeton. Don’t let your lack of preparedness hurt your son’s chances for a bright future.“

Damn it. Guilt sets in.

“Well since you put it that way. I guess I’ll get on it. Want to give us a recommendation when he goes in 2019 or 2020?“

“Of course I will,” my friend replied as we resumed our tennis match.

This post is an introduction into how daunting it is for families living in big cities to get their kids into preschool. It should also give some sense as to why there’s so much anxiety among parents and children early on.

As someone who has questioned the necessity of paying for private grade school tuition, yet who also wants the best for his son, this post serves as a type of mental penance for going through this process. I’ve spent the last seven years trying to escape the grind, but somehow, I’m always getting pulled back in. 

I also hope this post brings joy to families who live in lower cost areas of the country who don’t have to worry about hyper competition due to a lack of supply. Living in a big city has its perks, but helping your child get a quality education is not one of them.

The Beginning Of The Preschool Grind

When it comes to getting your child into a top preschool in a big city, it’s all about who you know, rather than your child’s abilities. After all, your little one isn’t going to cure malaria at two or three years old.

The demand is so high simply because there aren’t enough schools. I heard through a board member at one preschool that 100 kids applied for the four spots available to non-sibling children. Siblings get automatic acceptance.

Since our boy is our first child, we have to blaze our own trail, Financial Samurai style, in order for him to get in anywhere. But we enjoy the challenge, partly because we like the excitement that uncertainty brings.

Given the average acceptance rate for the top-rated preschools is around 5%, the logical conclusion is to apply to 20 in order to get into one.

We didn’t go that far, but we did apply to eight preschools in San Francisco and one preschool in Honolulu. Three of the applications are for 2019 when he’s first eligible to attend at 2.5 years old. The remaining five applications are for 2020, when most preschools allow children to enroll.

Each application fee cost us between $80 – $150, or $1,000 total.

Since all preschools cost more or less the same in tuition, we figured we might as well apply to the top-rated ones. Surely you would do the same.

If our son gets rejected by all nine, then we will home school him. That doesn’t sound like a bad idea at all actually, since we have the time.

Why Our Chance Of Getting In Is Slim

I don’t remember the last time I felt like an idiot. Actually, maybe it was last summer when I didn’t sell my House Sale Fund portfolio when it was up 13%. Yeah, that was dumb to not take profits when it surpassed my 10% blue sky target.

But with this preschool stuff, I feel lost because I realize the odds are extremely stacked against my family and there’s really not much I can do to improve these odds. And to spend $1,000 on preschool applications alone leaves me with a funny feeling – like I’m a sucker.

Here are some of the reasons why I believe we’ve got little chance of getting our boy into a top-rated preschool. These reasons should help you appreciate what you have and question the choice of living an unconventional lifestyle.

1) We have a small network. As two stay at home parents who’ve been away from the traditional workforce for years, my wife and I don’t have a large network of parents who have kids at XYZ preschool who can vouch for us. As a result, we are at a large disadvantage simply because not enough of the community knows who we are.

One can easily imagine a colleague or a manager on the board of a preschool who provides a fellow colleague an in. That’s just the way the world works. We take care of people who know and like. Being away from networking activities for seven years is likely going to hurt us.

2) We have low-level jobs. On our application, I say I’m an assistant high school tennis coach (not even the head coach) and a stay at home dad. My wife says says she’s a freelance writer and a stay at home mom. We don’t ever say we run Financial Samurai due to our desire for privacy.

I think being a stay at home parent is an extremely important job, but we can’t compete with parents who are executives at a hot startup or partners in venture capital, private equity, or investment banking. I swear all the parents who attended the open houses we went to worked in these fields.

Society does not appreciate creatives as much as they appreciate high powered money making occupations. If society did, it wouldn’t push our artists, writers, poets, and teachers out of the city. 

From the school’s perspective, they want parents who can be ambassadors of the school in their large networks and also be financial backers down the road. If you work in private equity, you will naturally have lots of rich friends who will have children and donate big bucks down the road.

If you’re an assistant high school tennis coach who makes $1,200 a month like I do, your circle of friends probably isn’t going to be as desirable to the school.

And yes, I spent one month’s of coaching salary on preschool application fees.

3) We lead unconventional lifestyles with no recognition. It’s funny. I dislike fame. But you better believe that if I was famous in a good way, my son would have a huge leg up getting into schools. Do you really think any college would reject Malia Obama even if she had terrible grades and test scores? Of course not. Alas, we are nobodies.

