#anyway I am going to make my older class keep dance journals I think

[curiosity-killed]

I’m over here actually making fully fleshed out lesson plans rn while also internally screaming what do u MEAN I have to wait THREE (3) (three) full weeks before classes start

[twoidiotwriters1]

Pureblood 14 (Sirius Black x F!Oc)

Words: 2,576

Warnings: Violence/ Torture

Masterlist: 

Chapter 13 // Chapter 15

‘Dear Remus:

The Christmas party wasn't as disastrous as I thought it would be, but it wasn't much fun either. I hope you’ve had something better.

Anyway, what I really wanted to tell you is the progress of the plan:

Regulus and Jenna heard my father talked about a minister who will marry us as soon as we graduate, he’s supposed to be a great friend of the family, although I never met him. The ceremony will be different from that of my older brothers. The men talked about a future change in the wizarding world. May have to do with what happened to me in the summer, I still don’t know the details, but the fact is that they’re in a hurry to get us married and unite the families.

The women talked about a huge dance where only the most important families are invited. I thought that with the Christmas party, all the presentations would end, but I was wrong. Jenna heard that even the Potters are invited.

I don't know which news makes me more nervous.

It's all we could get, I don't know what it can do, but I'm confident you can come up with something huge and cool– by the way, did you like the gift I sent you? I was planning to go buy that book myself in a Muggle town near my home, but I had to send the house elf, I hope you like it.

Merry Christmas, Wolfie.

P.S x

 I put the letter in an envelope, walk to the window where Lif is, Jane and Apollo’s owl, I give her a snack and I give her the letter.

"With the Lupins, little Lif…” I pat her head and she flies off.

I decide to take a shower and change into a simple blue shirt and jeans. I leave my room and hear voices from the stairs.

"Enough Isis!"

"Who is Remus, my dear Juno?" Isis and Juno are at each end of the table. Juno looks furious, her face is red, unlike our older sister who has a huge smile. "Is anyone in love? You mention it too much in your journal…”

She says holding up a black notebook.

Wait a minute.

"Remus?" I ask drawing his attention. Juno bites her lip.

“It's not what it seems! It’s not Remus, Isis shouldn’t read my diary!”

"Did someone say Diary?" Balder comes to my side. Isis shares a look with our brother and throws the notebook at him, who catches him in the air and runs to the living room, Juno and Isis follow him and since I want to know what happens, I also run.

"I can't talk to him, I just can't, is too embarrassing," Balder recites in a high-pitched voice making us laugh. “What does Persephone have? I am much smarter than her– and interesting. I don’t get it!”

I turn to Juno and my smile disappears when I notice her watery eyes, and how she hugs herself.

"Hey, Bal, come on, that's private,” My brother ignores me and continues reading. "Balder!" My voice surprises him and he sees me raising an eyebrow. "I said enough is enough.”

"And what’ll you do about it, little sister?"

Suddenly the four of us are running around the house. Isis and Balder throw the notebook at each other while Juno and I try to catch up with them. And to our bad luck, they take advantage of coming of age to cast the spawn spell just as we’re about to catch them.

But after a moment I manage to jump on Balder's back and we both struggled to get the notebook. I pull his hair and he complains.

"You're a damn bloody monkey, Persephone!"

"Return the diary or I'll bite you, Ape,” I stretch and finally take the notebook, but I don't have time to celebrate since Balder loses his balance and we both fall to the ground.

Isis and Juno see us and the last one lets out a sigh of relief when she sees me with her diary. The tense moment is replaced by Balder's laughs, then followed by the girls, including me. Balder and I carefully get off the ground.

The laughter continues until I feel something go down my nose, I touch that part and my fingers are bloody. “Oh, great.”

"Classic, Persephone’s always the one who gets hurt," Isis snorts.

"Oh, this is my time to get in," says Jane walking towards us with a small briefcase in hand. "I heard laughter, I knew you would need my help," She gestures with her hand and guides me to a dining room chair. I sit down and she faces me, opens the briefcase and begins to heal my nose.

Isis and Balder start a conversation as if nothing had happened and go towards the living room, while Juno approaches us.

“Oh, yeah." I lift the notebook without looking at her as Jane takes my chin to wipe away the blood.

Juno takes it and hugs it against her chest. I thought that would be it and she would leave, but she just stands there. Jane and I share a look.

"Are you hurt, honey?" The blonde asks.

"Oh no... I just–" She watches me and suddenly her cheeks flush. Now I understand. I giggle.

"So do you like Remus?" I raise my eyebrows and Jane stops touching my face.

“Who's Remus?" Jane asks and Juno bites her lip.

"It's nobody. Please don't tell him,” She begs me and I laugh.

If I’m honest, thinking about Juno and Remus… I don't like that idea.

The last time I had a conversation with her, it was not kind at all, also, I don’t want Remus to be close to my disastrous family, he already has enough with me.

"I won't tell him, take it easy,” She nods and leaves.

Jane puts a little bandaid on my nose.

"Done, just be careful next time.”

"If there’s a next one, it’ll be worse, I assure you. Isis is right, whenever we play I get hurt– I broke my arm once and was only on the swings! Apollo and Balder decided it’d be a good idea to help me swing very high,” We both laugh.

"Can I ask you something?" She says.

“Sure?”

"You know that Remus guy,” I nod. "It's not to criticize you or tell you what to do, but don't you think it’d be good to help Juno with the boy?"

“No,” She raises her eyebrows.

"Just like that?”

“Yes," I think she expects something more. I roll my eyes. “Juno's not Remus’ type, they wouldn’t be a good couple.”

“Why're you so sure?" I sigh.

"Listen, I don't know what impression you have of Juno, here she’s always more serious and quiet, but at Hogwarts she’s different, everything worsened since... the accident in the summer." She shifts in her chair, obviously Apollo told her what happened.

“I don't know what’s going on in Juno's mind, I just know that they’re not good things and I’m not going to let those things happen to Remus. He’s…” I think about it for a few seconds and smile. “He’s become a good friend of mine and because of that, I want to protect him.”

"But Juno’s your sister?”

“All the more reason, I’m going to protect him from my own family. He doesn't need any more problems, Jane.” She finally sighs.

"Well, I'm not going to get into your business," I nod and suddenly she smiles. "Do you know who’s excited?" She lifts her blouse to expose her belly. “He's been kicking since he heard you.”

"Yes, this is scaring me, Jane," She laughs.

"If you don't come for your gifts, I'll keep them to myself!" I hear Isis scream. I don't wait any longer and run towards the huge Christmas tree where all the presents are.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

After life's most awkward family reunion, in which it seemed like I didn't exist, they finally let me go back to my room with my Christmas presents. I sit down on the floor in front of my bed and put them close to me.

The first is Regulus' gift, a beautiful necklace, apparently gold, I smile. The next one was from Remus, which I open with a lot of emotion, it’s a red notebook, really nice, I open it and I find a note on the first page.

‘Here you can write our progress with the classes... or you can use it as a journal, you can do whatever you want, but I wrote what we’ve done in the last weeks, I hope you like it.

RL.’

I keep going and laugh when I find his notes, warnings and some muggle jokes, obviously explained. He’s really sweet, I can see the details and the dedication he had in doing it.

The following gifts are from relatives, with some notes to wish me luck with my marriage, some people I don’t even know –I’m sure they only want to get a place at the wedding. I roll my eyes. The last one I open is a small navy blue box, I open it and I find a pretty simple necklace along with a circular charm. I check it everywhere, but there’s no note. I don't give it much thought, but I decide to put it around my neck.

“Persephone," a thick voice scares me, I look up meeting my father at the door frame. I shrink into my place.

"Y-Yes?" I can't help but stutter.

"I think it's time to talk, come with me,” He doesn't wait for an answer and leaves my room. I get up and follow him.

We both head to his study. Upon entering, he locks the door, then walks to his desk and leans in front of it.

I bite the inside of my cheek when I see the room, I remember that I was always afraid to come here, so I told my dad that he should always have the curtains open, so that more light could come in, which he did. But now the entire room is dark except for the center, which is lit by the dim light of three candles.

My hands sweat and tremble uncontrollably, I can hear my heartbeat. He just watches me quietly for a few minutes.

"You should know that your marriage to Sirius is not a punishment for what happened a few months ago," for the first time since I returned I dare to look him directly in the eye.

"That's not true," I say in a weak voice. I clear my throat. "If it wasn't one, you would’ve made the news next year or even when I was in seventh grade, why now?"

"Dear Persephone, it's not all about you,” I raise my eyebrows at his words. A smile appears on his face, but it’s not the same as when he knows of some mischief of mine. That look, those gestures he makes when he is doing business, when he knows that the other person has no way out.

"Isn't my wedding about me?" I say louder in a moment of bravery. "You don't have to lie– No, wait, you already did that.” He raises an eyebrow.

“It's the only way to unite the Black and Singh families."

"I have better ideas.” Shut up, please.

"Your wedding is not the end of the world,” He says raising his voice.

"It is for me. You're going to ruin my life and Sirius's. We both want to choose whether we want to do it or not,” He laughs now.

"Do you think I had a choice with your mother, nor did the Blacks have it?"

“That's no excuse for us not having a choice.”

"You don't understand anything, silly girl"

"I won’t marry Sirius.”

"Yes you will!" He’s fast and I back up until I hit the wall. “I will not allow you to ruin the family name because of your tantrums. We’re doing you a favor, given what happened in the summer and the constant rebellion of Sirius, it is time for someone to put you in your place!” My eyes tear up. "This is your time to remedy your cowardice.” He moves away a little. I’m surprised at his words.

"Cowardice? Not wanting to kill a Muggle family, is that what you call cowardice? ”

"They are infe-"

"They are not!" I interrupt before he continues with the same sermon as always. "That family was innocent, I was and you didn’t mind taking their lives!" The memories come quickly.

That day in which nothing was different, until my brother Apollo and Isis abandoned their routines with their family to arrive at our house late at night. I remember that my father called me and I went down to the living room, the furniture was not there and everything was lit by candles and the flames of the fireplace.

"What's going on?" I asked. My whole family was gathered in the center, their bodies are covered in black robes.

"I want you to come closer, daughter," Says my father, raising his arms. I get closer until I'm in front of him. His hands touch my shoulders.

"Unfortunately, the dark lord is in a great hurry to gather his people, and we can't wait for you to turn seventeen, darling," He touches my cheek.

“Dark Lord?”

"Finally there’s someone with courage to put an order in the magical world,” adds my mum.

"We will explain later, now you must do something for me, would you do it?" I nodded. "That's my girl,” suddenly another black figure comes out from behind my father.

"This is Bartemius Crouch Jr." The man comes up with a sinister smile and takes my hand.

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Singh," He says, then releases my hand and goes to a corner.

"Persephone, you must show Mr. Crouch that you’re worthy to be on the side of the Dark Lord."

"But... I- I don't- I don't know, dad," I say nervously.

"Don't worry, it's a simple thing, I'll be here.” Isis reaches out and holds out my wand. "Take it," I obey with my trembling hand.

Then they all stepped back to reveal three kneeling figures. My father guides me until I’m in front of them.

He holds up his wand and the cloth that covered their faces disappears. My breath cuts short and my eyes are wide, I try to back away, but my father avoids it by putting a hand on my lower back.

A man, a woman and an 8-year-old boy. The three wake up and when they notice the new location they begin to move, and try to speak, but the ties on their hands and feet and the cloth in their mouths prevent it.

"Crucio!" My father exclaims and the three of them screech in pain. The little boy is crying just like his mother.

I look at them with pure terror, what the fuck do they want me to do with them?

"What is this? Why are they here? Who are they, dad? ”

“Calm down, Persephone. This family–” He points out to them. “They are Muggles, do you remember what I have taught you about them?” I nod in  confusion. "Well, now you must show that we’re superior to them.”

“Wha– How?" My father stands behind me and whispers in my ear.

"Kill them.”

Taglist:

@treestarrrrrrrr @siriuslysirius1107 @thagreenmoon   @madmaiden2890 @bloodorangemoonlight   @ren-ela @avipshamitra​   @auroraawrites​  @findzelda @lizlil @siriusmuch @mey-rapp​ 

[everly-kindred]

Eve’s Diary - Entry #47

Synopsis: With Rose Grams released at school as the Hearty Party approaches, Eve’s week gets much busier! 

Words: 1,075

Date: 31st of January, 2027

Dear Diary, 

It has been a busy week, and now, thankfully, it’s the weekend! But I fear it may not get any less busy for me. For good reasons, though! 

I met some new friends! One of them is a girl named Hailey, who is actually one of the other first years I share a dorm with. I’d seen her about in the common rooms, but we hadn’t actually spoken until recently. She seems nice! I also met an older boy named Shaun briefly, and his white cat, Snowy. 

I finally had a success of sorts, also! In herbology, I managed to successfully plant mint, wolfsbane, wormwood /and/ nettle! I’ve gotten a bit better with plants, which makes me really happy, since it’s my best subject on paper at least! 

And then we had Defense Against the Dark Arts, which… I definitely had nightmares after that one. The professor brought a hag in, and we all talked about how hags like eating the flesh of children and stuff, and he let her walk around the class and she kind of stood over me and messed with my hat? I was petrified! Marigold tried to offer her hat up to the hag, but the hag sort of ignored her, I guess. Anyways, I ran out of that class as fast as I could, once Vikander unlocked the door, and went straight to my dorm! I figured, if I’m safe anywhere, it’s there… Maybe hags melt when they get sprayed by vinegar, like the wicked witch of the west? Was she the one that melted? Anyways, it’s nice to know at least that a lot of hags choose to have a more… uh… people friendly diet so they can sort of be a part of society. 

We had astrology, which I always have a hard time waking up for. Nora had to help me with the telescope because I kept getting distracted, and I swear I had that one song that goes, ‘catch a falling star and put it in your pocket, save it for a rainy day,’ stuck in my head the entire night. I would certainly love to catch stars like I dream about, of course, but yeah. 

We had a test in transfigurations and I… couldn’t answer even one question. I completely blanked. And now that I think about it, I think that was my first test at Hogwarts? So… I’ll need to figure out why I panicked and how to… not do that next time. And I heard in the older kids Transfigurations that Gallo borrowed Waldgrave’s wand and transfigured himself into a chicken!

This weeks Care of Magical Creatures was about pygmy puffs, so I got to bring Cornelius to class with me, which was really sweet. He’s been rolling around in fireplaces lately, I guess ‘cause it’s warm and maybe he likes the smell, but it’s made him look like a ball of soot! I’ve thought about giving him a bath and asking Bonnie to make his fur pink for Valentines, but… He seems so happy covered in soot, and it feels wrong to take that away from him. 

In Ghoul Studies, we talked about animal ghosts, how animals are companions and protect us in real life, and how our spirit guardians are manifested as our patronuses in their own animal forms. I wonder what my patronus will be… I wonder what it is /now/, because I know they can change as you change. 

We also had Dueling today, and played this game where we have to sneak up on someone and then they turn around and hex whoever they can spot, and the person we’re sneaking up on is called, ‘Grandma.’ Octavia Dechants was grandma, and she ended up getting into a duel with Bonnie, who made her scarf attack her and then turned her into a turtle. We had Magical Theory right after that, so I had to let Professor Reuter know she’d be late due to being transfigured, and he said she would’ve made a better peacock or something like that…

The most exciting news, though, is that the Owl Post finally opened up Rose Grams and Cupid’s Corner! I put in requests to send them to all of my friends, and then I started delivering them! I also delivered a bouquet of them and a plate of biscuits to the professor’s lounge with a note I had written, because I wanted to send grams to a lot of professors and thought that would be easier. Gallo helped me and let me into the lounge so I could do it! It looked really interesting in there. I did something similar for Cupid’s Corner for my friends - wrote a message for no one in specific, just from me to my friends, because there’s… So many of them! Which is so nice to say! 

Also, mum sent me a little enchanted stuffed rabbit with wings and a cupid’s bow and arrows, and he floats over my shoulder while I make deliveries. I’ve put on my most festive outfit for the occasion! 

I talked to Aures a bit, when I went to deliver her rose gram, and we talked about romance. I told her my mom had said I was a ‘hopeless romantic’ and that means I’m in love with love (I guess?) and Aures said she’d have to tell me about her parents, and then she… Well she mentioned that it’ll make things exciting when you can go to the Hearty Party with someone special, which… I suppose I /have/ daydreamed plenty of times about such things, but living at home with my parents for so long, I never thought it would actually be possible! And now it is I guess? Which is both exciting and scary.

I told Aures that I’d probably just wait and see if someone asks me, but not stress it either way, and that we could dance together when the Hearty Party comes. She said that if she asks someone, she’ll have gone to the dance all three ways - alone, having been asked by someone, and then having asked someone. And I told her if someone asked me, I could say the same! 

I’m not sure if anyone will ask me, though. Who knows. I don’t, for now, anyways. My dreams haven’t hinted at anything. Only time will tell! 

It is very late, so I suppose I shall go to bed now. 

Much love, Everly

About the Character: Everlina Rosemary Kindred is an imaginative Hufflepuff attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She keeps up with her magical journey through a series of diary entries, dream journals, and tarot readings, all documented for future reflection. Her diary is a small glimpse into her enchanted life, and her adventure into the wizarding world and all its splendors. If you’d like more information about Eve, visit her wiki page. 

About the Author: My name is Katherine! I am a 22-year-old Hufflepuff & Pukwudgie from Louisville, Kentucky. This page is my creative journey into the magical world, through the lenses of Second Life. Here I post diary entries, dream journals, and tarot readings all from my character’s perspective. If you’d like more information about me, visit my Flickr! 

Outfit Credits:

Hair - [monso] My Hair - Gabriella

Glasses - .random.Matter. - Rose Glasses - Gold

Bandaid - m i z u ru -  nose bandage

Headband (flowers) - Mossu - Fleur.Wreath 

Headband (hearts) - Bowtique - Cupid Heart Headband (Pink)

Flower-crown - +Half-Deer+ Blossom Baby - Wildflower Crown - Mix

Scarf - FATEplay Scarf - Evans - Badger

Top - Stories&Co. Reverse Vneck - Heart 

Skirt - `M.BIRDIE / Merry look-skirtA1

Bouquet - Ariskea[amour]. Roses Bouquet Pink

Bunny - MishMish - Cupid Bunny / Chocolate Chip

[keeloves]

My Version of Girl Meets World

. 

This what I imagine for the Girls of Girl Meets World going. I even have personalities for them and more fleshed back out back grounds for these characters. For the Girl Characters, I have Riley Matthews, Melinda Hunter, Maya Hart, and Isadoara Smackle. The male characters are Jet Hunter, Farkle Minkus, Lucas Friar and Isaiah Babineaux. I am doing it this way for a few reasons, one Shawnangela gets together in my version and Angela got pregnant with Shawn’s twins before she left for Europe, two Riley and Smackle’s friendship means so much to me and I think it is absolutely beautiful and underrated and three this is just a concept of that really appealed to me and I love it! So without further a do here are are the characters backgrounds interests and well hobbies. Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think and please be respectful.

Girls of Girl Meets World

Riley Matthews: The oldest child to Cory and Topanga and older brother to Auggie Matthews she is to quote Shawn “Cory with Topanga’s hair”. She is really sweet and bubbly, very smart and loves her friends dearly. She suffers from self esteem issues and is very dramatic. She is a straight A student and her favorite subject is science. She enjoys school, hanging out with friends and loves writing and photography. After school activities for Riley, include environmental club, the school paper and gamer club

Melinda Hunter: Daughter of Shawn and Angela and twin sister to Jet. She is super girly, and she will constantly experiment with her hair. She will wear hair in various fashions much like her mother. She is a sweetheart but also knows how to be assertive and she doesn’t let people push her around which is something Riley struggles with and Melinda and Maya help with that Melinda has her own insecurities as well but hardly shows them. She even knows how to bring out the best in people like her brother Jet who she is very close with. She loves animals, fashion and is very much into journalism and art because she is very creative. Her favorite animal in particular are pigs and she even plans to get a pet pig and name him Little Jet much like her father who once had a Pet Pig and named him Little Cory. Her after school activities involve, environmental club, fashion club and photography. She is well organized and plans to run for school president. 

