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teamfreewill-imagine · 7 years

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I Know Your Wife (She Wouldn’t Mind) - Part Twenty-Eight

Summary: Jensen gets a phone call from Genevieve during his and Jared’s Sunday morning panel at PittCon, alerting them to the situation going on back in Vancouver Words: 5.6k Jared x Reader x Gen, Jensen, Danneel, JJ, Tom, Shep, Arrow, Zep Warnings: angst, pregnancy Beta: @blacksiren

I Know Your Wife - Masterpost

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“This episode is complete bullshit,” you announced, throwing your purse down and kicking off your shoes as you entered your house. “I don’t know what the writers are thinking- actually, yes I do. They’re thinking, ‘Hey, Y/N was rude to Eric over hiatus so now it’s time to fuck up her fucking character’. Fuck.”

You’d finished your little rant before you reached the front room, ready to fall down onto the couch and forget about Supernatural for the weekend.

Instead you were faced with a slack-jawed JJ, her mom sat behind her with her arms folded.

Bailey, however, was super pumped that you were home and greeted you with enthusiasm.

But then again, she hadn’t heard you swearing your way through the hallway.

You smiled awkwardly.

“I, uh-”

“Ditto, you said a bad word,” JJ told you, and you cringed. “You said a lot of bad words.”

You nodded, scritching between Bailey’s ears to give you something to do.

“I’m sorry,” you sighed not knowing what to say. “I didn’t... I didn’t know you were home, sweetie.”

Gen had told you she'd taken the kids to the airport to say goodbye to Jared and Jensen for the weekend, and you'd wrongly assumed that meant JJ as well.

She folded her arms, her little face as stern as you’d ever seen it; an excellent impression of her mama.

“Tha’s no excuse,” she said, firmly. “Zep and Arry are nappin’ and you could’a woke them up with your potty mouth.”

Danneel’s firm resolve cracked as she laughed, leaning forward to wrap her arms around JJ and pull her onto the couch beside her.

You sat down in the armchair, Bailey following to sit against your chair, already loyal to her owner.

“In all seriousness,” Danneel began, “I know this is your house and we're the guests, but...”

She trailed off, but you nodded.

“I honestly thought it was only you home, and I figured the twins would be asleep,” you offered, biting your lip. “I’ve had… a rough day.”

JJ’s look of chastisement turned to an expression of worry as she looked between you and Danneel.

“Why?” she asked you. “What happened?”

You shrugged, resting your hands on your pronounced bump.

“Filming wasn't fun,” you explained. “I'm gonna have to do some stuff that I didn't really want to.”

Danneel raised an eyebrow.

“It's not… you and Jay aren't-”

“Oh, no,” you shook your head. “No, we were pretty firm on that and they can't make us because he's my dad. Just some other stuff.”

You waved a hand dismissively, sighing.

“Whatever, got a long weekend while the boys are in Pittsburgh so I don't have to think about it.”

Danneel smiled sympathetically, tucking a loose strand of hair back into JJ’s braid.

“Do you wish you were going to the convention?” she asked, and you took a moment to think about it.

“I did kinda feel like I was missing out last time,” you allowed, “But I'm way too pregnant to be travelling and stressing myself out with panels and stuff. That kinda stress wouldn't be good for the baby. My number one priority is looking out for the little one.”

JJ was watching you with a small frown, leaning against Danneel but her eyes never leaving yours.

“What's up?” you asked her, and she took a deep breath.

“Are you still gonna want to play with me when Baby Ditto is here?” she asked in a rush, making Danneel gasp softly.

Your heart began to ache at the question and you swallowed to clear the dryness in your throat.

“JJ, you are my sister,” you reminded her. “You're my best friend, and I love you very much. Do you understand?”

She nodded, Danneel staying quiet and letting you handle it.

“When the baby comes, I’m gonna be tired, maybe a little grouchy, but I will never stop loving you,” you promised. “I will always enjoy your company and, as long as I have the time and the energy, I will want to play with you.”

“And when you don't?” she asked, quietly.

“When I don't have the energy?” you clarified, and she nodded. “Then we can just watch ‘Punzel and take a nap.”

She grinned, getting up and running across the room.

Leaning over the arm of the couch, she hugged you as best as she could and placed a kiss on your cheek.

“Good,” she smiled, turning to leave the room. “I'm gonna go play upstairs.”

You laughed softly as you watched her go, disappearing into the hallway before you could hear little footsteps on the stairs.