The only thing we do is help people achieve financial freedom sooner in order to live their best lives possible. Helping people achieve financial security is nice, especially since we do so for free, but a school would rather have parents working conventional jobs at well-known companies. It’s part of the cachet, even if the employer is known to feature fake news and manipulate your private data.

The only reason I’d ever give up my privacy or lead a more conventional lifestyle is if I could help my son. And I’m not sure preschool is worth the price.

We really cherish being able to spend as much time as possible with our son as stay at home parents. But we recognize we will be viewed as misfits given less than 1% of households have two stay at home parents.

4) We do not come from a wealthy legacy family. I know many people in San Francisco who live in multi-million dollar mansions, but who have occupations that cannot afford such luxurious lifestyles. What’s going on is that multi-generational family money has allowed them to live a life of leisure.

For example, one family founded a newspaper and sold it for $660 million in the mid-1990s. Surely the $660 million has grown to over $1 billion today. By setting up multi-million dollar endowments at several schools (preschool, middle school, high school, college), their heirs get guaranteed entrance to these schools forever. Are the heirs bad people? Of course not. They’re just like everybody else, except with tremendous advantages.

We know that kids of legacy donors have a 70%+ acceptance rate at Harvard versus <6% for the overall admissions rate. We also know that many schools of similar stature conduct similar practices for the wealthy and powerful. This is the way the world works, and the rest of us have no choice but to compete with what we have.

5) We are not part of the majority. Schools without racial bias would generally reflect the overall racial makeup of the city e.g. a preschool would have a similar demographic makeup as San Francisco is 48% White, 33% Asian, 6% Black, 0.4% Pacific Islander, 0.5% Native American, 6.6% Other, and 4.7% Bi-racial or Multi-racial.

Unfortunately, based on the data we’ve read and what we’ve observed after visiting several preschools, about 75% of the student population is White versus 48% for the entire San Francisco population. A ~27% difference is statistically significant, which means something is up. 

Perhaps the huge discrepancy is because of legacy and family connections, which has carried on for generations. After all, these preschools are private, and it’s natural to take care of their own.

Although I belong to a private tennis club where the racial demographic is quite skewed like at many private preschools, I’m not sure we want our son growing up in such a homogenous environment. As a kid growing up overseas attending international schools, I found it wonderful to be immersed in so many different cultures.

When I entered the real world, it was much easier to assimilate and grow. 

See: How The Rich Get Richer: Competing In A Rigged Game

Just Got To Keep Trying

Whatever you do, know that the odds are stacked against you. You can either give up, or you can keep on going. I’ve always chosen the latter. As a parent now, I’ve got no other choice but to stay on the ball.

Of course I will always have fear of rejection. I fear the continuous rejection I’ve experienced will continue on with my son. And it hurts knowing that my son will one day be discriminated against and rejected like his old man was growing up.

But on the bright side, the difficulties I went through growing up helped make me who I am today. And frankly, I feel pretty darn good about my situation. It’s healthy to sometimes get told you’re not good enough so you develop a chip on your shoulder to prove your detractors wrong.

A part of me hopes we get rejected by the early start preschools we applied to for 2019 so that we can go on a great adventure and travel the world again.

How amazing would it be to relocate to Honolulu this summer and enjoy the islands until the fall of 2020 when he’s eligible for a larger number of preschools at 3.5 years old? There’s always a bright side in everything. 

If you’re a parent in a big city applying to a top preschool, let me leave you with some following thoughts:

* Get on the ball and apply early since you will eventually have to apply. Make sure you meet every deadline and send follow up letters to show your continued interest. Schools want to hear about the progress of your little one. The latest you can usually apply is the fall before your kid is planning on attending.

* It’s worth building relationships with parents who have kids attending your target preschools or board members of your target preschools. Worst case, you’ll make some friends or know you don’t want to be part of their community.

* Attend all recommended “get to know you and the school” events. These include lunches, dinners, fundraisers, etc.

* Create a picture collage and tell your story. Don’t just upload one picture in the application, make a collage of pictures that show progression over time. Preschools want to have a good community of parents they can rely on to be good ambassadors and available volunteers.

* Attending an “elite preschool” might worsen your chances of getting into a good grade school program. Therefore, look to diversify. It’s not the end all be all if you don’t get into the top-rated preschool.

* So long as the preschool has a good reputation, has a good teacher:student ratio, and has involved parents, it should be good enough. Don’t underestimate the value of proximity either.

Apologies if this post has raised the anxiety level of some parents who might not have thought about the preschool application process in such detail. I just like to write out my thoughts because I’m thorough. At the end of the day, we’re only applying to preschool, so don’t sweat it!