Maya Hart: Daughter to Katy Hart. Maya is very much a rebel and is a bit of slacker and prankster. She is kind, caring and she loves to be playfully tease her friends especially Lucas with the way she goes “Ha Hur”. She is very rebellious but that gets better over time as she matures. She is very close with Riley because those two have known each other since they were five years old. Maya will go above and beyond to protect her friends. She loves music and art. She is a picture kind of gal. Her after school activities involve the Art Club, Fashion Club and Music club. She plays guitar and piano and she plans to sign up for the talent show.

Isadora Smackle: Like Farkle her family is quite wealthy. She has ASD (Autism Spectrum Disorder)/Aspergers. She is very high functioning but she is not so good in social situations however she gets better thanks to Riley’s help. Out of all the friends from the female friend group Smackle is closest with Riley. Smackle loves science, debates and anything to do with physics. Her after school activities involve, science club, she is part of the mathletes and debate team. The three girls help Smackle gain more confidence by helping her with a make over but they don’t turn Smackle into their dress up doll they just help her with her clothing and help let down those pigtails. Smackle even does some after school tutoring and she gets heaps better with emotions and social situations.

Boys of Girl Meets World

Jet Hunter: Son of Shawn and Angela and twin sister to Melinda. Jet is very much like his father, a slacker, a trouble causer and spends and he pretty much lives in detention. He gets decent grades thanks to his sister’s help. He isn’t much into school so he doesn’t do a lot of school activities to do. Up until he moves to New York his twin sister was his only friend but unlike her he is a trouble causer. Like Shawn, Jet is very much a ladies man and has a thing for Maya Hart. Him and Maya get into the most trouble out of the friend group and like Maya he does the pictures. Jet is not into sports like his father the only physical activities he enjoys are skate boarding and swimming. He is very mechanical and knows how to fix cars and stuff. Since he is so skilled in mechanics and welding he joins the robotic team thanks to the encouragement of Melinda and Farkle. 

Farkle Minkus:  He is the son of Stewart Minkus and Jennifer Basset. Farkle is very much a flirt but is not as smooth as Jet or Lucas and he is a male version of Topanga. Farkle like Smackle is very awkward in social situations but is slightly better. He is very wealthy but is very embarrassed of his wealth because he just wants to fit in with the middle class. He is very smart and the class genius like Smackle. His favorite subject is science and he loves physics too. He down right hates sports the extent of his physical activities are clogging/tap dancing. His after school activities involve, science club, debate team, chess club and robotics club tap dancing which is something he has been into since he was 4 years old. 

Isaiah Babineaux: Like Lucas he came from Texas. Zay is a flirt and into feminine and masculine things. He loves football, horse back riding, and baseball. He also loves tap dancing, ballet which actually helps with his hand eye coordination in football. He is a very sensitive soul and very blunt. He is not afraid to express his feelings. This is something he helps Smackle and Farkle with. He is un-apologetically  himself and when he doesn’t like something he isn’t afraid to let people know. Him and Smackle are the most honest and the most blunt out of the friend group.

Lucas Friar: Grandson of Papi Joe and from Texas like Zay. Lucas came to New York because he got expelled from his old school and he got into fights a lot. Him going New York was a way for him to start fresh. His interests are sports and he loves animals like Melinda but not to the same extent she does. He still plans to be a vet. He is a little vain about his looks, super competive when it comes to sports very much like Buffy and has a temper so much so that his friends have to bring him back to reality and help calm him down. Underneath his competitiveness and his temper he is very insecure because he feels pressure to be perfect. He is very protective of his friends and his very compassionate as well. The reason Lucas is competive is because he wants to impress his grandfather and his father. He has a sensitive side which he learns to let out thanks to being Riley’s friend and being close with his mother. 

Honestly I had a lot of fun writing this out but Lucas was hardest for me to write a personality for because he is very bland. Anyways I hope you enjoyed reading this and please tell me what you think and remember keep your comments respectful. 

[parniarazi]

2 0 1 9

A few days into the fresh energy of the new year, I’m still processing a lot from 2019 because it was a huge year for me. I think it’s a big missed opportunity for self-growth if you don’t take some time to reflect on your year, what it taught you, how it shaped you, and what your goals are moving into a new year. Resolutions can be cheesy and cheap, but serious self-reflection and actions towards your goals are what will move you forward.

In 2019, I got to experience a lot of things I love. I photographed one of my favorite artists, I went to 6 music festivals (including my first SXSW and EDCLV), I traveled to Vegas, Italy, Germany, France, Colorado, and Mexico (not to mention a few weekends away in the lovely Austin, Texas). I connected with many different people this year, a few of whom have stuck around to be good friends. I graduated college surrounded by the support of my amazing family, started my first semester of grad school and my first real job, and I fell even more in love with Pavel after we made the decision to move in together.

Whew. Talk about self-growth. Years like this that are filled with change are definitely among the most difficult ones I remember, but getting older is cool sometimes because I recall other similar times when I felt challenged, pushed, and even frustrated, but then ended up getting through it and life being way better on the other side. For example, when I first moved to Houston in 2016. Another similarly big transition year, 2019 didn’t come without its struggles, but those have been incredible learning moments and just as important as my highs. 

Overall though, growing up is hard. I think this is something I say often, but I really feel that in my soul. Sometimes I feel like I have a grip on adulthood, I’m now financing larger trips and travel plans for Pavel and I, I’m seeing more of the world, I’m less afraid of doing adult things alone and less afraid of the unknown general. At the same time though, so much of my identity is rooted in my youth. Young, wild, and free, you know? Nothing is better. So in many ways, feeling this slip away from me year by year as I get older and have to handle more and more of my own responsibilities really sucks. Not being able to be as carefree or have as much free time can be a challenge that comes with adulthood, but fortunately having the level of self-awareness I’ve developed, I’m also realizing that I don’t actually have to buy into that narrative anymore. Can I be a fully responsible, independent adult and still create time for myself and give myself breaks to play, dance, and rest? Absolutely. Can I be a smart, professional, respectable person while still being funny and quirky and myself? Hell yeah. Getting settled into adulthood by moving out and going through all these changes I did this year has helped me realize that my life is really my own to shape and create however I want. I’ve learned that no matter what advice others give me or see fit for me, the decisions are mine to make at the end of the day and I’m the one who has to live my life every day. As the indecisive libra I am, this was hard at first but I can literally feel myself growing into my power and that feels fucking amazing. 

Major shifts also happened in my academic/professional life that were extremely difficult to go through, but I have a feeling were a huge plunge in the right direction for me. For most of undergrad (which was only 3 years), I was committed to staying in academia to get my Ph.D. in political science and then working as a professor. This was mainly for 3 reasons — I was always good at school so I thought putting off finding a job to stay in school longer would be an easy solution, I wanted to stay in an area I excelled in and felt comfortable in, and I didn’t explore my other interests/options enough at the time. I also couldn’t see myself dressing in business clothes, working in an office or corporate-type job. Essentially, I settled for something I thought would be more comfortable, but it turned out my undergrad program had not challenged me or prepared me for this grad program at all. Instead of being comfortable, I was thrown to the wolves in classes and material I was completely unprepared for and not even interested in. Not to mention, I felt incredibly alone and isolated from my classmates because many of them were older, already had a Master’s degree, and their lives revolved completely around the department because most of them worked as TAs while being full-time students. Meanwhile, I was working outside of academics, wanted to maintain my personal life and hobbies, and simply could not keep up with the pace and demands of the program. Nor did I want to, because seeing both the Ph.D. student and professor life up and close as a grad student made me realize that’s not the life I want as a professional. Academia can be incredibly stifling of new ideas, very bureaucratic, and has cookie-cutter ways to ‘making it’ in your given field. I learned that it is not an environment where my skills and personality would flourish, and I deserve better than that. I realized it’s unfair to both myself and the people who could benefit from my skills to force myself to fit into a box I simply don’t fit into.

That doesn’t go to say I have it all figured out now because I surely don’t. In fact, I’m on a whole new journey of finding jobs and fields I’m interested in, then gaining the right experiences and connections to get those jobs. Fortunately, I saved my grad school career by advocating for myself. Last semester, I immediately realized I hated the poli sci program, started exploring other related degree options, dropped my most difficult class after midterms, and then pushed and begged my advisors to actually do something to help me do something about my situation. After exploring and talking to people a bit, I realized my skillset would be a lot more applicable for something in Communications, like Public Relations or Mass Communications. I’ve always had a mind for communication, media, and relating to others as a deep empath. With broad applications in the world, I also realized this is a degree that I can make, not one that makes me. I can apply it and use it to do anything I'm interested in — from entertainment PR and marketing, to journalism and writing, to leadership and team management. My advisors were able to transfer me into the Communications MA for this spring, even though technically I would have had to apply and start in the fall. An important consideration about leaving political science was that they had given me a full scholarship covering my tuition, but since I’ve transferred I’ll now have to figure out paying for this semester myself and then finding scholarships or other ways to pay for the next 2 years (because I’ve made it this far and I refuse to have student loans). I’m so glad I didn’t let the money stop me because I would have lost that scholarship anyway since I dropped a class and didn’t get the most impressive grades, plus no scholarship is worth suffering in something you don’t want to be in and that won’t get you where you want to be.

Aside from the whirlwind that was this last semester, I am incredibly proud of myself for getting through all these crazy changes and still managing to be my joyful and best self (at least most of the time). I had my days where I cried hard after school and work, and some dark weeks this semester, but I made still doing things that make me happy a priority. Yoga, music, travel, going to festivals, going out with friends, seeing my family, and just slowing down for self-care. Finding familiarity and comfort in these things that bring me joy, combined with support from Pavel, are what got me through my hardest times this semester. Now I feel more settled into my new life being moved out, I feel more confident and powerful because I made my own decisions, and I feel excited about this new journey and the fulfillment and abundance this new path will bring me. 

Speaking of Pavel, it’s actually unreal how seamless and perfect moving in with him has been. Of course, we are immensely privileged because we aren’t dealing with rent, bills, or even cleaning much. But nonetheless, we’ve dealt with challenging times together but just going to bed together and waking up together makes life better. He’s my best friend in every way, living with him and sharing a space together is so magical and beautiful. I feel so safe, welcomed, and open to create the space and life I want here. I feel so cared for, valued, and loved with Pavel. We work so well together, it feels effortless and deliciously perfect. He grounds me, and this space has become home so quickly because of the way he makes me feel here. Moving out has taught me so much, helped me start overcoming a lot of fear and anxiety, and just allowed me to blossom more into myself. I will be forever grateful for Pavel helping make that happen with me at this point in our lives where it was so perfectly needed. I respect and love him endlessly for being the mature, intelligent, caring, patient partner that I need in my life. 

2019 was also a year of letting go of a lot of friendships, people, and energies that no longer serve me. I realized that I am a wonderful friend who is ready to give support, love, guidance, hugs, and my whole heart to someone who is willing to give all of that back and who is deserving of receiving that from me. Even though I’m in a healthy and happy long-term relationship, I still feel myself holding space in my heart for deep friendships and connections with other people (specifically with women/feminine energy), but I haven’t been able to fill that space since moving to Texas. I miss the friendships I grew up having, and I put a lot of pressure on filling that space for a while, but I realizing forcing it gets me nowhere and a lot of people simply aren’t in a place to be able to reciprocate my energy in a meaningful way. A lot of people are really caught up in their own lives (which is totally understandable), already have other people filling the space for friendship in their lives, or simply aren’t at the level of maturity and growth that I am so they can’t connect with me on a deep level. Making close friends as an adult is way harder, people are just busier, but I really do trust that I will attract the right people and they will come into my life at the right time.

Continuing to expand and grow into my spirituality and spiritual practices by meditating, journaling, listening to podcasts, and practicing yoga has also brought me solace and internal happiness. It’s hard to describe and most people my age/similar to me are really disconnected from having their own authentic beliefs/practices because they either go with what they’re taught or dismiss it altogether. For me, having a career path I find exciting and fulfilling, a stable romantic relationship, healthy friendships, a spiritual practice, and fun hobbies are all areas of my life that I need to satisfy to feel balanced and genuinely happy. Knowing this, and after reflecting on all of these areas within the past year, I’m manifesting the following for each area in 2020, but I also know the Universe knows more than me and things may go differently for a reason (like my poli sci program not working out) so I trust that I will receive this, or something better...

☽ Career — I will get a second job/start a side hustle that will help fund my school and travels this year, I will start learning exciting new things that prepare me for a field/job I’m passionate about, I will secure an internship that pays well and allows me to practice/gain useful skills, I will get scholarships for next school year, I will feel a sense of belonging and make friends in my new program, I will continue learning and exploring different options/opportunities, and I will make connections with people who can mentor me and help me grow into starting my career.  

☽ Relationship — Pavel and I will continue to support, love, and care for each other in all aspects. Our love will continue to grow and flourish as we grow in life together. We will go on adventures that make us feel happy, excited, exhausted and refreshed. We will add to our stories and crazy experiences. We will continue treating each other with love and respect, supporting each others’ growth as individuals while also growing together in a really beautiful way. 

☽ Friendship — I will continue to grow my valuable friendships with people who are on the same wavelength as me. I will have a lot of laughs and good memories with people I care about. I will get deeper into the communities of like-minded people around me (music, yoga). I will find more friends who inspire me and actively support my creative ideas/work. I will develop deeper and more fulfilling friendships with people who reciprocate my energy, and I will extend myself in new ways by being the person I needed for others. 

☽ Spirituality — I will continue practicing meditation and yoga as much as I can. I will also continue to read one book per month and listen to one podcast per week to grow the value in my practice. I will journal and synchronize my self-growth with lunar and astrological cycles, which allows me to tap into my higher power and divine connection with the universe. I will also consider doing a YTT this summer or winter, but regardless I will find outlets to be of assistance to others and give back in this area that has been of such deep value in my life. I will practice breathing, mindfulness, and presence to feel grounded during stressful times. I will get better at protecting my energy and staying rooted in my own positive energy and affirmations (aka, not letting other people’s BS or toxic energy affect me). 

☽ Fun — I will continue going to events that surround me with good energy and good people. I will continue doing what brings me joy, allows me to move and release tension and energy, and that brings me closer with like-minded friends. I will continue to make the incredible trips and experiences I desire a reality by saving money and smart planning. I make more of an effort to bring this good energy with me into my every day by being myself and sharing my laughs and joy with the people around me. I will continue to feed my inner child, my creativity, and my natural human existence on this earth.

I have no doubt that 2020 will continue this amazing momentum and growth that I have cultivated over the past year. I am beyond blissful and grateful for the incredible year I had and all it taught me, but I’m also ready to move forward feeling more prepared, confident, and capable of making everything I can imagine a reality. 

[chthonicpdx]

the winding road to Hekate

alright i’m just gonna post about this bc life is WILD right now. 

so, like, 13 (?) years ago, i was Going Through Some Shit, and i ended up bawling my eyes out on the laundry room floor of my college dorm, begging any god who could hear me for help (PTSD is rough, man.)

in response, i heard - for the first time - a steady, clear voice in my head say: “I will get you through this.” 

(i still get chills, just thinking about it.)

so, having been raised Very Christian, and still running with that crowd, i immediately assumed this was The Holy Spirit speaking to me (in my defense, the xtian God speaks to ppl in the bible in a *lot* stranger ways, so it seemed logical at the time.) 

but anyhow, i’d never been exposed to anything *but* Christianity/monotheism. really. i had no idea there were living polytheistic religions in the world (i was sheltered, man. long story. and i was young.) 

so anyway, i’m 19, and i hear this Voice, and immediately like, throw myself harder into xtian church stuff. i keep living life too - i go to class, i go to therapy, i go to church. i keep journaling and reading the bible and spending LOTS of time in nature. and i keep hearing this Voice.

all the while, hearing this Voice makes me want to sing and dance and talk back; makes me want to make art, and spin in circles in the grass, and learn and grow and know. and it makes me softer, and kinder, and more open. it helps me make friends with my demons. it helps me heal.

(read more under the cut. cw for mentions of homo/transphobia in christianity)

i spent the next decade heavily involved in the xtian church, to the point where it was my entire life. it was all i knew. it was my family and my home (and, somehow, i never really noticed that the Voice in my head was a lot softer, and a lot kinder, than so many of the voices of those who sat next to me in the pews.)

at any rate, the church was my home. my everything. then i came out. 

and that was that. 

i’m bi and nonbinary, and coming out caused a royal shitstorm. i lost nearly everyone - including my birth family. i had built my whole world on a foundation of sand, and the sea came to knock over my castles. 

but the Voice? the Voice was still there. and that should have been my first clue. 

the Voice whispered to me that if i trusted in a loving god, shouldn’t i be honest with myself about my sexuality? if i believe i was created, shouldn’t i trust my creator enough not to throw me away? even when everyone else did?

it was enough to keep me going, and keep me questioning. it was a lot of hard work, but i kept asking myself hard questions; i kept praying. and i figured out important things about myself - about who and how i love, and about who i am. and that Mattered. 

but still. the xtian church doors were officially closed to me, and my family was done. so i walked from them away too. and - since i never even considered that there were truly other gods out there - i stopped listening for the Voice as well. 

* * * * *

fast forward to now: five years later. the xtian church has made some huge strides in inclusivity for LGBTQ ppl, which is great. i started attending a local Lutheran church, full of sweet older gay couples who literally welcomed me with open arms. and it was wonderful and healing and Good. 

and just like that that, i opened my mind/heart/spirit up again, and guess what? the Voice was still there, patiently waiting. only this time, everything was different. because this time, she told me her name. 

* * * * *

that’s the suuuuuper abridged version of how i realized that the Voice in my head, that i’ve been in nearly constant contact with for all of my adult life is not - in fact - Jesus and/or the xtian holy spirit, but a Greek Goddess who’s Very Much Real, and Very Much Present in my daily life. 

and i’m kind of freaking out right now. i honestly don’t know what to do with this revelation. i think this post is a bit of, “i want this blog to be a place to share genuine spiritual experiences, so i can hopefully learn from and get to know other Hellenic polytheists,” and also my brain just going, “AAAAAAAAAAAH!!!” 

like, i grew up with that One Brand™ of evangelicalism that was like, “God’s your dad so you should just be yourself around him; don’t worry about formalities,” so i’m really not used to a system of offerings and protocol and all of that. 

which isn’t to say that i’m not *extremely* grateful for these things - i am. i’m very, very glad to be joining a religion (Hellenic reconstructionism) that has some solid, specific ways to interact with the gods. it’s comforting, and it’s nice to know where to start. but it’s also overwhelming. 

and it’s really, really overwhelming to realize that the Voice that’s now as familiar as my own thoughts - the one i’ve been instinctually reaching out to without thought since i was a teenager - is also the Goddess of whom Homer said this: 

Zeus the son of Cronos honoured (Hecate) above all. He gave her splendid gifts, to have a share of the earth and the unfruitful sea. She received honour also in starry heaven, and is honoured exceedingly by the deathless gods.

For to this day, whenever any one of men on earth offers rich sacrifices and prays for favour according to custom, he calls upon Hecate. Great honour comes full easily to him whose prayers the goddess receives favourably, and she bestows wealth upon him; for the power surely is with her. For as many as were born of Earth and Ocean amongst all these she has her due portion.

The son of Cronos did her no wrong nor took anything away of all that was her portion among the former Titan gods: but she holds, as the division was at the first from the beginning, privilege both in earth, and in heaven, and in sea.

Also, because she is an only child, the goddess receives not less honour, but much more still, for Zeus honours her. Whom she will she greatly aids and advances: she sits by worshipful kings in judgement, and in the assembly whom she will is distinguished among the people. And when men arm themselves for the battle that destroys men, then the goddess is at hand to give victory and grant glory readily to whom she will. [x]

so like. Internal screaming. very much internal screaming. 

i am overwhelmed and grateful and so very, very found. and i wouldn’t have it any other way. but this is certainly the strangest spiritual experience i've ever had - and that includes first hearing a foreign voice in my head while i was sobbing on a laundry room floor. 

so anyway...that’s a long winded way of saying hey what’s up, i’m Winter, i belong to Hecate (and damn that feels good to write) and i’d love to get to know ya’ll. if anyone has similar experiences to share (or any sort of insight on what the HECK is going on for me right now) i welcome comments/responses! 

otherwise, this was my way of organizing my thoughts via tumblr ramble. thanks for reading, loves ❤ 

(ps ask me sometime how Hades started this all. i blame @chironomy​)

[dangerouslypoisoned]

Take Me Back Home part 13

//Warning. This story will contain mentions of drugs, alcohol, and abuse. But so does like everything I write 🤷🏻‍♀️ anyway, you’ve been warned!