You looked over at Danneel, smiling a little sadly.

“She thought I wasn't gonna have time for her,” you murmured, and Danneel offered an understanding smile in response.

“She was the same before the twins,” she assured you. “But we told her not to be silly and she's not thought about it since. Just an insecurity, it makes sense.”

You nodded in agreement, running a hand over your bump.

“Things are gonna be so different in a few weeks,” you mused, half in awe, half terrified.

“They are,” Danneel agreed. “You're gonna have your baby in your arms. You'll be able to hold and kiss and love your own child, your perfect little creation. It'll all be worth it.”

You smiled, stilling your hands.

“My own child,” you breathed, unable to stop the grin. “I'm gonna be a mama.”

“Yeah,” Danneel grinned back. “My baby’s havin’ a baby.”

You nodded, rolling your lips to stop the smile before a thought popped into your head.

“You're gonna be here, right?” you asked, and she frowned. “I mean, in the room. When it happens.”

“I'm gonna be wherever you want me to be, sweetie,” she assured you. “I won't leave your side the whole way through if you don't want me to.”

You nodded, letting out a small sigh of relief.

“Don't think I could do it without you,” you admitted.

Danneel got up and walked over to you, perching on the arm of your chair and brushing your hair from your forehead to place a kiss there.

“You're an Ackles girl, you're strong,” she reminded you. “You could do it without me, but you don't have to. I'm not going anywhere.”

You smiled, leaning against her as she dropped her hand to your shoulder.

“I love you, kiddo,” she murmured. “Sorry you had a crap day at work.”

You laughed softly.

“Sorry I said ‘fuck’ a hundred times in front of Tex.”

Danneel laughed, kissing your head once more before getting to her feet.

“I'm gonna check on the twins,” she told you. “You gonna be alright down here for a few minutes?”

“Yep,” you smiled, nudging the dog with your socked feet until she nuzzled against your leg. “I’ve got Bails to entertain me.”

The next day was spent relaxing with Gen, Danneel, and the kids.

You hadn’t really had a chance to relax with them since they’d made the long journey up over a week ago, filming as much as you could get in before the convention so the weekend wouldn’t put you behind.

It was nice to be able to catch up, to hold Arrow and Zep and speak to Danneel and JJ without a screen and a couple thousand miles between you.

Tom and Shep were happy to have JJ there to play with them, and Bailey’s gentleness around the twins reassured you that she’d be great with Baby Ditto.

“Someone's gonna have to keep Bailey out of the room,” Gen said out of the blue on Saturday afternoon.

“What?” you asked, laughing softly.

“When it's time for the baby,” she clarified. “We can't have a dog in here while you're giving birth.”

You nodded in understanding.

“Yeah, that's Jensen and Jared’s job,” you told her, gently stroking Arrow’s hair as she slept in your arms. “They're on kid and dog patrol.”

Danneel frowned, shifting beside you on the couch to look between you and Gen.

“Jared’s not gonna be in the room?” she asked, and you shook your head.

“I don't want him to see me like that,” you explained, continuing when it looked like she would argue. “Plus - and this is a bigger reason - Jensen can't look after all five of them on his own. Six, with Bailey.”

“I could always trade places,” Danneel offered. “If you want him with you.”

“I think…” you paused trying to remember the way you'd explained it to Gen and Jared. “I think, especially ‘cause it's happening at home, I'm gonna want to have the two most experienced birthing partners I can get. And y’all both have more experience poppin’ out babies than they do.”

They both laughed, Gen nodding in agreement.

“You're right, they really can't relate,” she smiled from the armchair.

“Exactly.”

You smiled down at Arrow, admiring the way she was so relaxed in your arms and allowing yourself to imagine holding your baby like this.

“Jared will still be the first to hold the baby,” Gen explained to Danneel. “After Y/N.”

Danneel nodded, still looking slightly unconvinced; as if it was unfathomable that you’d rather have her there than Jared.

“He really isn’t the most helpful during the actual birthing part,” Gen added, speaking from experience. “He’s an incredible daddy and a great partner, but while giving birth? If I had the option of you two, you would’ve been in the room with me over him.”

Danneel visibly relaxed, now understanding more.

“So it’s not about seeing you in labour, it’s about him being a bad birthing partner.”

“Exactly,” you confirmed. “I mean, he’s seen me throwing up. He’s seen me crying and sniffing. But I need strong women with me if I’m supposed to push a freaking watermelon out of me.”