The most important things we can provide our children are love, time, and attention. Besides, the internet has democratized learning and opportunity.

Here’s to the excitement of the great unknown!

Related:

How To Stop Worrying About Your Child’s Future In This Brutally Competitive World

Why Households Need To Earn $300,000 A Year To Live In A Middle Class Lifestyle Today

Is Private Grade School K-8 Worth It?

What If You Go To Harvard And End Up A Nobody?

Readers, have any of you gone through a similarly rigorous process of applying to preschool for your children because there was too much demand and not enough schools? Do you think schools should refund the application fee, or at least part of it, if your kid is not accepted? Why don’t preschools want more racial and socioeconomic diversity? Do you think highlighting Financial Samurai would be helpful since we don’t have full-time jobs?

The post Navigating The Preschool Admissions Process: Getting In And $1,000 Application Fees appeared first on Financial Samurai.

from https://www.financialsamurai.com/navigating-the-preschool-admissions-process/

[mcjoelcain]

Navigating The Preschool Admissions Process: Getting In And $1,000 Application Fees

When my wife was pregnant in late 2016, a friend told me, “You need to apply to preschool within the first three months after he’s born.“

He had one kid in private elementary school and two kids in private middle school. His is also a centimillionaire. 

“Absurd!” I responded.

“Hey, it’s up to you buddy. Getting into preschool in San Francisco is harder than getting into Princeton. Don’t let your lack of preparedness hurt your son’s chances for a bright future.“

Damn it. Guilt sets in.

“Well since you put it that way. I guess I’ll get on it. Want to give us a recommendation when he goes in 2019 or 2020?“

“Of course I will,” my friend replied as we resumed our tennis match.

This post is an introduction into how daunting it is for families living in big cities to get their kids into preschool. It should also give some sense as to why there’s so much anxiety among parents and children early on.

As someone who has questioned the necessity of paying for private grade school tuition, yet who also wants the best for his son, this post serves as a type of mental penance for going through this process. I’ve spent the last seven years trying to escape the grind, but somehow, I’m always getting pulled back in. 

I also hope this post brings joy to families who live in lower cost areas of the country who don’t have to worry about hyper competition due to a lack of supply. Living in a big city has its perks, but helping your child get a quality education is not one of them.

The Beginning Of The Preschool Grind

When it comes to getting your child into a top preschool in a big city, it’s all about who you know, rather than your child’s abilities. After all, your little one isn’t going to cure malaria at two or three years old.

The demand is so high simply because there aren’t enough schools. I heard through a board member at one preschool that 100 kids applied for the four spots available to non-sibling children. Siblings get automatic acceptance.

Since our boy is our first child, we have to blaze our own trail, Financial Samurai style, in order for him to get in anywhere. But we enjoy the challenge, partly because we like the excitement that uncertainty brings.

Given the average acceptance rate for the top-rated preschools is around 5%, the logical conclusion is to apply to 20 in order to get into one.

We didn’t go that far, but we did apply to eight preschools in San Francisco and one preschool in Honolulu. Three of the applications are for 2019 when he’s first eligible to attend at 2.5 years old. The remaining five applications are for 2020, when most preschools allow children to enroll.

Each application fee cost us between $80 – $150, or $1,000 total.

Since all preschools cost more or less the same in tuition, we figured we might as well apply to the top-rated ones. Surely you would do the same.

If our son gets rejected by all nine, then we will home school him. That doesn’t sound like a bad idea at all actually, since we have the time.

Why Our Chance Of Getting In Is Slim

I don’t remember the last time I felt like an idiot. Actually, maybe it was last summer when I didn’t sell my House Sale Fund portfolio when it was up 13%. Yeah, that was dumb to not take profits when it surpassed my 10% blue sky target.

But with this preschool stuff, I feel lost because I realize the odds are extremely stacked against my family and there’s really not much I can do to improve these odds. And to spend $1,000 on preschool applications alone leaves me with a funny feeling – like I’m a sucker.

Here are some of the reasons why I believe we’ve got little chance of getting our boy into a top-rated preschool. These reasons should help you appreciate what you have and question the choice of living an unconventional lifestyle.

1) We have a small network. As two stay at home parents who’ve been away from the traditional workforce for years, my wife and I don’t have a large network of parents who have kids at XYZ preschool who can vouch for us. As a result, we are at a large disadvantage simply because not enough of the community knows who we are.

One can easily imagine a colleague or a manager on the board of a preschool who provides a fellow colleague an in. That’s just the way the world works. We take care of people who know and like. Being away from networking activities for seven years is likely going to hurt us.