May 13th, 2018

Breaking News: No Identification On Body Found Last Night.

More to follow as the story develops. If you have any information please contact the police. 

January 1st, 2018

“We can really go back in May?”

“Yes. I’m giving you one month while I finish out a business deal.”

“I’m not coming back here.”

“Bet your ass you are.”

“You never adopted me, I’m not yours.”

“But everyone thinks you are! I’m not letting you ruin my reputation!”

“Whatever, I’m just going to go now.” And with that Haeun was out the door before her father could grab her. She walked out of her home and to a bookstore she found a few blocks away. It seemed that no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stay away from books and bookstores.

She walked inside and walked to the back where they had a sitting area, she sat at a table and took out the book Josh had given her for her birthday and began writing once again.

‘The day I go back is the day I become alive again. Although it’ll be short lived, if they can get this journal, my box from my childhood, it’ll all be worth it.’

She copied that exact few sentences from the first page of the journal before going into something new.

‘It’s now January 1st, 2018. He said on May 1st we could go back. I’ll find my real family, I won’t be a burden to anyone again. Funny isn’t it? They said I’m the girl with the biggest heart when in reality I’ve been nothing but a selfish, lost, child. People gave up their lives for me, they stopped living their lives to protect me, and I selfishly added more people into that. I thought I was giving them a home, a family. But what I really gave them was a fake to hide behind, nothing can replace what we should have. Whether we have it or not, I took them away selfishly and kept them together, and now they’re waiting for my return...why did they wait for me?

They say pain changes you, is that true? What I’m going through, what my father does to me...he’s always done. Yet, back in Korea, I was happy. The pain didn’t change me, the people did. How can I be happy when I don’t have them? But how could I go back to them after everything they gave up for me, how could I dare be happy when I’ve put such a burden on them for years?

Were they every really happy with me? I can’t think these thoughts. My happy, past self is trying to tell me that it’s just the heartbreak, the loneliness talking. That, of course, they were happy, we were all happy. We were a family, it wasn’t a burden, and I’m just rambling and talking nonsense, that I barely make any sense.

Which is correct? My past, happy self? Or the new me?’ -January 1st, 2018. Journal Entry 67.

January 3rd, 2018

“Come on you guys have school.” Taeyong and Doyoung said as they made their way through Ten’s apartment waking up Renjun, Jeno, Donghyuck, Jaemin, Chenle, and Jisung. They were still in high school, Lucas and Mark graduated already and none of the older ones were in real college. They took online classes or focused on their dreams, they didn’t have much to lose anyway. They really just had to focus on work and being able to pay for rent and to feed each other. 

The thing they all really enjoyed was music, they all loved to sing and dance and play their instruments. Mark and Taeyong wrote songs with those who could play instruments, the others would sing and rap them and others would choreograph dances for them. Sadly this didn’t really pay, besides when Mark and Taeyong sold their songs. 

That's why they needed real jobs as well, if only they could make a living doing music like they all really loved to do. 

“No...” They all mumbled as the older members who were up laughed slightly.

“We know waking up is awful.” Taeyong laughed, “But you need to go to school to have a career and life.” 

“Can’t we just study here?” Chenle whined and rubbed his eyes.

“No.” Doyoung laughed as well and ruffed the hair of each of the kids as they began to get up and walked towards the bathroom or kitchen. 

Renjun was the first to get up, he was one of the more responsible ones considering he was the oldest still in school. Next was Jisung because he shared the bed with Renjun and after having Renjun moving around a lot he woke up fully and followed him. Then at Chenle because he still slept in the same chair with Lucas who was an early bird and quite loud in the morning. Then Jeno, Jaemin, and Donghyuck got up, they all laid together on the couch and once one got up it disturbed all of them.

They all cleaned up, brushed their hair and teeth and then got into their uniforms. “Don’t forget your bags!” Mark rubbed his eyes and sat up from his spot on the floor.

“Awe Markie is like a mom.” Donghyuck laughed and grabbed his bag from the floor along with everyone else. 

“Jisung your paper is over there for history,” Doyoung said softly and pointed to the counter. Jisung just nodded and walked over and grabbed his paper, something was wrong, something that they all wanted to ignore it hoping their youngest wouldn’t remember the date. 

“Two years.” Jisung said softly and walked towards the door, “Let's go, we’ll be late.” The rest just nodded not knowing what to say to comfort their youngest and they left for school.

“Jisung, do you want to go to the park today after school? Just walk around and clear our minds, maybe talk about things you’ve been keeping?” Renjun asked softly and everyone else agreed.

“I’m not keeping-’

“Ji, we know what today is. What if just us got together and talked about her, to make ourselves feels better. That way when she comes back to us all of our memories can be fresh.” Donghyuck smiled and patted his younger friends back. 

“So much has changed...” Jisung said softly as they walked to school. 

“Then let’s talk about that, you’ll feel better.” Jeno smiled.

“Let's go to a cafe though, it’s cold.” Jisung smiled at his older friends who were trying to help him.

-------

‘It’s been two years to the day since I had to leave Korea and my real family. Taeyong, Johnny, Doyoung, Ten, Lucas, Mark, Renjun, Jeno, Donghyuk, Jaemin, Chenle, Jisung. In previous entries I was more depressed, letting my negative emotions get the best of me. I felt that I was a burden, but as I’ve thought more, I know that I wasn’t. I haven’t used this journal as an outlet for my emotions before, I haven’t expressed my emotions in two years. Everything has been kept inside, that's why my demons have gotten the best of me recently. 

I’m going to spill everything now. I don’t have anything to lose anyway.

I can’t talk about myself yet, I’m going to talk about my family in Korea.

Taeyong, no one really knows about him except Doyoung, Ten, and Johnny.  Should I even write it down? I guess it’s okay too, right? Am I crazy for asking a journal if I can write about my older brother? I must be. Anyway, Taeyong is five years older than me, he was one of the four who came and saved me after my actual older brother passed away. I was six at the time, he was eleven he was nervous around me, I could tell. Even if he didn’t really show it I could tell he wasn’t used to hanging out with someone my age. However, over the years he grew into an older brother figure for me, kind of like a parent, someone who always cared for me and protected me. Taeyong was neglected by his parents but he didn’t realize because his older sister cared for him like a parent. But when Taeyong was thirteen and I was eight, his older sister committed suicide. She was only nineteen, Taeyong didn’t tell anyone besides Johnny, Doyoung, and Ten because they were the oldest and the longest friends. Then he told me one day when I was having a hard time, we confided in each other. I shouldn’t write too much about others...’

“Haeun?” At the mention of her name, she closed her notebook and saw none other than Josh. “I figured it all out. I’m not as dumb as you think.”

“What are you going on about now?” Haeun didn’t mean to be rude to him, but getting involved with people in America was just a pain because she was going to leave anyway.

“You’re abused Haeun.”

[ceruleanvulpine]

asoue re-rereadening IS BACK: “hey i went to boarding school and it didn’t suck” edition

aka the austere academy.

happy winter holiday period to everyone, i am home and there are cats all over me and it is very relaxing. as such i have decided i need to RAISE my stress level by - jk. but i am going to keep doing these commentaries even though the new season hasn’t come out yet. 

For Beatrice- You will always be in my heart, in my mind, and in your grave.

STARTING OFF ON A CHEERY NOTE AS USUAL MR SNICKET

If you were going to give a gold medal to the least delightful person on Earth, you would have to give that medal to a person named Carmelita Spats, and if you didn't give it to her, Carmelita Spats was the sort of person who would snatch it from your hands anyway. Carmelita Spats was rude, she was violent, and she was filthy, and it is really a shame that I must describe her to you, because there are enough ghastly and distressing things in this story without even mentioning such an unpleasant person.

This is A Way to open a book. 

No matter who was caring for the Baudelaires, Count Olaf was always right behind them, performing such dastardly deeds that I can scarcely list them all: kidnapping, murder, nasty phone calls, disguises, poison, hypnosis, and atrocious cooking are just some of the adversities the Baudelaire orphans survived at his hands.

is this list ordered in any way

The three siblings survived living with Count Olaf, but just barely, shoved aside by Carmelita Spats will look like a trip to the ice cream store.

squints 

... 

possibly this is a PDF of questionable quality

Shyness is a curious thing, because, like quicksand, it can strike people at any time, and also, like quicksand, it usually makes its victims look down.

It’s been a while since I read one of these books, so every time I encounter one of these lines I get distracted and have to come over here to say “nice” 

Nice. 

Mr. Poe meant well, but a jar of mustard probably also means well and would do a better job of keeping the Baudelaires out of danger.

IS IT mustard with horseradish in, because if so definitely yes

Klaus had known for all twelve of his years that his older sister found a hand on her shoulder comforting-as long as the hand was attached to an arm, of course.

Thanks For Clarifying My Dude

“And most important of all, there is an advanced computer system which will keep Count Olaf away from you. Vice Principal Nero told me that Count Olaf's complete description-everything from his one long eyebrow to the tattoo of an eye on his left ankle-has been programmed into the computer, so you three should be safe here for the next several years."

"But how can a computer keep Count Olaf away?" Violet asked in a puzzled voice, still looking down at the ground.

"It's an advanced computer," Mr. Poe said, as if the word "advanced" were a proper explanation instead of a word meaning "having attained advancement."

science journalism mood

also the computer just not doing anything is such a good bit?? 

... ALSO THEY HAVE COMPUTERS?? anachronism running wild again here in the snicketverse 

A person who designs buildings is called an architect, but in the case of Prufrock Prep a better term might be "depressed architect."

fsdjgjdfgfg i LOVE THIS LINE

"Remember you will die," Violet repeated quietly, and the three siblings stepped closer to one another, as if they were very cold. Everybody will die, of course, sooner or later. Circus performers will die, and clarinet experts will die, and you and I will die, and there might be a person who lives on your block, right now, who is not looking both ways before he crosses the street and who will die in just a few seconds, all because of a bus. Everybody will die, but very few people want to be reminded of that fact. The children certainly did not want to remember that they would die, particularly as they walked beneath the arch over Prufrock Prep. The Baudelaire orphans did not need to be reminded of this as they began their first day in the giant graveyard that was now their home.

This book got very grim very fast. 

But on this particular night, the Baudelaire parents came home early and the children were still up reading-or, in Sunny's case, looking at the pictures. The siblings' father stood in the doorway of the library and said something they never forgot. "Children," he said, "there is no worse sound in the world than somebody who cannot play the violin who insists on doing so anyway."

Hey: I love Bertrand?? 

"The Baudelaires," Klaus said quietly, looking at the floor. "Mr. Poe said to come right to Vice Principal Nero's office."

"Mr. Poe said to come right to Vice Principal Nero's office," the man mimicked in a high, shrieky voice. "Well, come in, come in, I don't have all afternoon."

Actually I wouldn’t be shocked if as a child I’d had very strong feelings about this book because of my very strong feelings that teachers in general were persecuting me by being unfair etc.... but unfortunately I do not remember.

he was wearing a tie decorated with pictures of snails

The office had one window, decorated with curtains that matched the man's tie.

Looks.

Also, this is the one main-series book that I listened to as an audiobook instead of just reading, and it’s coincidentally one of the ones that’s narrated by danhands instead of Tim Curry; as a consequence I keep hearing Nero as Danhands Villain Voice in my head. 

“Anyway, here at Prufrock Prep there'll be no blaming your own weaknesses on this Count Olaf person. Look at this."

(OUTRAGE.)

Vice Principal Nero walked over to the computer and pressed two buttons over and over again. The screen lit up with a light green glow, as if it were seasick. "This is an advanced computer," Nero said. "Mr. Poe gave me all the necessary information about the man you call Count Olaf, and I programmed it into the computer. See?" Nero pressed another button, and a small picture of Count Olaf appeared on the computer screen. "Now that the advanced computer knows about him, you don't have to worry."

"But how can a computer keep Count Olaf away?" Klaus asked. "He could still show up and cause trouble, no matter what appears on a computer screen."

"I shouldn't have bothered trying to explain this to you," Vice Principal Nero said. "There's no way uneducated people like yourself can understand a genius like me. Well, Prufrock Prep will take care of that. You'll get an education here if we have to break both your arms to do it. Speaking of which, I'd better show you around. Come here to the window."

You'll get an education here if we have to break both your arms to do it.

(CONCERN??) 

"Now, this building you're in is the administrative building. It is completely off-limits to students. Today is your first day, so I'll forgive you, but if I see you here again, you will not be allowed to use silverware at any of your meals.”

“Now, if either of you are late for class, or Sunny is late for work, your hands will be tied behind your back during meals. You'll have to lean down and eat your food like a dog. Of course, Sunny will always have her silverware taken away, because she will work in the administrative building, where she's not allowed."

Meals are served promptly at breakfast time, lunchtime, and dinnertime. If you're late we take away your cups and glasses, and your beverages will be served to you in large puddles.

The word 'mandatory' means that if you don't show up, you have to buy me a large bag of candy and watch me eat it.

I.... I don’t even have any comment on this

what is happening

“Your parents are dead, and Mr. Poe tells me that your guardians have either been killed or have fired you."

ah, sir

"Perhaps after a few semesters at Prufrock Prep, you'll learn the difference between a parent and a banker.”

YOU KNOW, I THINK THEY KNOW IT?? 

It is always cruel to laugh at people, of course, although sometimes if they are wearing an ugly hat it is hard to control yourself.

lemony is .. good

.. you know, you could replace about 70% of my commentary with a combination of “???!” and “lemony is good” and “;-;”

The first detail the Baudelaires noticed was that the shack was infested with small crabs, each one about the size of a matchbox, scurrying around the wooden floor with their tiny claws snapping in the air. As the children walked across the shack to sit glumly on one of the bales of hay, they were disappointed to learn that the crabs were territorial, a word which here means "unhappy to see small children in their living quarters." The crabs gathered around the children and began snapping their claws at them.

Some sort of fungus was growing on the ceiling, a fungus that was light tan and quite damp. Every few seconds, small drops of moisture would fall from the fungus with a plop! and the children had to duck to avoid getting light tan fungus juice on them.

Each tin wall was bright green, with tiny pink hearts painted here and there as if the shack were an enormous, tacky Valentine's Day card instead of a place to live.

???!

I confess that if I had been told that it was my home I probably would have lain on the bales of hay and thrown a temper tantrum.

lemony is good

The children sighed and then sat quietly for a few moments. The shack was quiet, except for the snapping of tiny crab claws, the plop! of fungus, and the sighs of the Baudelaires as they looked at the ugly walls. Try as they might, the youngsters just couldn't make the shack into a molehill. No matter how much they thought of real classrooms, people their own age, or the exciting opportunity of secretarial skills, their new home seemed much, much worse than even the sorest of stubbed toes.

;-;

When the Baudelaires entered the cafeteria, they found a lasagna waiting for them that was the size of a dance floor. It was sitting on top of an enormous trivet to keep it from burning the floor, and the person serving it was wearing a thick metal mask as protection, so that the children could only see their eyes peeking out from tiny eyeholes. (...) 

Next to the salad was a mountain of garlic bread, and at the end of the line was another metal-masked person, handing out silverware to the students who had not been inside the administrative building. (...)

The Baudelaires said "thank you" to the person, who gave them a slow metallic nod in return.

???!

At least they got garlic bread I guess.

"Oh, leave them alone, Carmelita!" a voice cried over the chanting. The Baudelaires turned around and saw a boy with very dark hair and very wide eyes. He looked a little older than Klaus and a little younger than Violet and had a dark green notebook tucked into the pocket of his thick wool sweater. "You're the cakesniffer, and nobody in their right mind would want to eat with you anyway. Come on," the boy said, turning to the Baudelaires. "There's room at our table."

MY CHILDE

"Sappho!" Sunny shrieked, which meant something like "I'd be very pleased to hear a poem of yours!"

Oh my god thanks danhands. (absurd meme voice) does isadora is gay

"It's a very short poem," she said. "Only two rhyming lines."

"That's called a couplet," Klaus said. "I learned that from a book of literary criticism."

"Yes, I know," Isadora said.

don’t MANSPLAIN klaus

"I would rather eat a bowl of vampire bats 

than spend an hour with Carmelita Spats."

WHY do isadora’s poems not have any kind of consistent meter. this bugs the fuck out of me and it’s very petty and yet

"Duncan and I had to live there for three semesters because we needed a parent or guardian to sign our permission slip, and we didn't have one."

THREE SEMESTERS -- 

confused grumbling about quigley timeline in the distance

Duncan's and Isadora's faces fell, an expression which does not mean that the front part of their heads actually fell to the ground.

THANK GOD U CLARIFIED LEMONY,,

The library turned out to be a very pleasant place, but it was not the comfortable chairs, the huge wooden bookshelves, or the hush of people reading that made the three siblings feel so good as they walked into the room. It is useless for me to tell you all about the brass lamps in the shapes of different fish, or the bright blue curtains that rippled like water as a breeze came in from the window, because although these were wonderful things they were not what made the three children smile. The Quagmire triplets were smiling, too, and although I have not researched the Quagmires nearly as much as I have the Baudelaires, I can say with reasonable accuracy that they were smiling for the same reason.

It is a relief, in hectic and frightening times, to find true friends, and it was this relief that all five children were feeling as the Quagmires gave the Baudelaires a tour of the Prufrock Library. Friends can make you feel that the world is smaller and less sneaky than it really is, because you know people who have similar experiences, a phrase which here means "having lost family members in terrible fires and lived in the Orphans Shack." As Duncan and Isadora whispered to Violet, Klaus, and Sunny, explaining how the library was organized, the Baudelaire children felt less and less distressed about their new circumstances, and by the time Duncan and Isadora were recommending their favorite books, the three siblings thought that perhaps their troubles were coming to an end at last. They were wrong about this, of course, but tor the moment it didn't matter. The Baudelaire orphans had found friends, and as they stood in the library with the Quagmire triplets, the world felt smaller and safer than it had for a long, long time.

I had to quote this whole bit because it is so sweet and made me very sad .. please just let them be happy and okay and have a nice library

If you have walked into a museum recently- whether you did so to attend an art exhibition or to escape from the police-

Uh

For instance, my friend Professor Reed made a triptych for me, and he painted fire on one panel, a typewriter on another, and the face of a beautiful, intelligent woman on the third. The triptych is entitled What Happened to Beatrice and I cannot look upon it without weeping.

Ouch. and the typewriter must stand in for Lemony, yes? which, ouch. 

I am a writer, and not a painter, but if I were to try and paint a triptych entitled The Baudelaire Orphans' Miserable Experiences at Prufrock Prep, I would paint Mr. Remora on one panel, Mrs. Bass on another, and a box of staples on the third, and the results would make me so sad that between the Beatrice triptych and the Baudelaire triptych I would scarcely stop weeping all day.

between the beatrice triptych.. and the baudelaire triptych

between the beatrice triptych and the baudelaire triptych

is that “beatrice baudelaire” foreshadowing i see before me or am i overthinking it?? also triptych is a really hard word to spell. 

For instance, she was in charge of answering the telephone, but people who called Vice Principal Nero did not always know that "Seltepia!" was Sunny's way of saying "Good morning, this is Vice Principal Nero's office, how may I help you?" By the second day Nero was furious at her for confusing so many of his business associates. In addition, Sunny was in charge of typing, stapling, and mailing all of Vice Principal Nero's letters, which meant she had to work a typewriter, a stapler, and stamps, all of which were designed for adult use.

ijdfjgsidfg i can’t BELIEVE how silly this is, i hope they keep it just as ridiculous for the show 

Saturday and Sunday were regular schooldays, supposedly in keeping with the school's motto.