They both laughed for real that time, so much so that Arrow started fussing as she was woken.

“Hey, shh,” you soothed, stroking through her soft hair again. “It’s nap time, baby girl.”

Apparently she didn’t agree.

Her fussing turned to sniffles, and Danneel got up to take her from the room so that she wouldn’t wake Zep as he slept in his dreamer bouncer.

“Kid can sleep through anything,” Gen joked, nodding at Zep as she walked across to take Danneel’s seat beside you.

“Takes after his daddy,” you laughed softly. “Jensen can fall asleep anywhere. It’s impressive, really.”

“I’m kinda jealous,” she agreed, wrapping her arm around your shoulders as you leant into her.

“I hope the baby sleeps this well,” you murmured, making her laugh. “Hey, it’s not unheard of for babies to sleep well.”

“No, I know, it can happen,” she agreed, kissing the top of your head. “But that doesn’t mean it’s gonna.”

You huffed indignantly, her fingertips lightly running up and down your arm.

“You’ll be fine either way,” she murmured, and you allowed a small smile.

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I hope so.”

It wasn’t unusual for you to wake up in the early hours of the morning.

You often found that the baby was pushing against your bladder, so waking up in desperate need of the bathroom had been a regular occurrence for the past couple of months.

Waking up with stomach cramps a little after 5am, however, was new.

You got out of bed, careful not to wake Genevieve as you tried to walk it off.

Maybe you’d just been sleeping funny and your body didn’t like it.

It seemed to fade so you went to use the bathroom seeing as you were awake anyway.

You walked around the house some more, deciding to check on the kids and the babies while you were up.

They were all sleeping soundly, and you found yourself watching them for a while.

All of these kids were going to grow up with your baby.

Two as siblings, two as friends, one as an aunt.

All as family, and you cared about all of them the same way you did about Baby Ditto.

Your back started to ache as you were standing for too long, so you decided to go back to bed.

On your way back into the bedroom you had to stop in the doorway as the cramps came back.

You pressed lightly against your bump where you felt the pain most, trying to ease it, but nothing helped.

“Fuck,” you breathed, leaning against the doorframe.

Once the pain passed again, you got back into bed, thinking that laying down might help.

It used to help with menstrual cramps and this was the same kind of pain, so maybe-

“Oh, God.”

As soon as you thought about it, you began to panic.

“Oh, God,” you breathed, propping yourself up with pillows behind your back as you shook Gen’s shoulder lightly to try and wake her.

She groaned slightly, shifting onto her stomach in her sleep.

You shook her again, harder this time as panic really started to set in.

“Gen,” you spoke, not quite normal volume but louder than a whisper.

She groaned again, propping herself up on an elbow and squinting her eyes open.

“What?” she asked, groggily.

“I don’t… I don’t know,” you admitted, the panic in your voice making her wake up fully.

“Sweetie?” she asked again, sitting up. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” you repeated, your words coming out in a rush. “I woke up with cramps so I got up and they went away but they came back like twenty minutes later and I thought laying down would help because it always helped with period cramps but then I realised… Gen, I’m not ready.”

“Hey, shh, calm down,” she soothed, cupping your cheek in a gentle palm as she shifted in front of you, her other hand resting on your shoulder. “You’re okay.”

You shook your head but took a deep breath as she did, following her lead and letting it out in a long puff of air.

“I can’t do this yet,” you told her, tears in your eyes ready to spill with a blink.

“Please don’t panic.”

She spoke softly, soothingly despite having only woken up less than a minute ago.

“It might be false labour, okay?” she reminded you. “Braxton Hicks? Remember you had them before?”

You nodded before shaking your head as you started to cry.

“It’s different,” you told her, sniffing. “Worse. A different kind of, of-”

You couldn’t bring yourself to say ‘contraction’.

If you said it, it would make it all real.

You weren’t ready.

“Okay, that’s okay,” she smiled, her voice still calm. “If this is early labour, we’ve still got a ways to go. Do you think you’ll be able to sleep?”

You could feel the incredulous look on your face but Gen just smiled softly.

“You’re gonna need your energy later,” she reminded you. “At least try and relax, get some rest.”

You nodded, leaning back into the pillows and trying not to cry.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

You still had three weeks left, this couldn’t be happening now.

“You’re thinking too hard,” Gen murmured, gently carding her fingers through your hair. “Okay, I’ll be right back.”