2) We have low-level jobs. On our application, I say I’m an assistant high school tennis coach (not even the head coach) and a stay at home dad. My wife says says she’s a freelance writer and a stay at home mom. We don’t ever say we run Financial Samurai due to our desire for privacy.

I think being a stay at home parent is an extremely important job, but we can’t compete with parents who are executives at a hot startup or partners in venture capital, private equity, or investment banking. I swear all the parents who attended the open houses we went to worked in these fields.

Society does not appreciate creatives as much as they appreciate high powered money making occupations. If society did, it wouldn’t push our artists, writers, poets, and teachers out of the city. 

From the school’s perspective, they want parents who can be ambassadors of the school in their large networks and also be financial backers down the road. If you work in private equity, you will naturally have lots of rich friends who will have children and donate big bucks down the road.

If you’re an assistant high school tennis coach who makes $1,200 a month like I do, your circle of friends probably isn’t going to be as desirable to the school.

And yes, I spent one month’s of coaching salary on preschool application fees.

3) We lead unconventional lifestyles with no recognition. It’s funny. I dislike fame. But you better believe that if I was famous in a good way, my son would have a huge leg up getting into schools. Do you really think any college would reject Malia Obama even if she had terrible grades and test scores? Of course not. Alas, we are nobodies.

The only thing we do is help people achieve financial freedom sooner in order to live their best lives possible. Helping people achieve financial security is nice, especially since we do so for free, but a school would rather have parents working conventional jobs at well-known companies. It’s part of the cachet, even if the employer is known to feature fake news and manipulate your private data.

The only reason I’d ever give up my privacy or lead a more conventional lifestyle is if I could help my son. And I’m not sure preschool is worth the price.

We really cherish being able to spend as much time as possible with our son as stay at home parents. But we recognize we will be viewed as misfits given less than 1% of households have two stay at home parents.

4) We do not come from a wealthy legacy family. I know many people in San Francisco who live in multi-million dollar mansions, but who have occupations that cannot afford such luxurious lifestyles. What’s going on is that multi-generational family money has allowed them to live a life of leisure.

For example, one family founded a newspaper and sold it for $660 million in the mid-1990s. Surely the $660 million has grown to over $1 billion today. By setting up multi-million dollar endowments at several schools (preschool, middle school, high school, college), their heirs get guaranteed entrance to these schools forever. Are the heirs bad people? Of course not. They’re just like everybody else, except with tremendous advantages.

We know that kids of legacy donors have a 70%+ acceptance rate at Harvard versus <6% for the overall admissions rate. We also know that many schools of similar stature conduct similar practices for the wealthy and powerful. This is the way the world works, and the rest of us have no choice but to compete with what we have.

5) We are not part of the majority. Schools without racial bias would generally reflect the overall racial makeup of the city e.g. a preschool would have a similar demographic makeup as San Francisco is 48% White, 33% Asian, 6% Black, 0.4% Pacific Islander, 0.5% Native American, 6.6% Other, and 4.7% Bi-racial or Multi-racial.

Unfortunately, based on the data we’ve read and what we’ve observed after visiting several preschools, about 75% of the student population is White versus 48% for the entire San Francisco population. A ~27% difference is statistically significant, which means something is up. 

Perhaps the huge discrepancy is because of legacy and family connections, which has carried on for generations. After all, these preschools are private, and it’s natural to take care of their own.

Although I belong to a private tennis club where the racial demographic is quite skewed like at many private preschools, I’m not sure we want our son growing up in such a homogenous environment. As a kid growing up overseas attending international schools, I found it wonderful to be immersed in so many different cultures.

When I entered the real world, it was much easier to assimilate and grow. 

See: How The Rich Get Richer: Competing In A Rigged Game

Just Got To Keep Trying

Whatever you do, know that the odds are stacked against you. You can either give up, or you can keep on going. I’ve always chosen the latter. As a parent now, I’ve got no other choice but to stay on the ball.

Of course I will always have fear of rejection. I fear the continuous rejection I’ve experienced will continue on with my son. And it hurts knowing that my son will one day be discriminated against and rejected like his old man was growing up.

But on the bright side, the difficulties I went through growing up helped make me who I am today. And frankly, I feel pretty darn good about my situation. It’s healthy to sometimes get told you’re not good enough so you develop a chip on your shoulder to prove your detractors wrong.

A part of me hopes we get rejected by the early start preschools we applied to for 2019 so that we can go on a great adventure and travel the world again.