LMAO MOOD (my high school had saturday classes the first year i attended and it definitely did a lot to make me remember death) 

The Quagmires had distracted some of the masked cafeteria workers by dropping their trays on the ground, and while Nero yelled at them for making a mess, the Baudelaires had slipped three saltshakers into their pockets.

thIEVERY, VILLAINY, THE SLIPPERY SLOPE,

Why are there so many... Olaf leg illustrations? There’s definitely one in the Miserable Mill too?? 

Coach Genghis scratched his turban and looked down at the children as if they were an all-you-can-eat salad bar instead of five orphans. "Oh yes," he said in the wheezy voice the Baudelaires still heard in their nightmares.

it’s in mine too now baudelaires

"But Count Olaf is very dangerous," Klaus said. "If you try and help us, you'll be risking your lives."

"Never mind about that," Duncan said, although I am sorry to tell you that the Quagmire triplets should have minded about that. They should have minded very much. Duncan and Isadora were very brave and caring to try and help the Baudelaire orphans, but bravery often demands a price. By "price" I do not mean something along the lines of five dollars. I mean a much, much bigger price, a price so dreadful that I cannot speak of it now but must return to the scene I am writing at this moment.

The doomed optimism of the Quagmires’ anti-Olaf plans make me Real Sad. Like, the moment when they get disguised and everyone stands there and no one says out loud what they’re all thinking, which is that the disguises aren’t especially good and they’re all in terrible danger - well. I’ll almost certainly quote it later. But it’s very upsetting. 

I'm sure you would know, even if I didn't tell you, that things were about to get much worse for the Baudelaires, but I will end this chapter with this moment of companionable comfort rather than skip ahead to the unpleasant events of the next morning, or the terrible trials of the days that followed, or the horrific crime that marked the end of the Baudelaires' time at Prufrock Prep. These things happened, of course, and there is no use pretending they didn't. But for now let us ignore the terrible sonata, the dreadul teachers, the nasty, teasing students, and the even more wretched things that will be happening soon enough. Let us enjoy this brief moment of comfort, as the Baudelaires enjoyed it in the company of the Quagmire triplets and, in Sunny's case, an armrest. Let us enjoy, at the end of this chapter, the last happy moment any of these children would have for a long, long time.

I...

As always, thanks, Lemony. 

It has been closed for many years, ever since Mrs. Bass was arrested for bank robbery 

Full disclosure, I’m only quoting this because I vaguely recall it being relevant later.

"What are you snickering at?" Violet asked.

"I just realized something," Klaus said. "We're going to the administrative building without an appointment. We'll have to eat our meals without silverware."

"There's nothing funny about that!" Violet said. "What if they serve oatmeal for breakfast? We'll have to scoop it up with our hands."

"Oot," Sunny said, which meant "Trust me, it's not that difficult," and at that the Baudelaire sisters joined their brother in laughter. It was not funny, of course, that Nero enforced such terrible punishments, but the idea of eating oatmeal with their hands gave all three siblings the giggles.

"Or fried eggs!" Violet said. "What if they serve runny fried eggs?"

"Or pancakes, covered in syrup!" Klaus said.

"Soup!" Sunny shrieked, and they all broke out in laughter again.

"Remember the picnic?" Violet said. "We were going to Rutabaga River for a picnic, and Father was so excited about the meal he made that he forgot to pack silverware!"

GOD THEY’RE SO CUTE AND I WANT THEM TO BE HAPPY!!! DAMN IT DANHANDS

"That's the message," Carmelita insisted. "He said that if you don't show up you'll be in big trouble, so if I were you, Violet-"

"You aren't Violet, thank goodness," Duncan interrupted. It is not very polite to interrupt a person, of course, but sometimes if the person is very unpleasant you can hardly stop yourself. "Thank you for your message. Good-bye."

Duncan and Isadora are sweet. Also, more willing to be rude than Violet and Klaus, which is often appropriate to their situation. 

"We propped open the back door of the auditorium," Duncan said. He and Isadora smiled triumphantly and leaned back in their chairs. The Baudelaires did not feel triumphant. They felt confused. They did not want to insult their friends, who had broken the rules and sacrificed their drinking glasses just to help them, but they were unable to see how propping open the back door of the auditorium was a solution to the trouble in which they found themselves.

"I'm sorry," Violet said after a pause. "I don't understand how propping open the back door of the auditorium solves our problem."

"Don't you see?" Isadora asked. "We're going to sit in the back of the auditorium tonight, and as soon as Nero begins his concert, we will tiptoe out and sneak over to the front lawn. That way we can keep an eye on you and Coach Genghis. If anything fishy happens, we will run back to the concert and alert Vice Principal Nero."

"It's the perfect plan, don't you think?" Duncan asked. "I'm rather proud of my sister and me, if I do say so myself."

The Baudelaire children looked at one another doubtfully. They didn't want to disappoint their friends or criticize the plan that the Quagmire triplets had cooked up, particularly since the Baudelaires hadn't cooked up any plan themselves. But Count Olaf was so evil and so clever that the three siblings couldn't help but think that propping a door open and sneaking out to spy on him was not much of a defense against his treachery.

SEE WHAT I MEANT ... 

The Baudelaires looked at one another again. It was very brave of the Quagmire triplets not to be frightened of Olaf and to be so confident about their plan. But the three siblings could not help but wonder if the Quagmires should be so brave. Olaf was such a wretched man that it seemed wise to be frightened of him, and he had defeated so many of the Baudelaires' plans that it seemed a little foolish to be so confident about this one. But the children were so appreciative of their friends' efforts that they said nothing more about the matter. In the years to come, the Baudelaire orphans would regret this, this time when they said nothing more about the matter, but in the meantime they merely finished their dinner.

;-;

The three siblings had heard Coach Genghis, but they couldn't believe that S.O.R.E. was the extent of his evil plan. The Baudelaire orphans kept running around the glowing circle until the first rays of sunrise began to reflect on the jewel in Genghis's turban, and all they could think was What ? What? What?

Man, waiting for the other shoe to drop on what the hell Olaf is doing is -- 

... OH SHIT i just remembered that he’s after the quagmires, isn’t he, the sapphires were mentioned early on and everything, and the quagmires are so determined to save their good friends the baudelaires - augh!!

But they wanted to be lucky. The Baudelaires did not necessarily want to be extremely lucky, like someone who finds a treasure map or someone who wins a lifetime supply of ice cream in a contest, or like the man-and not, alas, me- who was lucky enough to marry my beloved Beatrice, and live with her in happiness over the course of her short life.

I MEAN, HE DIDN’T MAKE OUT TOO WELL EITHER, LEMONY

It seems impossible to believe that the three Baudelaires managed to survive another evening of S.O.R.E., but in times of extreme stress one can often find energy hidden in even the most exhausted areas of the body. I discovered this myself when I was woken up in the middle of the night and chased sixteen miles by an angry mob armed with torches, swords, and vicious dogs, and the Baudelaire orphans discovered it as they ran laps, not only for that night but also for six nights following.

lemony

my dude

are you okay

As I'm sure you know, a good night's sleep helps you perform well in school, and so if you are a student you should always get a good night's sleep unless you have come to the good part of your book, and then you should stay up all night and let your schoolwork fall by the wayside, a phrase which means "flunk."

Excellent advice! Which I think I previously encountered while reading this book while staying up late and ignoring my schoolwork, so, uh..

The Quagmire triplets were so worried about their friends that they felt pinched as well, even though they were not directly in danger-or so they thought, anyway.

SEE!!

"If only we had one of the world's great inventors to help us," Violet said. "I wonder what Nikola Tesla would do."

"Or one of the world's great journalists," Duncan said. "I wonder what Dorothy Parker would do in this situation."

"And I wonder what Hammurabi, the ancient Babylonian, would do to help us," Klaus said. "He was one of the world's greatest researchers."

"Or the great poet Lord Byron," Isadora said.

"Shark," Sunny said, rubbing her teeth thoughtfully.

SHARK

"Being in each other's shoes seems like an extremely risky plan," Violet said. "If it fails, not only are we in trouble but you are as well, and who knows what Coach Genghis will do to you?"

This, as it turns out, was a question that would haunt the Baudelaires for quite some time, but the Quagmires gave it barely a thought.

mounting suspeeeeeennnnsssseeee

If you've ever dressed up for Halloween or attended a masquerade, you know that there is a certain thrill to wearing a disguise-a thrill that is half excitement and half danger.

AW YEA HERE WE GO

I once attended one of the famed masked balls hosted by the duchess of Winnipeg, and it was one of the most exciting and dangerous evenings of my life.

He says “once,” right, so it’s probably the same one in UA? 

The moment I entered the Grand Ballroom, I felt as if Lemony Snicket had disappeared. I was wearing clothes I had never worn before-a scarlet cape made of silk and a vest embroidered with gold thread and a skinny black mask-and it made me feel as if I were a different person. And because I felt like a different person, I dared to approach a woman I had been forbidden to approach for the rest of my life. She was alone on the veranda-the word "veranda" is a fancy term for a porch made of polished gray marble-and costumed as a dragonfly, with a glittering green mask and enormous silvery wings. As my pursuers scurried around the party, trying to guess which guest was me, I slipped out to the veranda and gave her the message I'd been trying to give her for fifteen long and lonely years. "Beatrice," I cried, just as the scorpions spotted me, "Count Olaf is--"

I cannot go on. It makes me weep to think of that evening, and of the dark and desperate times that followed, and in the meantime I'm sure you are curious what happened to the Baudelaire orphans and the Quagmire triplets, after dinner that evening at Prufrock Prep.

Lemony, your sudden pauses torment me beyond speech. TELL ME WHAT YOU SAID 

also let’s see if he hasn’t seen her since they parted ways that would put “fifteen years” around the time of the books, right, since violet is fourteen now? like, i think (although this is based on timeline stuff i never really got into the reasoning behind) we know lemony was in contact with beatrice up to the same year b&b went to the island, and that was right before violet was born, so.. 

Isadora and Duncan Quagmire simply did not look very much like Violet and Klaus Baudelaire. Duncan 's eyes were of a different color from Klaus's, and Isadora had different hair from Violet's, even if it was tied up in a similar way. Being triplets, the Quagmires were the exact same height, but Violet was taller than Klaus because she was older, and there was no time to make small stilts for Isadora to mimic this height difference. But it wasn't really these small physical details that made the disguise so unconvincing. It was the simple fact that the Baudelaires and the Quagmires were different people, and a hair ribbon, a pair of glasses, and some shoes couldn't turn them into one another any more than a woman disguised as a dragonfly can actually take wing and escape the disaster awaiting her.

WEH,

"I know!" Violet said. She leaned forward and put her hand on Duncan 's chest, running her fingers along his thick wool sweater until she found what she was looking for-a loose thread. Carefully, she pulled, unraveling the sweater slightly until she had a good long piece of yarn. Then she snapped it off and tied one end around the bag of flour. The other end she handed to Duncan . "This should do it," she said. "Sorry about your sweater."

they’re cute, but also, as a knitter, this makes me want 2 die 

"If we never see-" Violet stopped, swallowed, and began again. "If something goes wrong- "

Duncan took Violet's hands and looked right at her. Violet saw, behind Klaus's glasses, the serious look in Duncan 's wide eyes. "Nothing will go wrong," he said firmly, though of course he was wrong at that very moment. "Nothing will go wrong at all. We'll see you in the morning, Baudelaires."

GOD LEMONY LEAVE ME ALONE 

i can’t wait for the tv adaptation of this to murder me

It was a thrill that I have never felt in my life, and it was a thrill that the Baudelaires did not feel very often. But as the morning sun began to shine, the Baudelaire orphans felt the thrill of thinking your plan might work after all, and that perhaps they would eventually be as safe and happy as the evenings they remembered.

It was a thrill that I have never felt in my life

...........

"Excellent idea!" Nero said. "What a wonderful story this is! And then what happened?"

"Well, at first it seemed like I'd kicked a big hole in the baby," Genghis said, his eyes shining, "which seemed lucky, because Sunny was a terrible athlete and it would have been a blessing to put her out of her misery."

dgjdfjgfgdfgh

"That's what I said," Genghis said and leaned so close to the Baudelaires that all they could see were his shiny eyes and the crooked curve of his wicked mouth. "Those two Quagmires will whisk and whisk until they are simply whisked away."

*^* don’t make dreadful puns at me

"I'm afraid I cannot take off my running shoes," Coach Genghis said, taking a step toward the door. "I need them."

"Need them?" Nero asked. "For what?"

Coach Genghis took a long, long look at the three Baudelaires and smiled a terrible, toothy grin. "For running, of course," he said, and ran out the door.

>:U >:U

"No!" Klaus cried and grabbed the door handle. Back and forth, Klaus and Olaf's associate tugged on the door, forcing it halfway open and halfway shut.

"Klaus!" Duncan cried, from behind Isadora. "Listen to me, Klaus! If anything goes wrong-"

"Nothing will go wrong," Klaus promised, pulling on the car door as hard as he could. "You'll be out of here in a second!"

"If anything goes wrong," Duncan said again, "there's something you should know. When we were researching the history of Count Olaf, we found out something dreadful!"

"We can talk about this later," Klaus said, struggling with the door.

"Look in the notebooks!" Isadora cried. "The-" The first powder-faced woman put her hand over Isadora's mouth so she couldn't speak. Isadora turned her head roughly and slipped from the woman's grasp. "The-" The powdery hand covered her mouth again.

"Hang on!" Klaus called desperately. "Hang on!"

"Look in the notebooks! V.F.D.!" Duncan screamed, but the other woman's powdery hand covered his mouth before he could continue.

WOW THE REVERSAL OF THE “NOTHING WILL GO WRONG” BIT FROM BEFORE IS VERY UPSETTING

Finally-as, I'm sorry to say, Count Olaf forced the Quagmires into puppy costumes so he could sneak them onto the airplane without anyone noticing-the Baudelaires cried themselves out and just sat on the lawn together in weary silence.

kdfgjkdfjgfg

A morning breeze blew through the campus of Prufrock Preparatory School , rustling the brown lawn and knocking against the stone arch with the motto printed on it. "Memento Mori"-"Remember you will die." The Baudelaire orphans looked up at the motto and vowed that before they died, they would solve this dark and complicated mystery that cast a shadow over their lives.

Damn!! The last few endings were at least.. SORT OF, RELATIVELY upbeat!!

LEMONY SNICKET first received his education from public schools and private tutors, and then vice versa. He has been hailed as a brilliant scholar, discredited as a brilliant fraud, and mistaken for a much taller man on several occasions. Mr. Snicket's researching skills are currently and devoutly concentrated on the plight of the Baudelaire orphans, published serially by HarperCollins.

lemony snicket: a brilliant fraud

(jk i love him) 

[eccacia]

wonderful you came by [part 15]

Summary: Caitlin’s a no-nonsense science major. Barry’s the quintessential charming star athlete. When they’re paired off and forced to interact in class, Caitlin’s determined to resist his charms, but Barry’s also pretty determined to get under her skin… It all boils down to a battle between head and heart, and Caitlin’s not one to give in to her heart so easily. [College AU]

Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, or read on ff.net

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I don’t own The Flash. The article that Barry cites here is called “What Is Nothing?” by Fraser Cain from phys.org.

One of the most important things that Caitlin’s father had taught her was the discipline of getting rid of a bad habit. He’d taught her that it wasn’t enough to drop the habit cold turkey: if change was to be sustainable and permanent, the old habit had to be dropped and be immediately replaced by a better habit. For instance, if she wanted to stop watching TV, she couldn’t just spend the rest of the hour avoiding the TV—she had to do something else, like read the encyclopedia.

It was with this logic that Caitlin resolved to excise Barry Allen from her mental life. It did not do to merely stop thinking about him, because it was impossible to stop thinking about him by sheer willpower; so instead, she filled her day with work—with outlining and practicing for the orals, with summarizing journal articles for her thesis, with drafting the next post-lab report—which successfully crowded her mind, so that there was no room for Barry Allen at all.

She had come to this course of action the next morning, after a good night’s rest and after the alcohol had been flushed out of her system. She hadn’t been in a state of mind to think things through the night before—she was too confused and distraught, and her mind was muddled with emotion—but in the light of day, with some distance from Barry, she was finally able to evaluate the recent events with startling clarity.

It seemed that her null hypothesis regarding Barry Allen—that he did not harbor romantic feelings for her—was disproven by that kiss, as a kiss was the pinnacle of romantic feeling. But upon reevaluation of her hypothesis, she realized that a fatal error had occurred in her reasoning. She realized that it didn’t matter if her hypothesis was proven or disproven, because the underlying rationale of her investigation was faulty. It was similar to testing a hypothesis like “There is a significant positive relationship between the width of one’s hand span and the age of one’s maternal grandmother.” The numbers could indeed show that those with wider hand spans also had older maternal grandmothers, but the study itself was irrelevant. Similarly, her hypothesis assumed that it was important to be considered Barry Allen’s object of affection, which implied that romance was a worthwhile endeavor, when, in fact, it was not.

And the reason why it wasn’t worthwhile was simple: Love was temporary insanity. That was by far the most logical explanation for why she—she who was logical, clear-headed, intolerant of frivolity, unseduced by narratives of romantic love—had suddenly fallen for Barry in a span of two weeks, and why she’d found herself doing things that she would never have done, such as spending three hours on the phone, or singing onstage, or dancing with abandon in the midst of a sweaty throng, or leaning in to kiss someone that she barely knew.

In line with that, she realized that Saturday night contained all the necessary conditions to short-circuit reasoning. The context of a party simultaneously created an atmosphere of wild abandon and disabled the tools for rational thought: one is unable to see clearly when one’s vision is assaulted by the bright, blinking lights; one can hardly hear oneself think above the aggressive beat of the music; and, once inebriated, one is unable to wield logic at all.

And, during the party, when Barry had called her onstage to sing with him, she was placed in a context in which it was impossible for her to say no without dire social consequences—rather than to step off the stage, be booed by the crowd, and be labelled a killjoy, she was inclined to take the path of least resistance, which was to simply join him. Their dancing together had also been a function of context: after the sing-off, people were pulling friends and significant others onto the dance floor, and they, conforming to the crowd, had also moved to the dance floor. It was part of the script of a party to dance; it was not part of the script of a party to have a clear-headed discussion on the implications of him naming her as his partner for the sing-off.

That kiss was similarly manufactured by the demands of context. The open balcony under the starry night sky was a favorite setting of the romantic imagination, and with good reason: she suspected that standing under the vast night sky made people feel small and insignificant, and, faced with the overwhelming threat of their insignificance, they naturally gravitated to others, fiercely wanting the other to affirm their significance, wanting to be loved and known in order to save themselves from the reality that they were adrift and alone, a speck of dust on a piece of rock suspended in empty space. In fact, two of her most ill-informed decisions—deciding that she liked Barry, and leaning in to kiss him—were made under the night sky. Had they been around people in the light of day, in a sober setting like the library, such things would never have happened.

In any case, she would allow no more of this nonsense in her life. It was absurd to believe that this new self, this Caitlin-with-Barry self that had been forged in a mere two weeks, could overshadow the self she’d been for over twenty years; it then followed that the new self was a falsehood that had to be discarded, and the self she’d always been—the logical, clear-headed, impervious-to-romance self—was her true self, the self she had to maintain and protect. And, in order to do that, she had to cut Barry Allen off. It was regrettable, but it was necessary. Sometimes, to halt the progress of a disease, it wasn’t enough to scrape away the infected flesh; sometimes, it was necessary to amputate the entire limb.

She resolved to stand by her decision until his persistence waned and until he realized, as she had, that his energies were better directed elsewhere. She, for one, could focus on her career, as she had always intended, and he could focus on his transition into Forensic Science.

It was the most logical decision, and one that would benefit them both. It was, she truly believed, for the best.