How amazing would it be to relocate to Honolulu this summer and enjoy the islands until the fall of 2020 when he’s eligible for a larger number of preschools at 3.5 years old? There’s always a bright side in everything. 

If you’re a parent in a big city applying to a top preschool, let me leave you with some following thoughts:

* Get on the ball and apply early since you will eventually have to apply. Make sure you meet every deadline and send follow up letters to show your continued interest. Schools want to hear about the progress of your little one. The latest you can usually apply is the fall before your kid is planning on attending.

* It’s worth building relationships with parents who have kids attending your target preschools or board members of your target preschools. Worst case, you’ll make some friends or know you don’t want to be part of their community.

* Attend all recommended “get to know you and the school” events. These include lunches, dinners, fundraisers, etc.

* Create a picture collage and tell your story. Don’t just upload one picture in the application, make a collage of pictures that show progression over time. Preschools want to have a good community of parents they can rely on to be good ambassadors and available volunteers.

* Attending an “elite preschool” might worsen your chances of getting into a good grade school program. Therefore, look to diversify. It’s not the end all be all if you don’t get into the top-rated preschool.

* So long as the preschool has a good reputation, has a good teacher:student ratio, and has involved parents, it should be good enough. Don’t underestimate the value of proximity either.

Apologies if this post has raised the anxiety level of some parents who might not have thought about the preschool application process in such detail. I just like to write out my thoughts because I’m thorough. At the end of the day, we’re only applying to preschool, so don’t sweat it!

The most important things we can provide our children are love, time, and attention. Besides, the internet has democratized learning and opportunity.

Here’s to the excitement of the great unknown!

Related:

How To Stop Worrying About Your Child’s Future In This Brutally Competitive World

Why Households Need To Earn $300,000 A Year To Live In A Middle Class Lifestyle Today

Is Private Grade School K-8 Worth It?

What If You Go To Harvard And End Up A Nobody?

Readers, have any of you gone through a similarly rigorous process of applying to preschool for your children because there was too much demand and not enough schools? Do you think schools should refund the application fee, or at least part of it, if your kid is not accepted? Why don’t preschools want more racial and socioeconomic diversity? Do you think highlighting Financial Samurai would be helpful since we don’t have full-time jobs?

The post Navigating The Preschool Admissions Process: Getting In And $1,000 Application Fees appeared first on Financial Samurai.

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[wordsforyouonly]

3:23 am

Sometimes all I want to do at night is lie down and tell you every detail of my day to excruciating detail and the conversations I have with you when you’re not there. I can picture myself saying: then I smeared the butter over the waffle but only five holes were covered. So then I smeared some more and covered four more. Then some more and covered five more. And then I realized that almost all of the holes on the outer edge were still empty. I can’t eat a waffle unless I fill every hole with butter. So, I got some more butter and slowly made my way around the edge- turning the waffle like I was a record player and it was my record. Then by the time all the holes were filled, I realized that I had used an unhealthy amount of butter and was about to lather that waffle in syrup that was some second-rate organic one that I bought in the store. It’s not Sprague’s. Anyway what does that mean: organic maple syrup? But I used it because who eats waffles without syrup. Well, you do. I remember the first time I bought you waffles and peanut butter because you had told me how much you loved eating them growing up. I bought Eggo waffles thinking that was what you’d like because it was name-brand, and when you told me you didn’t like Eggo I felt like a failure. I racked my memories of you to try and figure out if you had told me you didn’t like Eggos, but I couldn’t remember you saying that. Still you ate the waffle. You were always so sweet like that- doing things because you knew it made me happy. I swear that’s what I was trying to do too. I think you were just better at executing it than I was. Somehow my plans to make you happy always ended up falling flat or getting messed up or getting buried by my own frustrations. I’m sorry. I wonder if someone will ever know things about me without me telling them, the way you knew. I never had someone watch me so closely... pay attention to every one of my details. I was always the meticulous one. I think that’s why I always felt closer to people than they felt to me. Or maybe it was that they felt closer to me than they really were. Because I knew them. Studied them. I remember the first time we went to Toms River Diner, and I ordered a tea. I asked you to hand me two sugar packets and you handed me three- like that Kate Nash song. And before I could say anything, you said: I know that you really wanted three. You always use three. And I didn’t have to tell you that I put three sugars in my tea because three is my favorite number and also because two just isn’t sweet enough but four is too sweet for a tiny cup of tea. And by the time I choked down the tears of love that had been forming and concealed the smile that I had, you were handing me a creamer. I only used half because a whole one gives me a tummy ache. But sometimes I poured the whole thing in because I felt bad wasting half of it. I miss those diner dates. I used to feel like we never went on dates, but I think that’s because everything we did was and wasn’t a date at the same time. I wish more than anything that we could go on one of our not-dates again. I could really use a 3am walk through the city right now to find some air and give me an excuse to feel lost. The waffles I made were Van’s blueberry gluten-free waffles. Do you remember those? You probably do because you have such a good memory. You used to get so mad at me and say “I wish I had a tape recorder so I could prove you wrong.” We were so funny. An old, married couple at 20. I loved it. There was something so romantic about the idea of us having the same little tiffs 30 years down the road. Gosh, we really did know how to push each other’s buttons. I pushed yours, admittedly, more often than you pushed mine. I think that’s a character flaw of mine. I’m too interested in the ethnography of existing- doing things just to see how people react and respond. What better way to learn someone? But still I wish I hadn’t pushed so many buttons. I’m sorry. Sometimes, late at night when I realize you aren’t coming back, I wonder if someone will ever want to know my details. Or, better yet, put in the work to find them themselves. I don’t know that I have details to give anymore. I feel like a coloring book with all of the colors washed out and most of the pages stained with black. I’m lost in the pages somewhere, and I feel like you’re the only person who could find me because you essentially drew the map of me. What is it like to learn someone else’s details? What is it like to want to? Those are questions I wish I could ask you right now. You always had an answer for me, even when you didn't. I loved that about you. You always indulged in my ridiculousness. My talkative nights. My questions. My existential crises. I think we had the same conversations about religion and raising our children over and over again. Mostly on Route 70. I think because that road always made me feel like we were driving to our future together. When I had a bad week at school or my boots were especially heavy, I would imagine that you, me, and the cats were running away. Route 70 suddenly turned into Route 66, and we were just never coming back. But we always came back. And you went and forced yourself to work a job that made you stressed out to tears, just to earn enough money to pay for our weekly groceries and travel expenses. I’m sorry. I spent so much time telling other people how amazing you are and how grateful I was that I didn’t tell you enough. You told me recently that coming home to me made all of that worth it. I know you meant it because you used to tell me that all the time. I tried so hard to ease the burden from you, and I took advantage of you being so understanding- knowing that working the way you did would surely send me spiraling into another episode. And I know you would have done anything to avoid one of those. We wouldn’t survive another one. I suppose you’re thankful that you will never have to try to. I’m so sorry. I’ve been waiting for the day when I feel relief. Just one day. It hasn’t come. Distractions don’t work as well as they used to, and if something doesn’t remind me of you it reminds me that I wish I could share it with you but can’t. Matt quoted to me: it’s better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all. I wish I could ask you if you believed that. You’d probably say yes because you’re yellow and that is such a yellow question. I wonder if you would know what I mean by that. I believe in that selectively. I think, yes, in most cases it is better to have loved and lost, but what about the person who you think you’re absolutely meant to be with forever? Maybe for you that’s her. Is it worth it then... to have loved and lost? For me, I still don’t know the answer, and most days I’ll say no. It’s selfish, but most days I would rather have not known you at all because I can’t help but look for you in every person I see or compare you with every person I meet. It’s like finding the perfect wedding dress and when you go to pick it up it’s not there. Or, I guess I imagine it’s like finding the perfect wedding dress. You’re only supposed to have one wedding dress in your whole life. Losing your person makes you feel like there’s no point to anything anymore because your greatest days have already come and gone. No wonder older people have died of broken hearts once their spouse passes. I think the same thing happened to me, but the rest of my body didn’t get the memo. Living-dead has a whole new meaning. I always felt like I wasn’t good enough for you. So, it comes as no surprise that once the shock settled I stopped trying to convince you to stay. Or come back. But I was blessed to be able to call you mine, even for the short moment in our lives. I can imagine you giving me a funny look because I used the word “blessed.” It’s not a word I use very often. Ever in fact. Originally I said “lucky” but that didn’t feel right. One day you’re going to pass the seven-year mark with someone, and you’ll finally feel like you made it. Then you’ll hit the 14-year mark, and then the 30-year. By the time our time on this Earth comes to a close, I’ll just be a word on your pages. I wonder what word I’ll be. I think I’d like to be “home.” You’re always safe with me. 

And by the time you’d fall asleep, I will have only covered five minutes of my day. I made a waffle. But it was more than just a waffle. 

[keyofshadows]

Mostly out of context and in no particular order.

Someone tell Henry to stop turning into Sora. Also Wendy is making me think of Namine. So who does that make Pan? Wait, Marluxia!