Monday, 7:07 PM

Hi Caitlin, it’s me again. I don’t want to sound like a stalker or anything by spamming you with voicemail, so… just tell me to stop if you really want me to stop, okay? I swear I will. But if you won’t say anything, I’m just going to assume that your silence means, Yes, Barry, you can be as annoying as you possibly can. —Why, Caitlin, it’s my pleasure to serve up my specialty. In fact, this is your first daily dose of annoyingness, served fresh from the kissable mouth of CCU Cutie Barry Allen—ah, crap, Wally just heard me saying that. Crap. Now he’s laughing his butt off. Can you hear him? Here, I’ll move closer. He laughs like a hyena. It’s hideous. I don’t think you’ve ever met him, but I hope you will sometime… Anywaaay, uh, I called to let you know that I’m sorry, and I’m not giving up. That’s all for now. I’m going to dig myself a hole if I keep going while Wally’s listening, so call me if you want to talk, I guess. Bye.

Swipe. Delete.

. . .

Tuesday, 10:51 AM

Hi Caitlin. So, uh, welcome to day two of being annoyed by your local cutie. Heh, I can already imagine you wrinkling your brow and trying not to smile but failing not to smile, so you end up biting your lip instead, and you’d say, “Who’re the idiots that put you on the CCU Cutie list”—I’m number eight out of fifty, in case you’re wondering, not to toot my own horn—okay, fine, totally tooting it—“and don’t those idiots know that they’re just ratcheting up your insufferability index?!” Do you remember saying that, insufferability index? I know I should be insulted, but I usually end up flattered instead, knowing that you tailor your insults to me. I like to think of it as you showing your love. Although I’d still prefer compliments... ahem, ahem. Anyway, um… wow, I’ve spent half of this voicemail talking about what you might say. It’s… not as fun talking to imaginary Caitlin than it is talking to real Caitlin. So… give me a call? Or leave a message. Whenever you’re ready. Bye.

Swipe. Delete.

Tuesday, 8:23 PM

Hey, so I just got your e-mail. I’m… kind of bummed that you wanna study separately for the orals, but… if that’s what you want, I guess. Don’t worry, I’ll do my part. It’ll be harder to study without you slave-driving me, but I won’t let you down. I can’t believe I miss you slave-driving me, heh. Anyway, um… what else… Oh yeah, I’m free next Saturday for the make-up class and the STAR Labs tour. It’s so cool that we’re having our make-up class at STAR Labs. I’m almost glad he cancelled class on Monday. Dr. Wells is the best, isn’t he? …Anyway, uh, look, I know I could’ve just e-mailed you back, but… I don’t know, e-mail’s just not our thing, you know? If that makes any sense. Yeah… that’s all for now. You know the drill. See you Thursday for the orals.

Swipe. Delete.

. . .

Wednesday, 1:34 PM

Happy third-day-sary of being annoyed by me! Er, I wasn’t sure if it’s a cause for celebration, but I guess I’m feeling pretty optimistic. I mean, at least you haven’t told me to stop talking yet, right? …Anyway, awhile ago, just for kicks, I typed “Is nothing really nothing?” in Google. Not sure if you remember, but you told me the last time we talked that whatever happened between us was nothing, and nothing is nothing so it’s smart of me to pin my hopes on it. So I thought, Is nothing really nothing? and I figured it’d be fun to ask Google. Anyway, Google has this to say about nothing: “There are physicists like Lawrence Krauss that argue the ‘universe from nothing’, really means ‘the universe from a potentiality’. Which comes down to if you add all the mass and energy in the universe, all the gravitational curvature, everything… it looks like it all sums up to zero. So it is possible that the universe really did come from nothing. And if that’s the case, then ‘nothing’ is everything we see around us, and ‘everything’ is nothing.” Neat, huh? Nothing is everything. I know you super disapprove of me typing the whole question into the search bar instead of just typing the keywords, but I swear I didn’t get it from Yahoo Answers. It’s from a site called phys.org, which sounds pretty legit to me. Anyway, see you tomorrow for orals. I studied like hell for it, and you study enough for the both of us, so we should do great. I… I’m actually looking forward to it. Not the orals, but seeing you. So… see you tomorrow. Bye.

Swipe. Delete.

“Cait? Cait.”

Caitlin startled when she felt a hand on her wrist, gently lifting it from the keyboard of her laptop. She turned to see Felicity giving her a worried look.

“You’ve been pressing the spacebar,” she said.

“Oh.” Caitlin glanced at her screen. She had begun the post-lab document at page 1. She was now on page 15, and all the pages in between were blank.

“Are you okay?” Felicity ventured. “Did something happen between you and Barry?”

“No.” She highlighted the blank pages and pressed delete.

Felicity sighed. “Cait, you haven’t been talking to us since Sunday, so something obviously happened on Saturday night. Did he hurt you? Because if he did, I swear I’ll—”

“No.” She reread the paragraph she’d written so far. “We’re fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Felicity pursed her lips. “Cait, please. Talk to me. You’re overworking, you haven’t been sleeping, and you have lapses like this, when you don’t even realize that you’re spacing out.”

“I’m fine.”

“Cait—”

“Felicity! God, stop!” she snapped. “I’m fine, okay? I just, I have a lot of deadlines coming up, alright?”

Felicity recoiled.

“Okay,” she said, with barely concealed hurt. “Okay. Fine. Whatever.”

She turned away and slinked back to her desk.

Caitlin concentrated on her screen, trying to ignore the pain in her chest.

The next day Caitlin woke with a start. She blinked a few times at the light streaming in through her windows, peeled away a piece of paper that had stuck to her cheek, and shot out of her chair to get ready for the orals.

Or, rather, she stumbled out of her chair, felt around for the reviewers on her desk, and shuffled around the room to gather her other things—towel, clothes, shoes, backpack—as if blind, hitting the corners of tables and countertops as she went. Despite her astounding stamina for studying, Caitlin was not immune to the effects of sleep deprivation, and after totaling only six hours of sleep for the past three days, her mind was foggy, her eyes were dry, and her stomach (also owing to an overdose of caffeine and a diet of crackers and instant noodles) roiled with acid. She felt like either wanting to vomit or wanting to die.

But she was fine. This was fine. This was familiar. At the very least, her physical unease consumed such a significant portion of her attention that she was unable to obsessively rehearse all the worst-case scenarios in her mind, as she usually did.

She took the long route to the science and engineering complex, which ensured that she would meet less people along the way, and silently recited reagent names and reaction mechanisms as she went. Benedict’s Test. Positive results: orange to brick red. Indicates the presence of sugar. Negative results: no change in color. Indicates the absence of sugar. She paused at a vendo machine for some coffee and downed it in one gulp, grimacing when it scalded her tongue. Molisch’s Test. Positive results: purple appearing at the junction of the two layers of liquids. Indicates the presence of carbohydrates. Negative results: no purple at the junction of the liquids. Indicates the absence of carbohydrates. She took the stairs to the fourth floor, and then turned to the row of rooms that professors used for consultations and oral exams. They were usually occupied towards the end of the semester, but right now there was only one occupied room with the light on and the door ajar.

Caitlin crushed her coffee cup, tossed it into a nearby trash bin, and took a deep breath. Fifteen minutes, she told herself. She only had to endure fifteen minutes of this—and of Barry Allen—and she was free. She could do this.

When she entered the room, she immediately recognized the outline of Barry’s back, seated in front of Dr. Wells’s wide wooden desk, and Dr. Wells himself sat across him with his arms folded. They seemed to be in the middle of a conversation, but when she slipped inside, Barry turned around quickly and shot her a grin.

She ignored him. She put on her deadpan mask and hoped that it wouldn’t crack.

Dr. Wells smiled at her. “Ms. Snow, nice of you to join us,” he said, as she took a seat across him and beside Barry. “Well, since you’re both here now, why don’t we start?”

“Ready when you are, Dr. Wells,” Barry said.

Caitlin merely nodded. Her anxiety was building now; her palms were beginning to sweat and her throat felt dry. She absolutely hated oral exams and anything that resembled it—presentations, panel interviews, defenses, anything at all that required her to speak, to be judged for each word she spoke, and to witness the judgment passed on her through the facial expressions (or lack thereof) of the professor or the panel even as she was still speaking. It was an absolute nightmare. The only time when she didn’t feel that way was when she was drunk—her drunk alter ego enjoyed being the center of attention, for reasons she didn’t want to contemplate—but she couldn’t very well show up drunk during an oral exam or a panel interview. Of course, she’d gotten better at hiding her fear as she went through college, but the beginning was still the worst part.

“Alright, let’s start with something easy,” Dr. Wells said. “Ms. Snow, enumerate the tests for carbohydrates and their indicators for positive results.”

This was easy. She knew this. She’d rehearsed for it just a few moments ago, and she also distinctly remembered summarizing the tests in table format for their post-laboratory report. She remembered inputting each entry and polishing the format of the table—bolding the headings, alternating the row colors, affixing the caption—and the memory remained so vivid in her mind that she could recite the answer as if she were reading directly from that table. She had this. She had this.

But when she opened her mouth to speak, no sound came. She was paralyzed. The table was still etched in her mind’s eye, but fear constricted her throat and scrambled the words she’d intended to say. Oh God, she thought, her hands fisting in the fabric of her jeans, not now not now not now—

A second passed. Then two. When three seconds crawled by, the silence became tense, and Caitlin felt all the more the crushing pressure of having to say something, if only to fill the silence; but anxiety and humiliation collapsed her airways, bound her mouth in a steel trap. She felt like she literally could not speak.

Beside her, Barry cleared his throat.

“Mind if I go first, Dr. Wells?” he said, careful not to look at her. He continued lightly, “I’d like to volunteer to answer all the easy questions before they run out.”

Dr. Wells shifted his piercing blue gaze from her to Barry, and he leaned back against his chair with a slight smile. “I can’t guarantee you any more ‘easy questions,’ Mr. Allen, but go ahead.”

Barry grinned and launched into his answer, completely at ease as he talked—so much so, in fact, that he even made a joke while he was at it. When he finished, he pretended to bow to an imaginary audience, and Dr. Wells was shaking his head in barely disguised amusement.

He paused to write something on a sheaf of stapled papers, and then looked up at Caitlin again.

“Ms. Snow?” he said expectantly. “Ready for the next question?”

Her breath caught in her throat. No, she wasn’t. She felt like fading away from the scene. It was one of her defense mechanisms—during stress, she shut down. She disengaged. She was there-not-there. Each passing second with her fear felt like a knife-tip grating down the notched bones of her spine—

She was so caught up in her internal struggle that she startled when she felt something warm cover her hand.

What the—

Her eyes flickered down, and she saw that Barry was holding her hand.

During an oral exam.

In front of Dr. Wells.

She was so livid that she couldn’t move. What was he thinking? Scratch that—was he even thinking? She was going to kill him—

But, no, wait—he wasn’t really holding her hand, per se—he was only running his fingers over her clenched fists, cautiously coaxing them to open. She hadn’t realized she’d been clenching them so tightly that the muscles were strained from the tension. When she finally unclenched them, he quickly withdrew his hand, and continued rambling to Dr. Wells—he’d been managing a conversation this whole time—as if nothing had happened.  

She blinked and took a slow, deep breath. She felt like she was coming out of her stupor, as if unclenching her fists had also uncoiled the anxiety that had gripped her body.

“Mr. Allen,” she dimly registered Dr. Wells saying, “most people answer after they’ve been asked a question, not before.”

“Just wanna show off how much I studied,” Barry said, grinning.

Dr. Wells shook his head and turned to her. “I have to apologize for pairing you off with him, Ms. Snow.”

“Hey! I resent that,” Barry protested. “I’m a pretty decent lab partner.”

“Perhaps ‘highly distractible’ is more appropriate.”

“But I can’t help it, Dr. Wells,” he said. “It’s just how I am. I get really excited about anything science.”

“Ah, Mr. Allen,” Dr. Wells said, his eyes shifting briefly to her, “I don’t think science is the only thing you get excited about.”

Oh my God, does he mean—she didn’t even want to continue that train of thought, but when she saw that Barry, for once, had been struck speechless, she supposed the implication was clear. Oh, God. This was embarrassing. Had he seen Barry reach for her hand? But it was a wide, high desk—he couldn’t have seen it—and Barry had been so discreet that she hadn’t even seen him move—

“Dr. Wells,” she blurted out, just to end the humiliation, “I believe it’s my turn…”

“So it is.” His usually stern features softened into a reassuring look. “Don’t be nervous, Ms. Snow. This isn’t so different from reciting in class or conversing with the panel in open forums.”

Caitlin swallowed and nodded.

“Ms. Snow, can you tell me why Molisch’s test for carbohydrates yields a purple color? An explanation of the reaction mechanism will do.”

She took a discreet breath. She could do this. From the corner of her eye she could see Barry glancing at her out of concern, no doubt readying another excuse to answer for her if she blanked out, and somehow the thought that he had her back quelled the anxiety rising in her throat.

“Molisch’s test determines the presence of carbohydrates by dehydrating them in the presence of sulfuric acid,” she began. She spoke with some hesitance at first, but as she continued speaking, her confidence rose, and she forgot her fear.

When she finished, there was a faint smile on Dr. Wells’s face.

“Good,” he said. “Very thoroughly explained. Now, Mr. Allen, the third question…”

While he briefly consulted his notes, Barry turned to her and smiled with a mixture of pride and relief, but she quickly turned away. She turned away because guilt had crept into the void that anxiety had carved, and this guilt—the origin of which she could not yet name—made her unable to look at him for the rest of the exam.

. . .

The rest of the orals was a breeze. Caitlin told herself that she could have gotten over her fear without Barry’s help—she’d always managed (to her own surprise) to pull through those first few minutes—but there was another part of her that said that wasn’t exactly true. When before, anxiety seized her afresh each time a new question was asked, this time, right after that first question, she felt like she’d entered a state of flow, like the question-answer sequences had already been programmed in her mind and all she had to do was to produce the answer when prompted by the question. That thoughtful gesture of his had played no small part in helping her get over her fear.

She felt, then, that the situation obliged her to thank him—if not the situation, then common courtesy, at the very least, required her to reciprocate his act of kindness with gratitude. Yet, when he’d beamed at her after they’d stepped out of the room, she’d brushed past him as if he didn’t exist; and to add insult to injury, she’d even kept her eyes trained on a spot in the distance to avoid seeing the naked hurt on his face.

Caitlin knew, objectively, that a curt “thank you” would have been no big deal in any other scenario. But this scenario was not any other scenario, and in this case a “thank you” wouldn’t be a mere expression of gratitude: a “thank you” would also be the first crack in her silence, and if she allowed that crack, she would render herself helpless against his efforts to worm his way back into her affections. A “thank you” in this case was also thus an implicit “I’m sorry for ignoring you” and “I want to talk to you again”—both of which she could not allow herself to say, because if her campaign to dissuade Barry from ever speaking to her again her was to be successful, she could allow no exceptions.

But driving him away with silence wasn’t without its consequences—she felt guilty for repaying his kindness so coldly. Normally, one could assuage one’s guilt by approaching the wronged party to make amends, but she already established that she could not approach him, so she felt doubly worse—from being unable to thank him, and from being unable to apologize to him for not thanking him.

With this guilt, too, came shame at the person she had to be in order to reject him so completely. She’d been afraid of the person she was becoming when she was with him, but now she was appalled at who she was becoming in order to drive him away. It seemed that Barry’s kindness only magnified her heartlessness; his gentle persistence, her haste in cutting him off; his unwavering thoughtfulness, her ruthless excision of him from her mental life.

She sighed. Why did he have to be so nice, anyway? She would have welcomed his anger and his resentment, because those would have made sense; but instead he was kind, and she was completely disarmed by his kindness. It was a sincere, pure-hearted kindness at that, without any undercurrent of manipulating her into guilt. But then again, that wasn’t Barry’s style, and come to think of it, she couldn’t imagine him angry and resentful… If she were to become the cause such ugly, blistering emotions in someone as good-natured as he, she was going to feel like a monster.

The least she could hope for, she thought as she settled down in her next class, was for him to give up soon. That way she didn’t have to keep hurting him—or rather, she didn’t have to keep hurting them both.

. . .

Still, that night, as she lay alone in her dark room—Felicity had been avoiding her for the past few days, and she knew she deserved it but she was yet too ashamed to apologize—she placed her phone on her pillow, beside her head. As usual, he’d left a voicemail, half an hour after the orals.

She allowed it to play.

Hey. Are you okay? I knew you told me you didn’t like orals, but I didn’t know you were that terrified of them. I hope you’re okay now. Sorry for holding your hand, I know you’re still iffy with the whole touch thing, but I didn’t know how else to comfort you. I’m really glad you got over it, though. Actually, everything turned out great in the end, don’t you think? We made quite the pair, with me slaying all the easy questions and you slaying all the hard ones, heh. Well, anyway, that’s all for now, I have to meet up with Coach. He’s been really hard on all of us lately since tomorrow’s the finals. It’ll be great if you could come watch, or even if you could drop by to say hi. I really miss you. Call me or message me or something, you know the drill. Bye.

His voice dissolved into the silence.

Caitlin swiped left, and her finger hovered above the bright red Delete button. But, right before she pressed it, the memory of his hand over hers during the orals flitted through her mind, and she shut her eyes and took a shaky breath.

She was just… so tired of this. She was so tired of resisting him, of constructing all these elaborate denials and rationalizations and justifications. She knew that there were to be absolutely no exceptions, but…

She drew her phone close.

She played the voicemail again.

Hey. Are you okay? I knew you told me you didn’t like orals, but I didn’t know you were that terrified of them. I hope you’re okay now…

He lost by 0.91 seconds.

To make up for her momentary lapse in resolve the night before, she’d adamantly avoided his meet, but she might as well have been there with the way she obsessively refreshed her Twitter feed; and, when she saw the headline “KCU’s Hunter Zolomon Bags First Place, Dethrones CCU’s Reigning Champ Barry Allen” an hour or so after the meet, she could hardly believe it.

He lost, she repeated, the thought sinking in. She could only imagine what he was feeling right now. He’d told her, during one of their phone calls, that he wanted to finish this season strong before quitting. “My heart’s not in it anymore,” he’d said, “but my ego is. Does that make sense? I mean, everyone was so proud of me when I won my first national meet. It was unbelievable. My mom and dad couldn’t stop telling their friends about it. For the first time in decades the track team finally got support from the school. Stores wanted to sponsor us. People were flocking to our meets. My teammates were so psyched, and Coach hadn’t smiled so much since his wife gave birth. It was… a pretty great feeling, I guess.” “You just like the attention,” she’d said, and he’d laughed. “Not denying that. But it’s really nice, you know, having started all that, making people proud. It makes me feel like I matter.”

But, she wondered now, if winning made him feel like he mattered, what did losing make him feel?

Disturbed by her own question, she put her phone aside and stared at the articles open on her laptop, willing her focus to return, but she couldn’t bring herself to get back to work. Guilt nagged at her conscience even more insistently now. He’d held her hand when she’d frozen up in fear during the orals, and now that he was the one who needed comfort, she was refusing to be there for him.

She knew that she couldn’t afford to make any more exceptions, but…

She dug the heels of her hand into her eyes and sighed in frustration. Sure, she could ignore a happy, cheery Barry, the Barry who sent her all those chipper voicemails, but can she really just ignore a sad, hurting Barry…?

The thought of him like that had her rising from her desk. Vaguely, she cursed herself for making that first exception last night, because now she’d set herself on the slippery slope of exception-making; but that sentiment wasn’t strong enough to stop her from heading out her door. She didn’t even think to message him to ask him where he was—it seemed her feet moved on their own accord, following the invisible trail that led to him. She knew, without knowing how she knew, where he was going to be.

. . .

She did find him there, at the Observatory.

It was sunset, like the last time they were here, and the soft light cast a warm glow on his skin. He was sitting on the ground, leaning back on his hands, silent and unmoving as a statue.

She watched him from a distance. She watched the wind tug at his hair, watched him turn his face to the dying sun and stare blankly at the smattering of stores, at the specks of people moving mutely below.

Minutes passed. Still, she remained behind a copse of trees, standing on a patch of flat ground in the midst of gnarled roots, too afraid to approach. She didn’t know what to say. She’d never been good with words, and she’d never been good at filling silences, and she didn’t know what to offer as solace. Should she begin with the bland reassurance, as most people did, that everything was going to be okay? Should she ask him how he was feeling? Should she make him laugh, offer him a hug…?

Lost as she was in her thoughts, she only dimly registered the crunch of leaves underfoot. Barry looked to his right, and, more out of instinct than curiosity, she mimicked his movement and turned to look.