I keep wanting to cry happy tears and hug chibi Sora into little bits and this has Maya and Kai all upset- well, Maya's squeaking at Sora's cuteness and kinda spazzing over 'Can you imagine if Kai HAD been Riku's son' and we're not getting into that mess and Kai's just mostly upset because he misses his family damn it, even if he has friends where he is and a kid brother.

And hi, rambling because FEELS.

AUUUGH.

I've gone weird again.

Ahahaha, and the bad ideas keep coming. I wrote out a thing for the mods seeking permission for Heartless-related stuff. Haven't sent it yet 'cause I might be sane come morning. That and Kai's borderline freaking out. Something about not wanting his mother's past to be his future. Maybe I really just want an excuse to have a weird AU KH/WR crossover where Ray kicks his ass for training Shadows as minions.

Meanwhile Eli and Fen just sit on the sidelines and snicker.

I wanna go home and laugh at the trouble Kai's gotten into. Or not. I giggled earlier and was exhausted for 20 mins. But still, Kai just found out he's fucking with a 3,000 yr old spirit born of darkness. Somehow this is not phasing him as much as it should. He's either very much his mother's son (with all the issues that entails) or Riku and Sora rubbed off on him. Or he really IS Riku's, but Maya can dream. It's better than the truth, anyway.

Random 1 am thought: Eli as a kid, boasting to all his friends that he was kidnapped by an evil faerie before he was a year old and turned into a kitten.

"And she replaced me with a fake baby that turned inta sticks when my mama blew out my birthday candle! Isn't that NEAT?"

Amy: /facepalm Lanie: /jealous

"How come Eli gets ta do all the fun things?"

Eli: /smiiiirk

So I got this started during a low-pain point in my migraine, and Eli can't stop snickering. Despite the migraine Kai's post got me thinking. 'The last time...' in reference to wishing his dad was there. 'The last time he'd built a snow fort like this, it'd been in Christmas Town. His uncle had taken him and his dad to see Santa, when Kai was on the edge of not believing anymore. He was, after all, seven. His mom had stayed home, insisting she'd not only get a stocking full of coal, but would probably find herself buried under it.'

And she would've, too.

When someone introduces themselves as serving under a king, it's appropriate to use 'Keyblade wielder' after your own name, yes? Yes. Inwardly Kai's just like '.....fuuuuuck.' This was not how he wanted to become known to Henry. 'Yeah, I kinda adopted your adopted son as my kid brother, I swear I'm not a bad influence on him and I'm so sorry I attacked your knight unprovoked. Please don't have me executed.'

Newsflash: Kai doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut.

'They're kind of cute when they're not trying to eat your face.' - Best description of Shadows ever.

OMG it's so cold in this house why do I not know Firaga. Or where my gloves are. Or my scarf. Or hat. Assuming there's any money left next month I'm buying socks. I have...five pairs of socks? That don't have holes. And I'm not sure where three of them are. I'm wearing one and the other is...in my dresser. I think. Lol I'm totally on top of where my stuff is. This is why cleaning my room is bad. I can find my floor but nothing else. Ever. This'll be Eli someday. Only able to find things when they're strewn across his room. And he'll like it that way! "But mom, all great warriors have messy rooms! Uncle Sora told me so!" And you KNOW Larkin'll be the only one that can make him clean it properly. Threats and bribes. Though both may be the same thing.

Right in the middle of one of Xehanort's speeches and I got a migraine. I'm kinda disappointed.

Re: OUAT and hearts - DUDE HOW DOES THAT EVEN WORK and Hello WR flashbacks. Also re: next week's ep and swords being present at a baby's birth - Yes, I imagine Jalen was armed when Eli was born.

That random idea I had a few days ago involves what Awiergan's supposed to be doing, you know, hunting down Mal's nobody and knifing her. She's certainly had prime opportunities to do it, what with her current masquerade. Amy and Jalen's wedding anniversary is the 5th this month, and I wanted Amy to be back to herself by then, however temporary. THEN I thought, hey, what if Awiergan went out, found the nobody, brutally killed her, and let Amy watch? The shock of that would be enough to let Amy push the Brat back under, and she could come home covered in blood freaking out. To who, I dunno yet. But hey, happy anniversary!