At first, Caitlin couldn’t make out the person’s features, as her profile was cast against the light; but as she neared, she caught sight of a head of blond hair and a flash of straight, white teeth.

“Hey,” she said. “Thought you’d be here.”

“Patty, hey,” Barry said, and Caitlin’s world stilled.

Patty. Patty, the girl with the dimpled smile who went to all his meets, the one everyone believed he was with. How did Patty know that he’d be here? Had he brought her here, too? But how could he bring her here? Wasn’t the Observatory their place—?

Wait—why did she even think of the Observatory as theirs? In the first place, there was no ‘they’ to speak of; they weren’t even together! And wasn’t this place Barry’s safe haven? Since he was the one who’d discovered it, didn’t he have the right to share it with whomever he chose?

Caitlin took a deep breath, trying to stamp down the unfamiliar burn of jealousy in her chest.

“Can I sit here?” Patty said.

He shrugged. “Sure.”

Patty folded into a sitting position, the movement supple and fluid. “So, how’re you feeling?”

The question echoed numbly in Caitlin’s mind. It was the same question she’d thought of asking him when she’d first seen the headline, the question she would have asked him had she approached him first.

“Pretty bummed, I guess,” Barry said after a lengthy pause. He exhaled. “I knew I was going to quit anyway, but I didn’t know how badly I wanted to quit a winner… Does that make sense?”

Caitlin swallowed the rising bitterness in her throat. Does that make sense—he’d always asked her that whenever he shared something serious and personal about himself, and it had always seemed an intimate phrase to Caitlin: in that question he was allowing himself to be vulnerable, to lay bare his need to be wholly understood. It had never occurred to her that he also used it while speaking to other people.

While speaking to Patty.

She felt doubly betrayed—Patty also knew about this place, and she was also privy to this more vulnerable side of him, as she was—but what, exactly, had been betrayed? Why was she the one who felt betrayed, when she’d cut him off first?

Patty nodded and touched his shoulder. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

Her eyes lingered on that touch. Another small intimacy.

Her fingers curled and scraped the bark of the tree, and she had the sudden, violent urge to tear it apart—and then she caught herself in horror. What was jealousy turning her into? She did not recognize herself in these feelings, these thoughts; jealousy was making her illogical, melodramatic, and it was extremely unlike her.

She closed her eyes and willed herself to calm down, and when she did she continued to watch them. She knew she shouldn’t be eavesdropping on this conversation—the second time it was happening, it seemed—but she found herself unable to leave. She just… had to know. She had to know what everyone else saw in them. She would leave, of course, when things became too private, and while she didn’t want to imagine how private things could get, a part of her also wanted to see whatever intimacy might unfold between them. It would hurt, of course, but at least the hurt would be allayed by the grim triumph of knowing that if he had such intimate moments with Patty, then he didn’t really like her, which rendered her decision to cut him off all the more justified.

“But you know,” Patty was saying, “I don’t think people will remember you as the guy who broke CCU’s winning streak. They’ll remember you for putting CCU on the map.”

He scoffed, but Patty insisted, “No, really. We’ve never been known for sports, but since you joined the track team, everyone’s suddenly crazy about track. School spirit’s the strongest during your meets. That’s really something to be proud of, you know?”

“…I guess.”

“Hey, cheer up,” she said, bumping shoulders with him. “Look, I’m not supposed to tell you this, but the whole block’s waiting for you at Jitters. We’re throwing you a party, and it’d be nice if you could show up, being the guest of honor and all.”

“I don’t know,” he said, reluctant. “I’m not really hungry.”

“No way. Is that really you, Mr. ‘I Never Say No to Food’ Allen?”

He cracked a smile, and she continued, “Come on. You can have a whole tray of lasagna to yourself.”

He was grinning now. “Are you bribing me to attend my own party, Spivot?”

“Bribing? Who said we were paying for your lasagna?”

He laughed, and Patty smiled and stood, mockingly offering him a hand after she did.

Caitlin felt faint. She couldn’t bear to watch this. It had been a mistake to assume that she would only be hurt by a dramatic show of intimacy, because watching them during those few ordinary moments hurt like hell, too. They just made so much sense together—they had the same sunny good-naturedness, and they carried themselves with the same ease around people. She could never be like that. She couldn’t have comforted him the way Patty had, and it would never have occurred to her that, for someone who loved people as much as he did, he would have been cheered by a party, by being with good friends…

She whirled around, hurt and confused and keen to leave; but she’d forgotten she was standing on the only patch of flat ground in the middle of thick, gnarled roots, so when her toe snagged under one, she tripped and fell with a barely contained yelp.

Barry and Patty fell silent.

“What was that?” Patty said.

“Don’t know,” Barry said. “Must’ve been the wind…”

Caitlin winced, hoping they wouldn’t see her. Great. Just great. Why did she have to be cursed with such terrible bodily coordination? And what was it with this bleeding tree root? Couldn’t it have at least allowed her to walk away with dignity? She knew it was wrong to take her frustration out on it, but she viciously tore it away from her foot anyway.

“No, really, I think there’s someone—”

Caitlin froze at how close their voices suddenly were. Shit, now she couldn’t move until they passed by. It was getting dark—she had that on her side, at least—and she just hoped to God that they wouldn’t look too closely between the trees.

“Nah,” Barry said, turning to face Patty, “no one else really knows about this pla—”

And then he froze, his gaze landing right on her.

Oh shit.

He quickly placed his hands on Patty’s shoulders, steering her so that her back was turned to Caitlin, and said, “Look, why don’t you go ahead to Jitters?”

“What? Why?” Patty said.

Caitlin quickly got to her feet—wincing slightly when she put weight on the foot that had caught in the root—and turned to the opposite direction. He’d already seen her, anyway, so it was best to get the hell out while he was still talking to Patty.

“…need a little more time alone before I face everyone…” he was saying, his voice growing faint. She moved as quietly as she could, like she did when she first made her way up, and she was thankful for the night breeze that rustled the leaves and disguised the sound of her footsteps.

She glanced back to assess her progress. She saw Patty heading down the more well-worn path, and Barry… heading right towards her.

She cursed inwardly, unable to believe her terrible luck. She had the urge to break into a run, but it was already dark and she didn’t want to trip again… And besides, if she broke into a run, he would, too, and he could catch up to her in no time.

Damn it. She was trapped.

“Cait,” he said, his voice a lot nearer now, “wait, don’t go—”

She exhaled and turned to face him. A maelstrom of emotions roiled inside her, more violently now that she’d come face to face with its cause; but she held them under tight rein, and she willed her face into a blank mask.

He slowed when she turned, looking windswept and bewildered. “It really is you,” he murmured. “What’re you doing here?”

For a brief moment, she considered telling a lie, but she knew how easily he would see through it; there was simply no other believable excuse for her being here. She had no choice, then, but to tell the truth, and an irrational resentment welled inside her at this choicelessness, one that flattened her tone and blunted her words.

“I saw the tweets,” she said. “I’m sorry you lost.”

“Oh,” he said. “Uh… thanks.”

“Look, I have to go—”

“What time did you get here?” he said. They had spoken at the same time, but he chose to ignore what she just said, looking determined to steer the conversation. “How long have you been standing there?”

Caitlin’s face burned with humiliation. So he’d realized that she was eavesdropping. Another lie waited on the tip of her tongue—Just now, actually—but she couldn’t bring herself to say it, not when he was looking at her like that. “Long enough,” she said. And then, before she could stop it: “I overheard some parts of your conversation. I’m sorry.”

She thought he would have been mad, or at the very least annoyed, but instead he softened and took a cautious step towards her.

“I never brought her here,” he said.

Her breath caught in her throat; the maelstrom inside her surged, strained from the leash of her composure. He wasn’t supposed to say that. He was supposed to be annoyed or angry; he was supposed to throw his hands up in frustration; he was supposed to give up and walk away. Those reactions she could deal with, could categorize. But this? This was leading her into unknown territory, and she was afraid that if she stepped into it, she would find no solid ground beneath.

He continued, “I did mention it to her, because she once asked what my favorite place in campus was, but I never—”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said, willing her voice to remain even. “You’re free to bring whomever you want.”

“I know,” he said softly. “That’s why I brought you.”

The leash snapped. A flood of emotions assaulted her—first relief and hope, so strong that she wanted to move towards him, touch him, hold him and be held by him; but, only moments later, panic overpowered that—panic that she was no longer in control of the situation, that she was no longer in control of even herself; panic that she was standing on the precipice, on the verge of hurtling into something she would later regret. She could not allow herself this, she could not allow any emotional excess; she should not feel, else she could not think.

“Look,” she told him, gathering the remaining threads of her frayed resolve, “it was a mistake for me to come—”

“No, Cait, don’t do that—don’t shut me out again.” He sidestepped just as she turned away, so that she came face-to-face with him again, but she stubbornly refused to meet his gaze. “Please, can we talk?”

“We just did.”

“You know what I mean.”

“And you already know what I have to say,” she gritted out. “I’ve already said everything that needs to be said.”

“Then,” he said, “why are you here?”

Her airways constricted. Even if he’d said it so gently, she felt like she’d been disarmed and trapped. Because that was the real question, wasn’t it? Why, after all her efforts to push him away, did she still seek him out? Why did the idea of him hurting sadden her? Why was she so compelled to cheer him up, to be there for him? She knew she’d had an answer to that, one that contained unthreatening truths, but she couldn’t summon it to mind now. Instead the answer that flashed into her mind—that flashed and then branded itself there, so searing that she couldn’t unthink it—was the truth she was too afraid to face, let alone say aloud.

So instead she lashed out.

“I don’t know, okay?” she snapped. “I. Don’t. Know. I feel like I’m always fumbling around in the dark when it comes to you—I don’t have answers ninety percent of the time, and the ten percent of answers I do have, I’m not completely convinced of. So, please. Don’t. Ask.”

His gaze softened, and he drew closer to her, but she remained rigid, her spine cast in steel. “Is that so bad?” he said. “Not having all the answers?”

“Of course it is,” she said vehemently. “Nothing is ever complicated for you, so of course you wouldn’t understand—”

“I wouldn’t understand?” he said, incredulous. “Cait, I don’t have all the answers either, but you don’t see me running away—”

“I’m not running away,” she said, hands balling into fists, “I’m solving the problem once and for all!”

“How?” he said, raking his hair in frustration. “By completely ignoring me?”

“Yes!” she seethed. “But you don’t seem to be taking the hint—”

“No, you’re right, that part I don’t understand,” he said, his voice rising, his features contorting in confusion and anguish. “Tell me, Cait, what exactly does that solve?”

She opened her mouth, but suddenly all words fled her, withered under the fire in his eyes.

“Well? Enlighten me,” he said, the word twisting his mouth in bitter irony, and it was such an unfamiliar expression on him that her gut wrenched in horror. Had she really been the one to put that expression on his face? She thought she’d be able to handle his anger, but it seemed that it only weighed her down with the guilt of being its cause. But couldn’t dwell on that now—not when she had to take control of the situation, not when she had a fight to win. “Maybe then we can be on the same page.”

“I’d be wasting my breath,” she said tightly. “You wouldn’t understand.”

He stared at her in disbelief. “Then make me,” he said, his voice strained. “Make me understand your problem, Cait! I’m not a mind-reader!”

“My problem?” she bristled at the accusation in his tone; the blood rushed to her face, and the confusion, jealousy, and barely-leashed longing that she’d bottled and sealed finally burst and boiled over. “My problem is you! My problem is that you came along and threw my entire life off-course!” All rationality had fled her now, and she was running on the adrenaline of her anger. “Like I said, you wouldn’t understand. You’ve had crushes and girlfriends since middle school. I haven’t. It’s just not who I am. And I was perfectly fine with that.” Barry looked as if he were about to interject, but she couldn’t stop talking; the words rushed out of her in a raging torrent. “Actually, I was grateful for it, because it meant my work would never suffer from the unnecessary angst of romantic entanglements. My life was uncomplicated. All my efforts revolved around school and internships and scholarship programs, anything that could bring me closer to becoming a bioengineer. And for the most part, I was in control of everything in that world.”

She took a shaky breath. “But then you come along,” she accused with renewed vehemence, “and suddenly I’m not in control of anything. Everything’s incomprehensible. Every time you talk to me, it’s like you’re speaking in code. Every time a conundrum is solved, ten new ones appear.” The words burned like acid on her tongue. “My own feelings are incomprehensible to me. I’ve always been able to analyze them to death, but this time, the more I analyze, the more confused I get, and the stronger they become.”

His lips parted in surprise. “What do you—”

“So, Barry, tell me,” she said bitterly, her throat closing. “Tell me, how is it possible that in a span of two weeks, I’ve gone from being single-mindedly focused on building a career in bioengineering, to thinking of you every single moment of the day? How is it possible that I’ve gone from not being attracted to anyone, to liking you so much that I feel I’m going out of my mind?”

He stared at her, stunned.

The instant that last sentence fell from her lips, the invigorating haze of her anger cleared and left in its wake a cold dread that coiled in her stomach. Fuck, what did she just say? And why the hell did she have to go out and say it? She felt like she had just torn down her own defenses, and now she was standing in front of him, stripped of all her armor. Fuck, she hated this. She hated feeling so vulnerable.

“You like me,” he said in disbelief. And then, his lips stretched into a slow smile. “You like me.”

“Oh my God,” she breathed, wanting nothing more than to find a hole in the ground to bury her head in. If she could, she would have already raced back in time to take back everything she said, but instead she had to suffer the humiliating crush of the present. “That’s not the point—”

“No, Cait, I think that’s exactly the point,” he said. “Everything else is beside it.”

“You can’t call everything I’ve just said beside the point—”

“Okay, okay, you’re right, they’re not,” he quickly amended, holding both hands out in surrender to appease her. “What I meant was, can we start from this point?” He took a step closer, his eyes luminescent with hope. “Can we start from the fact that we both like each other and then figure out what happens from here?”

“I’ll tell you what happens from here,” she said through gritted teeth, trying to hold on to the last shreds of control that had so rapidly slipped from her hands. “We’ll go out on a few dates. You’ll find out that we’re not suited for each other. I’m too serious and uptight, and you’re too sunny and carefree. Everything that occurred over the past two weeks was exciting because of the novelty, but once the novelty wears off you’ll lose interest—”

“I’ll lose interest?” he said, drawing back in hurt. “Do you really think so little of me?”

“—and you’ll move on to someone else more suited to your personality.”

There was a beat of silence, and then comprehension dawned on his features.

“Like Patty, you mean?” he said.

“I’m not implying—”

His tone turned teasing. “Is that jealousy I’m hearing, Caitlin?”

She glared at him. “I’m just making a realistic assessment of the situation,” she said.

“Well, let me give you my realistic assessment of the situation,” he said. He was looking at her now with such tenderness that the steel in her spine had begun to melt; and before she could move away, he took her hands in his, just like he had during the orals; and he ran his fingers over hers, his touch warm and light and reassuring.

That was it, she was a goner. The last drop of resistance drained from her body. Deep down she knew that she had already lost—and she knew, even deeper down, that just maybe, she was glad to lose.

He slowly threaded his fingers through hers, his eyes trained on her, bright in the moonlight. “You have nothing to be jealous about,” he said, bringing up her hand and pressing a quick kiss onto her knuckles. The gesture struck her as so sweet and innocent that, even if she still had half her mind about her, she didn’t protest or pull away. He tugged on their joined hands to pull her even closer, and again she let him. She would never admit it to him—she would hardly even admit it to herself—but she was relieved to be so close to him again, after trying so hard to push him away.

His lips now ghosted the shell of her ear. “No one,” he said, with quiet resolution, “comes close to you.” He leaned his forehead against hers, and he was gazing at her through half-lidded eyes; his breath was warm on her skin, and it seemed that her world had narrowed to just him, in this moment, in the moonlit forest. “Look, I don’t have all the answers either,” he said softly. “Two weeks is a crazy-short amount time, but I’m already so in love with you I can barely breathe. I can’t explain it; all I know is that it is.”

A blush crept up her face. Her eyes fluttered close, and she swallowed, unable to speak; an unfamiliar happiness thrummed through her body, about to burst from her skin. She had never been schmaltzy or sentimental, but right now, she supposed she could make this exception for him.

“We don’t have to think about what’ll happen to us in a few months, or even after a few dates,” he said. “We can take it one day at a time, one moment at a time. At whatever pace you’d like.”

A few dates… She bit her lip, feeling her old apprehension return. There was a reason she avoided him so assiduously, and she’d disguised that reason in so many other layers of peripheral truths that she’d almost lost sight of it; but now that he’d brought it up, it emerged from the debris of her logic, demanding to be noticed.

Caitlin took a deep breath. If anything was to happen between them, she had to tell him this.

“I think—”

“Oh, that can’t be good,” he teased.

She wrinkled her nose at him and continued slowly, “I think I need some time alone to let this all sink in. No, wait, let me finish.” She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze to ease his alarm. “Barry, I’m terrified. That was the problem—I’m completely terrified of this. Of going out with you and being with you.” She swallowed. “I was avoiding you because I like you enough to know you could hurt me, and I don’t want to get hurt. I figured that if I cut you off first, you wouldn’t be able to hurt me.”

His expression mellowed. “I wish I could say something like ‘I’ll never hurt you,’” he said, “but that’d be a lie. I think the more you let someone in, the more power you give them to hurt you. So I get what you’re saying.” His grip on her hand tightened. “But I think it’ll all be worth it in the end.”

“You don’t know that,” she said.

“But we never know anything for sure, anyway,” he said. “Even the most thoroughly researched predictions turn out wrong, and even the most improbable events come to happen, against all odds.” He flashed her a boyish smile. “As for me, I’m willing to take a chance on this”—he gestured between them—“improbable event.”

She shook her head and huffed a laugh. “For once, I don’t think I can argue with that logic.” He beamed, but she continued, “But I still need to let this all sink in. I just came to terms with everything, and it’s still extremely confusing…”

“Okay,” he said softly. “Okay. I understand. But promise me you won’t shut me out again,” he pleaded. “I don’t think I can bear any more of that. And besides, I’m running out of ideas for voicemails…”

She smiled, amused. “Alright,” she said. “I promise I won’t.”

“So… when’ll you talk to me again?” he grinned.

She pursed her lips. “Maybe after a week?”

“A week?!” he said, and then he cleared his throat and amended, “I mean, alright, sure, a week. I think I can do a week.”

She rolled her eyes fondly. “Thank you,” she said, and, on impulse, she tilted her head to press a kiss on his jaw.

He looked surprised, but he recovered quickly with a mischievous smile. “Can I have more of those to get me through the week?” he said. “Like, one for each day—”

“Don’t push your luck,” she said, and he laughed.

“I’m kidding,” he said. “Really, take your time. Just, you know, not too much time. Okay, to be honest, I can’t wait for next week to come…”

“You really have no patience, do you?”

“Absolutely none,” he chirped. “But when it comes to you, I guess I have a little bit more than my baseline patience.”

“How romantic,” she said dryly, and he grinned.

“Now that I have a ton of,” he said.

“Well, I don’t have a romantic bone in my body,” she said, with a teasing smile, “but when it comes to you, I guess I have a bit more than a scaphoid to spare.”

He laughed. “I’ll take it,” he said, brushing his lips on the inside of her wrist, right where her scaphoid was. When he looked up at her again, his eyes were shining with mirth. “We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?”

“Yes we are,” she said quietly. “We definitely are.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, surrounded by the soft rustling of leaves, the glow of streetlamps along the well-worn path, and the smell of the earth.

After a few moments, Caitlin ventured to speak.

“By the way, how’re you feeling?” she asked. “After that meet…”

“Oh… I’m still upset about it,” he said. “But it was partly my fault—Hunter was a new contender so I might’ve underestimated him—but you win some, you lose some, I guess.” He pulled away briefly to give her a pout. “I’m really hurt you didn’t come, though.”

“You’ll get over it,” she said dryly.

“The least you could do is kiss the hurt better,” he said, and she swatted his arm. “Ow, ow—fine, fine, I’ll stop soliciting kisses… But can I at least have a hug?”

He grinned, and she sighed.

“Fine. One second.”

“…Are you seriously giving me a hug time limit?”

“No such thing as free lunch, as they say.”

“But hugs are supposed to be free!”

“Not in my currency,” she returned.

“Well, how about two seconds?” he wheedled, giving her the smile that she couldn’t resist. “I mean, I was second place and all…”

She pretended to consider it. “I suppose that’s fair.”

“Yesss!” he cheered, disentangling his hands from hers to spread his arms open for the hug, but she pushed him back lightly at the shoulders.

“Wait, don’t you have a party to go to?”

“A par—oh, that. That can wait,” he said. “Not fair. You’re doing that on purpose.”

She tilted her head to the side innocently. “Doing what on purpose?”

“Cait, seriously, this is the worst time to make me wait,” he said, petulant. “I would really like to avail of my hug now, please.”

She smiled. Oh, she missed him. She really missed him. “Well, since you asked so nicely…”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he quickly pulled her flush against him, his arms strong around her waist. He let out a contented sigh and buried his face in the crook of her neck, and she closed her eyes and melted into his embrace.

They stayed like that for far longer than two seconds, but neither of them were counting.

[quotespicture]

https://quoteswithpicture.com/why-so-many-millennials-are-having-a-quarter-life-crisis-right-now/

Why So Many Millennials Are Having a Quarter-Life Crisis Right Now

Wondering why so many millennials are going through a quarter-life crisis? According to research, more than half of millennials are experiencing this period of self doubt and insecurity that is causing them to question their career paths, relationships and life choices.

Just like the midlife crisis, the quarter life crisis can be devastating. Read on for some insights on why a majority of millennials are experiencing this crisis and discover what to do about it.

Why many millennials are having a quarter life crisis 

1.) Adulting Woes

Life can be tough and confusing for us millennials.

We spend our younger years wishing to taste the sweet, sweet freedom that comes from being able to be the boss of our life and make our own decisions:

“Can’t WAIT until I’m older so mom and dad can’t boss me around all over the place and make me do dumb chores!”

And then we spend our older years, well, grumbling about how we wish we had the delicious freedom that goes along with being young:

“Did you see that adorable little girl dancing around like no one’s watching? I wish I was that carefree and didn’t have to worry about making rent this month and having to pay for all those dang car repairs!”

We arrive into adulthood like it’s some sort of celebratory procession (now I can do whateva the “F” I want in my own studio apartment, woo hoo!) and shortly thereafter we get blindsided up the wazoo by all the bills, loan debt, and various assorted mundane adulting activities that come along with it.

Suddenly, our life centers around a mundane 9-5 job, some much-needed coffee, a happy hour here and there, some social media updates and uploads, all tightly mixed in with a trip to the grocery store every so often. (And WHY do I always seem to pick the checkout line that goes the slowest? Sigh.)

Your brain is still functioning, but your soul is in total zombie mode.

We can’t WAIT for the weekend. But it never comes soon enough.

2.) Discovering Our Missing Piece

Don’t get me wrong, we have SO much to be thankful for these days. This isn’t the great depression, emojis are still alive and well, and somehow we survived 2012.

Essentially, I’d say that makes us Pretty Big Deals (PBDs).

But so why do we PBDs feel like something’s missing? Why do we feel so dead inside? Why do we continue to look up at the sky and scream, Is this all there is to life? (Interestingly, this tends to happen most often on Sunday evenings.)

Why do we feel like we’re walking around aimlessly, zombified, looking for answers to a question we haven’t even begun to formulate?

And why do we keep hitting the snooze button on the alarm of life, just as we get a glimpse of something beautiful that may connect us with more meaning or joy?

“Travel abroad? Yeah, I’d love to but I have no money to spare right now.”

“Learn to play the guitar? Psssahhhh, as if I have the time for that.”

“Go to that awesome concert with you? Nah, man. I have to stay home and finish a couple work projects. Yeah, I’m a loser I know.”

Not saying everyone should go all AWOL on life and forget their responsibilities. But what I AM emphasizing is that we need to take note of those passions, hobbies, or desires and find ways to integrate them into our lives more.

This is because these are the things which nourish our soul and are the clues to our true calling.

And yet these are the very same things we continue to push to the side, and tell ourselves and everyone else that we’ll do ’em “when we have more time.”

Sorry, buckos…but I’mma have to call bullsh*t on that.

That “when we have more time” thing doesn’t really exist in today’s world. Saying it may make us feel better and less guilty at the time for not doing it…but the truth is you’re full of baloney. You’re not gonna make time…and years will past by and you still won’t have made the time. And you’ll still feel stuck and irritated.

(Sorry to go all “hardass” on ya, but just wanna keep it real.)

3.) Ignoring the “Call of Our Soul”

Basically, we may hear the call of our passions and desires, but we find all sorts of excuses of why we can’t, shouldn’t, or won’t answer it because [insert whatever lame excuse you can think of].

It’s all really just a bunch of nonsense, because you’ll then wonder why you still have a major case of the “humdrums.”

And that’s sad. And, likewise, you’re still unhappy. I mean, I’m not trying to be all sadistic and make you feel worse or anything, but if you push away what brings you joy or fills your life with meaning, this denial will eventually weigh on you. It will start to feel like you’re carrying around a ton of bricks on your shoulders; thereby making you feel even more tired, anxious, and depressed.

Yeah, life can suck sometimes. We’ve all been there. No one’s alone in that experience.

The Secret

Here’s how to survive the quarter life crisis

Maybe, just maybe, you’re not filling your side of the bargain with life.

Maybe you need to stop wondering “what life can do for you,” and instead ponder “what you can do for life.”

Maybe you’ve become too complacent in life, too comfortable.

Maybe you’re always letting fear be your navigator…instead of your heart.

And maybe it’s as simple as you’re being all whiny and complain-y but not taking any sort of action to try and remedy the situation. (Ok, fine! I’ll personally fess up to being a habitual culprit of this, jeez louise!)

Regardless, let me fill you in on a magical, but simple secret:

The only way to break free of this melancholic jungle is to do something drastic. Something unheard of. Something…uncomfortable.

In other words: You need to go against what you’ve been doing up until now.

Scary? Yes. Necessary? Yes. Rewarding? Yes.

What? You thought the magical secret would be super easy and require no concerted effort from ya? As IF! (Quick shout out to that dope movie, Clueless.)

Anyways, magical secrets don’t work that way. It’s probably against a universal law, or something. And believe me, I know it will be tough. But that’s exactly why it works.

Think about it. If you’re bored and wallowing in despair…then whatever you’re doing right now in life isn’t working. So you gotta change things up. You have to go against your own personal status quo.

Doing Some Soul Digging

The truth is you don’t have to all of a sudden leap off the edge of a cliff into dark unknowingness…baby steps are fine. Those work too, ya know.

SO think about it: what would that look like for you? And what might be that first baby step for you?

Some possibilities might be:

 I will start a knitting club to connect with others who share a love for this hobby.I will take a class in the community to learn more about __ .I will schedule a solo trip to go hiking in the mountains so I can spend more time getting to know myself while being immersed in nature.I will volunteer to tutor kids at a nearby school.

Anyways, it will look different for everyone. And that’s how it’s supposed to be.

But the real humdinger question is this: what are YOU going to do for LIFE? Read: what are you going to contribute to the world? Hint: it will be something that you’re good at, passionate about, or love to do (hopefully all three) and others could benefit from.

So instead of those “why” questions we discussed earlier, ask yourself these inspiring new “what” questions over and over again. And marinate in them. And journal about them. And dream of them. And, heck, make love to them if you can! (Hmmmm, not quite sure what THAT would look like. Don’t think I wanna know.)

But seriously, just make sure to hold these questions in the back of your mind to create continued ponderings and inner dialog to get you closer to where you want to be. And I can only assume that includes a life of joy, meaning, and excitement to jump out of bed in the morning.

Next Steps

At our very core, humans want to feel like our lives have some sort of purpose, some significance; and that we will make a positive impact somehow, somewhere, or on someone.

It seems like we’re hardwired for it. It’s at the center of our being and has probably been around for much of humanity.

So let this be a call to action for all y’all millennials experiencing quarter life crisis, feeling a bit lost, disenchanted, or discouraged in life: stop being a human “doing” and instead become a human “being.” Stop going through the motions of life and begin to consciously construct a lifestyle now that you’ll smile about later when you’re all grey-haired, toothless, and decrepit.

When you shift into recognizing your unique gifts and passions and decide to apply them in some way to be of service to others, I guarantee you will feel more at ease and have better direction in life.

The concept of a quarter life crisis isn’t new. Go on and take your first baby step. It can only lead to a life that’s more rewarding and purposeful…and a little less tough and confusing.

“Life begins at the end of your comfort zone.” ~ Neale Donald Walsch

[anneedmonds]

Life Update: Red Wine and Muffin Puppets

I always have such good intentions for this monthly life update post (in fact even writing the first part of this sentence seems very deja vu), but however hard I try to do things in advance I always end up compiling it at the nth hour on the 3rd day of the month. (It has been on the 3rd day of the month since Ted was born; before that it was the 17th of every month, Angelica’s birthday. I have never failed to publish my post before midnight on the right day – I’m borderline superstitious about it now.)

Many people would have thrown out the whole “stick to the same date every month” rule years ago, no doubt finding it ridiculously restrictive and unnecessarily stressful. But I seem to be at my most productive when life is ridiculously restrictive and unnecessarily stressful so go figure – if I didn’t have a set date for my life updates then you probably wouldn’t be reading these very words. I’d just never get around to it, like my cookery videos and the post about sunscreens that’s been languishing in drafts since May 2013.

(By the way, if you want to catch up on all of the life updates – and there are almost four years’ worth now – then you can find them by clicking here and browsing backwards to reach the older posts.)

After that semi-apologetic introduction, which is now pretty much mandatory, let’s get down to business. Or pleasure. Or a mixture of both. I can tell you what hasn’t been a pleasure and that is the twelve days (and counting) of suffering from minor ailments that have been popping up with almost comical regularity. It’s become a standing joke, almost, that every morning brings a new gripe and I can’t tell whether I’m missing some sort of vital nutrient or mineral and need urgent fixing or if this is just what it feels like to get older.

Do I moan and demand that the GP takes my ailments seriously (“but how do you know that my stomach acid isn’t something to do with my eye strain and my running nose and they’re not all related and I have one great big super-illness?”) or do I moan (default setting) and accept that multiple ailments, aches and pains are just an inconvenient way of life. And be grateful that I’m generally well. And alive.

I mean I am always acutely grateful to be alive and not have any serious illness or disease – I’m actually very mindful of checking myself in that respect and reminding myself that every day is an absolute blessing, but by God it’s hard to keep perspective when you can’t breathe through your nose, isn’t it? If there’s one thing that makes me furious with the world it’s a blocked-up nose. Few things are more cruel. Being forced to mouth-breathe through the night, as the inside of your throat dries into something resembling an ancient piece of parchment from Caesar’s journal and then feels as though it’s been set alight, is one of life’s great injustices. Why someone hasn’t invented a sort of irrigation/misting system for the mouth I do not know; a little tube, perhaps, that just spritzes the tongue and throat with water when you have a cold – or better still, a glycerin/honey kind of affair that stops tickly coughs in their path and provides lubrication.

Coming soon on Dragons’ Den.

Anyway, the toothache/headache/stomachache/bottomache/throatache/cough has been exhausting and I would just like a whole week off. To reset. Preferably somewhere hot but not too hot (Greece? Spain?) and with a kids’ club run by Mary Poppins. Or the Greek/Spanish equivalent. Maria Haciendo Estallar. (Google translate has possibly let me down there.)

But enough of me, I must leave some time to talk about Headstrong Ted (two years and four months old) and Pre-Teen Angelica (turning four in a couple of weeks). They are chatting away to one another now, Angelica in perfect, surprisingly crisp English and Ted in his own strange little alien language that likes to elongate vowels and completely miss off the beginning consonants from words. “Ooooo!” is zoo. “Armer!” is farmer. “Iraffe!” is giraffe. But we now have sentences, sort of, or at least the seeds of sentences – the intention’s all there.

“Go! Go! Gaga’s ‘oom! ‘Ide! ‘Olf!” is, obviously, “Go! Go! Angelica’s room! Hide! Wolf!”

Apple is “pull”. Snack is “ack” and baby is “dee dee”. And all of this is monumentally boring to other people so I can’t quite believe I’m writing it. Next I’ll be telling you about the knee operation that my Mum’s brother-in-law’s friend had before Christmas and how he’ll always set off the beeper at the airport. I am turning into the woman I always dreaded, though I haven’t started wearing fleece tops or saving eggshells. Why do people save eggshells? I want to say it’s something to do with slugs but I’ve had a large glass of quite a fine Chianti (no fava beans!) and my brain has gone soft.

Oh but I do have to tell you about my favourite Angelica-isms. Can I? I promise I’ll be quick. She now  understands just about everything so I rarely have to stop to explain – in fact a lot of the time she can tell if I’m oversimplifying things for her and she pulls me up on it. So it makes it even funnier when she gets things wrong. My favourite is this one:

“Mummy I’m going to paint my face but not poke the brush in my eye bulbs.”

Eye bulbs! I think I prefer eyebulbs to eyeballs – I may adopt it. At any rate I can’t bear to correct her because it’s so sweet. She still says coldsnore for coleslaw, and then there’s the one that had me in stitches the other day: Muffin Puppets. Guess what Muffin Puppets are? She was desperate to watch a film we had saved on Amazon Prime and it was about Christmas with the Muffin Puppets. I had absolutely no idea what she was on about. “You know Mummy, the Muffin Puppets at Christmas. With Scrooge.”

She was talking about the Muppets. Muffin Puppets!

If someone doesn’t form a band and call it that I’ll be very upset. Maybe Angelica should form a band – her and Ted are becoming quite the duo when it comes to singing their little ditties and putting on dance performances. Granted, Ted just sort of spins about on the spot and then falls over, but Angelica is full-on Sylvia Young jazz-hand material. She even introduces herself in a (slightly creepy) man’s voice before she begins her show. “Ladies and Gentlemen, my performance is about to begin.”

One of the things that I wanted to write about this month was how intense it was all becoming, looking after two small kids. Sometimes I feel as though we’re on a treadmill and it’s stuck on the highest setting and we just can’t stop running, you can’t even shift your gaze to the control panel to find the slow-down button, let alone reach a hand towards it.  You’re desperate for someone capable to lean over and adjust the speed, give you some breathing space, but it’s relentless. I thought that the newborn phase was hard, and it is, but for such different reasons. Because it’s new, because you don’t sleep, because your brain and body are completely mangled. But then they get older and the guilt becomes a thing, and you have to try and navigate your way through disciplining and educating and trying to instil in them the values and behavioural traits that you find acceptable and it’s a BLOODY MINEFIELD!

Why is there not a course on this? Parenting? I mean for the love of God! You learn about algebra (haven’t needed it once) and you learn how to read maps (hello? Sat nav?!) and you do classes on 1066 at Hastings and the six wives of Henry VIII and all sorts of things that are inarguably interesting; but surely there should be some basic bits and pieces on kids? Like what you should do when you shout at them and they just laugh in your face, or what to do when NO, NO, I SAID NO! doesn’t work, or how to get yourself out of the black hole of doom that is the “using ice cream and treats as bribes for good behaviour” hole.

I’m sure it’s all basic psychology, but it’s the sort of stuff I needed drilled into me from teen years onwards; I don’t have the energy to learn it all now. It needed to be second nature. If I took my eye off the ball for long enough to read up about parenting now, the cat would probably have been shoved into the oven and the walls would be bright green with bits of dried pasta glued all over them. And we’d have no floor, because Ted would have picked the lock on the cupboard with the cleaning products in, managed to mix two highly flammable solutions together and blown a hole in the ground. All in the space of nineteen seconds, which is the time frame in which he can achieve pretty much anything, including climbing two flights of stairs, mounting a window sill ledge and unlatching a window that requires the skill and dexterity of a professional bank robber.

Right, I’m onto my second glass of red which is almost unheard of for me, but it has been a testing kind of week(s). Not that I’m going to make a habit of it – two glasses and I’m a felled woman the following day, I can barely tie my shoelaces. But I have a new book to read and it’s a sort of biography and I feel that it calls for slight tipsiness and perhaps some light weeping. I’m too embarrassed to tell you what the book is at the moment, it’s a daft sort of thing, but I do feel a separate post coming on. I have a weird connection with the woman in question – perhaps it’s a nostalgia thing – so I’m really looking forward to curling up and getting stuck in.

On that mysterious note, I bid you all farewell until later on in the week, which is how long it will take me to recover from my two glasses of wine! So it’s goodnight (or morning, depending on when you’re reading) from me and goodnight from the Muffin Puppets – if you have any funny malapropisms of your own then please do pop them into the comments below. They don’t even have to be kid ones – my parents still call memory foam mattresses the “Tempura Mattress”.

The post Life Update: Red Wine and Muffin Puppets appeared first on A Model Recommends.

Life Update: Red Wine and Muffin Puppets was first posted on June 3, 2019 at 10:00 pm. ©2018 "A Model Recommends". Use of this feed is for personal non-commercial use only. If you are not reading this article in your feed reader, then the site is guilty of copyright infringement. Please contact me at contact@amodelrecommends.com Life Update: Red Wine and Muffin Puppets published first on https://medium.com/@SkinAlley

[jess-oh]

Reflection

hey journal!

i had an off day today. i woke up early, showered, cut and prepared my lunch for the day, packed grapes to snack on, and was overall in a pretty good mood. i even stayed awake for the entire train ride up north and while i did run into the homeless guy again, he didnt recognize me this time. phew. but i started it off well! i did! but then i preceeded to feel very overwhelmed and I can’t tell if im just being lazy or if today was honestly an off day or what. i think it’s bc i do have a tendency to work fast in general but bc of that, i usually have a lot of free time and a lot of time for a break but today, i didnt feel like i had a break. it was just one thing after the other and all so fast! And I’ve been getting more “fire drill” requests recently where clients need something ASAP. Which haven’t been too hard. It’s just a lot to take care of I guess. And it could just be that it’s a busy season right now. But it was just today and I do feel like tomorrow will be better. I just need to come up with a few different drafts for the one pager and the company map. I’m thinking of looking into flow charts? Or an organizational map? Or maybe it’s a chart? Anyway, I did one for ITM that came out pretty nice so maybe I’ll mimic the style. I think I’m just having such a hard time bc I don’t exactly know what they want whereas my work for the clients have been pretty straightforward. 

Sometimes I wonder if I’m too “perfect” and because of that, I lack a personality.

I didn’t actually tell anyone the above thought bc I thought it’d just come off as cocky but it was an actual concern! but I don’t think it’s true, haha. I’m passionate, loyal, determined, and hardworking. I’m not as goal-oriented as I used to be and I’m a lot more open to mistakes bc I know it’s not the end of the world. I’ve been able to overcome my fear of failure and it’s been immensely helpful. Although sometimes, I do still wonder if I’m not putting my best foot forward because I’m not a perfectionist anymore and worry if I should revert to those old habits. But I was so unhappy then and I’ve been able to do a lot more now without making every draft a “perfect” draft. 

I didn’t realize the people in my class from Sa-Rang went on their road trip recently and it looks like they had a good time and I was actually not at all worried about missing out. In fact, I think if I went, it would’ve just been awkward. I’m glad theyre having a good time. I just don’t think my personality fits in with them. Everyone is so competitive and I’ve tried to play those games before and I feel like if I called them out on it, they’d just chalk it off to me overreacting and they just dont trust me bc of the game and not bc of the past. But I feel like it would be bc of the past. I just wish they’d give me a chance. I actually feel like a real, decent, valid human being with my D&D friends and co-workers and peers out here. And with them. I always felt like I tried to speak up but they would ignore me. I was a voice always unheard and it made me feel invisible and like less of a person. And it felt like a norm so whenever people did acknowledge my existence, I was so touched. So touched to know that at least someone could see me. But how sad is that? I know who I am and I know the good that I have done and I know my place in God’s Kingdom. But whenever I’m with them, everything just falls apart and I question my identity and I just really don’t want to go back and face that again. I only have a month left before I have to. I want to make the most of my time here so that I’m not so afraid when I go back there. I do need to stand my ground with them and I know that I shouldn’t be this afraid to go back to my home church but I am just so afraid of how they’d react and judge me bc they’re the people I call “home.” And if that falls apart, then what. I do have Lakeview here and I’m glad but it’s still a work in progress for sure. I also want to make sure I’m doing things to help and invest into others because I genuinely care for them and not so that they’ll be grateful and thankful towards me later. I do want to genuinely serve them. I do. And I know that I can get into my own head a lot but I do want to really care for them on a deeper level. I also worry that whenever I reach out to guys, they think I’m asking them out on a date but I’m not. I actually just perceive them as I perceive girls—as hurting people and I want to be there to help them through it. 