Um, what was the original plan for the Cornerstone of Darkness? And I vote we destroy Disney Castle. As in the whole world. Dunno what exactly that'd mean for the Cornerstone of Light, but hey. The one place everyone trusts to always be a refuge against the Darkness going bye-bye? Always a good time! *whacks Awiergan*

Eli insists on a new tradition = New Year's Day Bug Hunts. Every New Year starting from age 8, he's gonna spend the day looking for the weirdest, most colorful bugs he can find. He demands that Larkin accompany him and carry his jars. >>; I do not see that ending well for him. "I only asked her to carry seven jars! An' then she dropped 'em! Down a hill! WITH MY BUGS IN 'EM. THEY ROLLED INTO THE POND AND 'MOST DROWNED!"

...The last time I had a *really* awesome and entertaining idea, it was a plague that wiped out two-thirds of Hogwarts.

This kid is gonna be in so much trouble. Eli: "....Aunt Song, Larkin won't stop followin' me! She says she's gotta protect me from Heartless!" Amy: *snickers forever* "Good luck with that. This is why we don't pretend that Igor is real sweetie~"

I decided Lanie gets to learn magic from Ray too, because she'll need to help keep her brother in line. God forbid her best spell turns out to be Thunder.

Yay babies. Oh god, a three year old and a newborn why did I do this to Amy oh wait. *cackle*

I had this cute little dream where Auryn wakes up crying (He's like a week old) and Eli gets to him first, and is trying to calm him down so he doesn't wake Larkin 'cause she needs her rest, and god forbid his mom, 'cause he'll never get to hold his son again. *snicker* He finally gets the kid to pass out by putting Igor in the crib by Auryn's feet, then makes the comment, "Yeah, he was my favorite too."

Hahaha so adorable and sappy and damn it, men should not be attractive when wounded. (And this is where Jalen's eyebrows go into his hair because what conversations has he been missing)

And then there was that time that healing magic was backfiring and Jalen was stupid and fell off the bailey wall and broke his wrist, and instead of his wife going 'Oh, my Jale!' and cuddling him silly, she whacked him upside the head, gave him a lecture, and teased him for a week. *snort* But then, they have an weird relationship that'll be sure to amuse their children for years to come. Hell, it's amusing FEN.

Ahahaha. I love how Kai is all '.....How do I explain this?' Because apparently he was taught the honor thing but not exactly the why of it? Or he's just a dork. Let's go with that. Eli says that girls can take care of themselves, but you should at least make the attempt unless you want to get beat up. Speaking from eventual experience, no doubt. Also I love how that last sentence makes no and yet all the sense.

I've always sympathized with the villains. Maleficent was the first. I was four. *shifty eyes* I was a weird kid.

The game I've got Kai in is getting an expansion. The school's going to be revealed to be on an island. I'm happy. Kai on the other hand, not so much. Reminders of not-home and places he'd been with 'Jem, which are probably gonna lead to him hitting things with his Keyblade. Especially once he finds his Corridors STILL can't get him away from the damn place.

Suppose Kai could always just try and use his Keyblade to chop 'em up...and this is for a bonfire, actually, though I did think him trying to make a raft in an attempt to leave the island would be all sorts of funny and history sorta/not really repeating itself, but I gotta get mod permission for that first and I'll just shut up now.

Yay, they have access to the beach now. And someone else decided to try a raft, which I'm actually glad about. >_> Kai will instead make an idiot of himself trying to catch fish. And the 'here fishy fishy' is a ridiculous inside joke from the old game that I couldn't resist using even though no one will get it. Riku had a net and was out tromping through the shallow water on Destiny Islands, trying to catch dinner for himself, Sora, and Kairi. He finally managed, but he burned dinner afterward. *snerk*

Oops. Kai wants to know what the fuck I just got him into. *cackles madly* Hell if I know. I've got Eli on the sidelines lecturing him on Darkness. And Fen pointing out he should consider himself lucky he's never met Ray. *facepalm*

Yeah, so if the wyvern doesn't kill Kai, he's gonna take Eli's advice and call him Yen Sid. ...My muses should not be allowed to interact sometimes. Also now I've got Jalen snickering because hmm, who did he know that had problems with a wyvern? *facepalms forever*

Re: 'Driel - And why doesn't this kid have fear? She's a nine year old on her own in a strange place, and they had a 3-4 day blackout already, but she's just...peachy. Lonely for her family, sure, but she's met a 700 year old faerie that shifts into a wolf, a boy that's possessed by a 3,000 yr old malevolent spirit, a king from the 15th century, and now friggin' Death, and she's just hunky dory. This IS a good thing, yes?

IT'S LARKIN AND ELI LMAO Today, I was hanging out with a guy I like. We climbed a tree to watch the sunset, and as the sun went down, I kissed him. He fell out of the tree. FML