I have “Jessie’s Girl” stuck in my head and as catchy as it is, it’s distracting my writings.

I’m really excited to sing karaoke with my friends on Friday and I just belt out my horrible horrible voice. I am totally prepared to lose my voice, HAHA. 

I’m just really conflicted, I guess.

On the one hand, I do really want to go home and just be home and not have to worry about anything but to just be in the presence of my parents and sister and to have the opportunity to go out on more late night adventures with Andrew, Aurora, and David. Those are always fun! And admittedly, forcing hangouts with Jeanne, Grace An, Tina and David Kang were always kind of awkward and I shouldn’t force these things. If people want to hangout with me then they can hit me up. But I’m only in town for so long and I would much rather spend time with people who actually genuinely care about me. 

I’ve also been so busy with my internship and havent had time to work on my coding skills :( And I want to start designing my D&D character too! Maybe I’ll start sketching on the train tomorrow or something. 

I need to do my dishes and practice my VBS dance moves too! Hopefully Saturday? :/ I want to be prepared and ready to teach 2 more dances that I’m confident in on Sunday! And then...I’m not sure what we’ll do for the rest of the time. Maybe we can all work together on the fifth dance and just keep practicing every Sunday. I do need to make sure they can confidently dance on their own without watching me. I’m worried about one of the bigger girls because she is me. She’s not bad at dancing. She’s just not confident in her skills and I want to make sure she knows that she is seen. She is real. And valid. And so important and perfect in God’s eyes. I know I was pretty nervous last Sunday but I do want to really pray for them and be a sort of mentor figure for them. We just started training and I already love all of them so much. It was also pretty disheartening when I asked for fun facts about them and they just resorted to being a PK, as if that’s all they’re good for when in reality, they are so much more than that. I can understand why and how I got and get left out a lot more now. I’m that bigger girl bc she wasnt as enthusiastic or excited. She was just shy and quiet. And I feel like there have been moments when I’ve been really enthusiastic but no one else agreed with me and I ended up just being the odd one out and felt like such an outsider and like I didn’t belong. :/ I want to really do my best and try my hardest. I do.

I’m also worried that by the time I come back during August, I won’t have grown that much and nothing will feel like it’s changed. I’m just trying to prepare and think as much as I can until then. I almost don’t want to go home at all. I’m so scared that what awaits me is just me feeling like I don’t belong. At first I was sad that I’ll only be home for a few weeks but now I’m thinking that’s all I can handle. I am so afraid that I won’t have grown or learned enough. So much happened this past year that it feels like nothing happened at all. I struggled with alcoholism, depression, anxiety, I lost Marlena and Jakob, I made new friends like Sara and Evelyn too. I had trouble coming to terms with my dad’s mom’s death, my mom’s dad’s death, my whole family dying and everything we own being burned to a crisp. All of my family members and friends getting seriously injured and everything they know and love being destroyed in a great blaze. And hardest of all, I had to come to terms with the very real reality of Robbin passing away and honestly, I still can’t fully believe it. I think once I see his grave again, I’ll actually begin to fully accept it. I really still can’t believe that happened and that’s definitely been the most impactful part of this past year. I knew that this year would be tough but I thought in terms of persecution and that’s something I overcame. I didn’t care about how others would judge me at church or on the streets anymore because I know who I am in God’s eyes. Or at least I’m trying to learn my worth in them. But this? This was on a whole different level. I went home in February for the weekend to attend Robbin’s funeral. I know it was so expensive but it was so worth it be there. It was much needed closure. I remember seeing my dad cry on our way from the airport to his mom’s place. We were both so upset, knowing what a great person Robbin was and how short his life was. He was ten years older than me when he passed away. It’s been over five months, nearly six, since he had a heart attack and I just. Sigh. I really miss you Robbin and I am so sorry that I didn’t do more for you while you were still here. I know it wasn’t my fault but I still can’t help but feel partly responsible and wonder if anything would have changed had I said something. I know what depression feels like and it sucks and I could’ve been there for him but I wasn’t. 

But anyways,

I’m here now and I am doing good. I know I am. I am happy that I can. I need to stop procrastinating and be more pro-active and get everything done sooner so that I have more time to relax and not have to worry about things to do the next day. I don’t even feel like typing anymore but I’m not tired either. I might just watch videos because might as well. I’m really not in the mood to shower or was dishes. At least tomorrow is my last day for the week! Woo! I could just take care of those things tomorrow, I suppose. Sigh. I know I shouldn’t be lazy and I definitely have the means and ability to get up and do these things and just get it over with my but I’m really not in the mood. I just want to lay on the floor and cry and wallow in my sorrow. Sigh. 

On a brighter note, I saw the Incredible 2 yesterday with Tykira and Jordan and it was so good! I predicted the plot pretty early on so I was worried that that would be the whole movie so I was pleasantly surprised when it wasn’t! C:

I read some old posts in the Guat Squad group the other day while looking for old VBS dance moves and I told Judy that I missed everyone. But honestly, I don’t know if I do. I posted so many times and was so excited to post about reminders and I honestly did trust them and have a good time but not everyone, I guess. Even on the mission field, I was a lot more comfortable talking to Judy, Grace, and Gladys than anyone else on the team. There were moments during training where they did acknowledge me and I felt accepted and like I belonged but for the majority of the time, I don’t think I actually really got along with them. I need to stop trying so hard to fit in and just saying what everyone else is saying and speak the truth instead. It might be “not the right move” but it’s much better to be me and honest than to spend so long trying so hard to fit into a group that will never accept me anyway. I think this is a new goal that I should be working towards. Using my observations to just be blunt and straightforward and honest. I think I’ve been doing a pretty good job doing that with my family and P. Josh so far. I just can’t be afraid to be honest to those around my age either. 

I also need to stop judging people for being wealthy and well off. And also for complaining or being greedy or doing a better job at fitting in than I do. I’ve been really frustrated towards Jane recently bc I feel like she just complains all the time and tries so hard to fit in and it annoys me so much bc I try to fit in too. So why does it work for her but not for me? And maybe it’s because I’m fat or not as pretty. Maybe it’s because of what happened in the past. But regardless, I am here. And I want to be unapologetically me. 

[everly-kindred]

Eve’s Diary - Entry #48

Synopsis: Another busy week at Hogwarts passes, and the Hearty Party and the Cirque de Sorcieres draws nearer!

Words: 895

Date: 10th of February, 2027

Dear Diary, 

It’s been yet another crazy busy week, of course I always say that, though. 

Let's see… We had Huffle Hangout, and I got rose grams from Aures and Hailey. Aures gave me three, and one of them was a pink tip rose… And then she later on asked me to the Hearty Party… I said yes, of course! My first time being asked to any sort of dance, it was pretty... Thrilling is a good word for it, I think! I felt all fuzzy inside and sort of scared but in a good way? Anyways, yeah…

I also got roses from Nate, Caitlin, and Marigold, and it’s honestly pretty nice to get so much encouragement from my friends - and especially my captain, all things considered. Which, we did have quidditch practice, and I think I’m doing a little better. Bobby showed up after that, and we chatted for a bit, before we had to go to class.

I’ve had… three herbology classes since I last wrote in you. The first one we covered asphodel, lavender, and rosemary. The second, we covered wild rice and roses, and then the third, we covered fluxweed and mandrakes. Did you know there are magical versions of wild rice and rose? Wild rice is apparently very, well, wild, and takes some effort to tame! It was beyond my year, though, so I didn’t handle it at all. I also didn’t handle the mandrakes, and when I tried to care for the fluxweed, I had problems there, too. But I was able to care for everything else… Well, except for lavender. So I ended up spending most of the practical part of class helping take care of what I /know/ I won’t kill. We also spent a lot of the class today talking about polyjuice potion, since fluxweed is used in it. 

In the Defense Against the Dark Arts earlier in the week, we discussed werewolves. Professor Vikander kept calling on Persephone, which really bothered me, and everyone seemed to have really strong opinions about them. I’m just tired of people killing each other, and I don’t feel like murder and oppression is something that should be up for debate… but here we are. 

We had an astronomy class that I… honestly don’t remember much of after I had gone to bed, sadly. I do remember that girl Tilly lent me her scarf, though. I should give it back to her. I guess she thought I was cold, which was really nice of her. 

In transfigurations, we practiced colovaria on rocks. I think I managed to cast it two out of four times, which is… better than I was expecting, really! I was just glad it wasn’t another test, though we did have one of those in ancient studies which I failed just as hard as I had the transfigurations one. I hope the professors don’t write my parents about it. I wouldn’t want to get a howler, though speaking of… 

We made these love notes in artificer club that were like sweet little howlers! They’re super cute! I haven’t gotten one from anyone but I might send a few… Along with all the roses I’d sent. 

February 4th was King Frost Day, and lucky for me, there was plenty of hot chocolate to drink, ice to slip on, and snow to make snowmen! Although yesterday, it thunderstormed something fierce and I can’t help but wonder if it’s about to start getting warm and melt away all the snow. 

In Divinations, we tried to use rats to divine the future based off of their movements. Professor Gallo tricked the class into thinking we were going to be cutting open these stuffed animals and using the stuffing to predict the future, but it was just a prank. I was very conflicted on how to feel. But anyways, we held real rats and kind of just observed their movements. Much less terrifying than the swimming with dolphins class, in my opinion. No less exciting, though! Seeing some students freak out to a floor covered in rats was very funny.

In Care of Magical Creatures we discussed Acromantulas and Basilisks, and in Defense Against the Dark Arts today, we discussed trolls, because a troll broke into the school yesterday! I think they said it was a forest troll? It broke in during Sunday lunch, which I had missed because I was sleeping. I could still smell the troll from where it had been in the halls, though. 

I think there was a rumour about me and Ruby in the paper today, too, but I’ve been trying not to think about it too much. Instead, I’ve been daydreaming about one day buying this gold cauldron I saw in the cauldron shop last time I was in Hogsmeade. It’s so pretty, and apparently using certain metals in potions can affect how quickly they finish brewing. It costs like a thousand galleons or something crazy like that, though. 

Oh! Also! During Defense Against the Dark Arts today, some older lion girl stood on her desk, and got yelled at by Vikander and told to leave because of it! And she said some mean things while she was leaving! I can’t believe how brave and… kinda stupid that was! 

Anyways, it’s getting late, so I’m off to bed to dream of shiny cauldrons. 

Much love, Everly

About the Character: Everlina Rosemary Kindred is an imaginative Hufflepuff attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She keeps up with her magical journey through a series of diary entries, dream journals, and tarot readings, all documented for future reflection. Her diary is a small glimpse into her enchanted life, and her adventure into the wizarding world and all its splendors. If you’d like more information about Eve, visit her wiki page. 

About the Author: My name is Katherine! I am a 22-year-old Hufflepuff & Pukwudgie from Louisville, Kentucky. This page is my creative journey into the magical world, through the lenses of Second Life. Here I post diary entries, dream journals, and tarot readings all from my character’s perspective. If you’d like more information about me, visit my Flickr! 

[modernnonfiction]

lol im gonna talk about how sucky my life used to be under the cut so pls dont read if you dont want to this is like a stream of consciousness thing because im feeling Depressed

this is honestly so extra but ive never really said all of this out loud or written it all down. I had a diary when i was 11 and i said some of this stuff but she found it and ruined me for it so i dont ever talk about it. i think i just realized why i dont talk about it by writing that out wow. but anyway, 

my parents got divorced when i was six. i was sad at the time but honestly? i wasnt that upset in the grand scheme. i found out later it was bc my mom cheated on my dad with my current stepfather lol. but before they told us that was happening my mom just disappeared for three months and my dad was sad all the time. i remember that was the nicest my dad has ever been to me; he used to carry me down for breakfast every morning and id watch tv on this big round chair in our old house. when my mom came home i wrote about it in my little journal at school and i dont think my teacher thought anything of it.

my mom moved to an apartment and my dad kept the house. since we were so young we’d spend the first half of the week with one parent and the second half with the other. i think we switched to an every other week arrangement when my dad got remarried. 

my parents never liked to tell me when they went on dates but i always knew. they were probably worried about upsetting me but i wouldnt have been. i understood that my parents were broken up and i didnt want to change it, because i knew it was a grown up thing. they would always try to explain to me in a non direct way what was going on and i always hated it. i was intuitive for my age and i never really liked the skirting around the issues. it seemed important to my parents that i knew i could ask questions and be upset but i genuinely didnt feel that way.

my dad dated a really nice woman with two little girls my brother’s age for a little while. i sometimes wonder what wouldve happened if he married her instead. i see her at church sometimes with her two girls. i don’t think she ever remarried. 

my dad met my step mother after her. i really liked her. she had three daughters that were younger than me, an older daughter and an older son. they were all nice. i would go to their house whenever i would be staying with my dad and i would have sleepovers with her younger daughters. i always loved going to their house because they had so many things to play with and a big backyard. now that i think about it i think my dad asked to marry her after only like nine months. thats never really enough time to get to know a person. i was so happy though. i had been praying for a little sister for so long and then i was going to have three! my dad married her during the summer on a beach in florida. we all travelled there together and stayed in a nice beach condo. i was excited to be the flower girl in the wedding and to wear a pretty dress that matched all of my sisters. 

things started going south that weekend. I went to the grocery store with my younger siblings and my stepmother on one of the first days, and i was messing around as kids tend to do. i wasnt doing anything wrong. it was 10 years ago, i’ll give, but i do remember feeling surprised because i had never heard my stepmother speak to me this way. she told me that if i didn’t shut up she would spank me, which shut me up quite quickly, but it felt weird. 

this is the part of the story where i feel like people will stop listening and tell me im overreacting, but i know that was when i realized something wasnt right. it was the tone of voice that tipped me off, thats something i cant really convey. I rly hate how right now i feel like i have to defend that her telling me she would hit me is wrong. but it is. i’ll leave it at that. im not spoiled, i was hit plenty of times after this comment. none of it was right, but it happened. my point is hitting children is wrong, it was wrong when it happened to me and its wrong now.

but anyway, the wedding happened. things got progressively worse for me that whole weekend. i remember sitting on the stairs in the condo playing with my dollhouse absentmindedly because i had gotten yelled at earlier. after the weekend was over, my granparents picked me and my brother up so that they could go on their honeymoon. i remember laying on the bed one morning in our hotel room thinking that something wasnt right.

dammit i was just a kid i just keep thinking about that i was a kid i was little why didnt she like me

a lot of my childhood is a blur now because of her. there was a lot of yelling, some hitting, her generally just making me feel like shit. there were good moments too, and i tried so hard to like her and get along with her but i just couldnt. she terrified me. she would look at me in a way that made me forget how to speak, i was so scared of her. 

she made me feel stupid, that was one thing she did a lot. me and my brother were really smart kids and that made her so mad. i never understood it then but i do now. she would look for ways to make us feel stupid so that she could have a moment of superiority. over an 8 year old of all people. thats what made her so vile. 

i was a really emotional kid. i still am emotional, to be fair, but when you’re a kid, you never really know how to control that, you know? I was always made to believe i had done something wrong when my stepmom was around, and it showed. i clung to my dad a lot, and she hated that. 

the moment that i flash back to the most, the one thing that i think makes me hate her so much, is the time when i was 8, probably less than a year after she and my dad got married, i was sitting with my dad on the couch watching tv, and something inside her snapped. idk what it was that tipped her off, but she started yelling at me, saying that i was avoiding her, and that i was being selfish and rude and awful. i was confused and upset and just plain scared mostly. i argued that i wasn’t trying to do anything to her, i was just watching tv with my dad. there was no way i could be avoiding her because that wasn’t even a thought that occurred  to me. She wasn’t having it. I knew that this encounter wouldnt end without her hurting me. i dont remember how it got to this point, but she got so mad that she just stopped talking to me, went to the dining room and pulled out a chair. she dragged me off the couch and made me stand behind it. she told me that i had to stand behind this chair and think of why i was avoiding her and why i was being mean to her, and then when i had an answer i had to sit down and tell her. i stood behind that chair for hours while her and my dad fought out of earshot of me. i dont remember how long it was, but i remember it was long enough for the sun to set and for all my siblings to go to bed. i genuinely tried to think of things to say to her, but they weren’t real, and i didn’t want to lie. i couldn’t think of anything because i didn’t know what i had done wrong. after a few hours, i resolved that i could just stand behind that chair for the rest of my life, because i was in the church choir and i took dance class, and i was used to standing for long periods of time. she came back when she was done fighting and when she saw i wasn’t sitting down she snapped again. she hit me over and over and over and between each time she would ask me what my reason was for a avoiding her. if i didn’t say anything she would hit me. if i made something up she would hit me. this went on until she got tired out and left. i hung over the chair and cried. my dad came to get me and i told him i didn’t do anything. he said he knew, and that if i just apologized to her, she would leave me alone. i didn’t want to, but he said even if i didn’t believe it, it would make her stop. i told her i was sorry and that i wouldn’t do it again, whatever “it” was, and she said “whatever”. i went to bed after that and cried myself to sleep.

the next morning we went to church and afterword the same thing happened. she was mad that i was “avoiding” her in church. instead of hitting me that time, she pulled out a notebook and wrote down two questions: “why did i hesitate from holding [my stepmother]’s hand in church?” and “why did I ignore [my stepmother]?” (i cant quite remember the second one, but it was along those lines.). she told me that if i were “smart enough to be in gifted classes at school” that i was “smart enough to answer those questions in essays”. she left me alone and made my siblings go play outside. i sat there stumped for a while, she would come and check on me and make sure i wasnt falling asleep, and would tell me to start writing something. my dad came in later and just told me some crap to write so that i could be done and go play with my siblings. she was upset that he told me what to write, but let me go anyway. i went to see my siblings and they asked me what happened. i told them and they shrugged it off. 

you know, people say that abuse makes your brain block out memories, and i used to think that my memory was pretty ironclad. now that im actually thinking about it, i can only remember a few isolated moments. all the rest of it is just a blur where i know that she was awful to me and i was miserable but i have no idea the specific circumstances. 

im also thinking about how my dad didnt try to stop any of it. he would help me through it, and he would empathize with me, but he didn’t try to stop it. sometimes he would join in and that made it worse.

i’m gonna list the isolated incidents that i can remember just so that its written down.

I found out that santa and the easter bunny and their affiliates were not real the first christmas after my dad remarried. i told my little brother and sisters that i didn’t believe in it right after my revelation, because they were my best friends and i told them everything. my dad and stepmom found out and i got in so much trouble. but it didnt make sense to me because i didn’t know that what i did was wrong. didn’t stop them from hitting me.

i was playing with my little sister and slapped her on the back. i did it too hard and it hurt her. she was wearing a swimsuit top and he had sensitive skin so it left a handprint. i apologized, it was an accident (and just as a side note she hit me first and i was retaliating. not that it matters.). she told my dad and stepmom and they called me to the kitchen. said “you know what we have to do now” and hit my bare skin as a punishment.

took me to a rollercoaster park knowing that im scared of rollercoasters (about 9 or 10 in age at the time) got in trouble for being afraid of the rollercoasters. my dad pulled me to the side and told me that i was gonna get a beating when we got home. we went to the waterpark section of the theme park and they wouldnt let me go swimming because i wouldnt ride rollercoasters. i had to watch my siblings go swimming without taking my eyes off of them to underscore that the reason i wasnt swimming was because i was being selfish and spoiled because they paid money for me to come there and i was afraid of the rollercoasters

i’m just gonna stop for now bc this is a lot and im tired.