Your eyes shot open and your heart started to race as you felt her leave the bed.

“Try to keep calm, sweetie,” she soothed. “I promise I’ll be right back. I need to get some stuff to make you comfortable.”

You nodded, trying to concentrate on your breathing as she left.

Your heart rate had stopped rising, but it was now evened out at a racing pace as you closed your eyes again.

Your hands were shaking as you rested them on your bump, trying not to panic too much about the fact that you might be going into labour at 36 and 6.

Sure, you’d been told that the baby could arrive early, but the doctors said that usually meant late September instead of your official due date of early October.

You weren’t even halfway through the month yet.

You heard the door open but you didn’t open your eyes, knowing that if you did your vision would probably be impaired by tears anyway.

“Alright, that’s enough crying.”

You were surprised to hear Danneel’s voice rather than Genevieve’s, so you sniffed as you opened your eyes.

“I know you’re scared,” she told you, walking further into the room.

She was still in her pyjamas - just a pair of sleep shorts and one of Jensen’s tees - clearly fresh out of bed as she got in beside you.

“Contractions, huh?” she asked, and you nodded, wiping your tears with your sleeve.

“I think so,” you told her.

“So you need to stop freaking out,” she told you, kind but firm. “Your baby is gonna pick up on your stress and that’s the worst thing you can do.”

You nodded again, knowing she was right but finding the practice much harder than the theory.

“We’re gonna start noting down your contractions so we can see the progression,” she continued, leaning over you and picking up your phone from the nightstand.

She unlocked it with her thumbprint, opening up your notes.

“What time was the first one?”

“I woke up at 5:07 because of the pain,” you told her, resting your head on her shoulder. “Then there was one five minutes ago.”

Danneel noted it down, kissing the top of your head.

“Okay,” she murmured. “That sounds like they were around twenty minutes apart.”

You nodded, looking up as Gen came back in with water and snacks.

“We don’t have to do much until your waters break,” she explained, closing the door and squeezing in beside you on the other side.

You all shifted so you easily fit together, and the two of them encouraged you to lay back.

They both got comfortable beside you, relaxing back into the soft pillows.

Just having the two of them there with you had already helped to calm you down.

“We should call Jared,” Gen murmured, but you shook your head.

“Don’t want to worry him,” you explained. “It might not be anything.”

They both looked unconvinced, but you were insistent.

“He has a panel in two hours,” you reminded them. “I don’t want to panic him. Please.”

They shared a look, clearly communicating between them before Danneel spoke up.

“Okay, baby,” she agreed, resting a hand on your bump.

Gen placed a soft kiss to your shoulder, shifting to lay down properly.

“Try to get some sleep,” she murmured, earning a hum of approval from Danneel.

You sighed, praying that you’d be able to get some rest as you closed your eyes once more.

When your waters broke, there was no denying that this was really happening.

The contractions were steadily getting more intense, the twenty minute gap going down to fifteen in the two hours that passed between deciding to rest and your waters breaking.

It happened on your way back from the bathroom and your shocked, choked-off cry had JJ rushing out of Tom and Shep’s room.

She took in the sight of you and reached for your hand.

“It’s ‘kay,” she whispered. “It’s ‘kay to have an accident. I can help you clean up if ya want?”

You squeezed her hand, trying not to cry in front of her.

“I’m okay,” you told her. “I just gotta get to my room, baby.”

She nodded, keeping hold of your hand as she tried to help you back to your bedroom.

Danneel and Gen were both sat up on your bed, getting up and rushing over to you when they realised what had happened.

Danneel pulled you into a hug while Gen took JJ to sit on your bed.

“It’s really happening,” you whispered, feeling yourself start to cry.

“It is, sweetheart,” she agreed, stroking your hair soothingly. “You’re gonna be okay.”

JJ was watching on, worried about you but not wanting to get in the way.

“Alright, we’ve gotta call your midwife and get her over here,” Gen told you, and you took in a shaky breath as you pulled back from Danneel.

“I’m- I’m not-”

Danneel’s hand rubbed small, grounding circles into your lower back as they waited for you to continue your thought.

“I know I said I would do this at home, but I’m…” you paused, biting hard into your lip as you sniffed.

“Y/N, if you want to go to hospital I’m not gonna think any less of you,” Gen told you, honestly. “We had a plan, sure. But that plan didn’t involve it all happening quite so soon.”

You nodded, tears spilling over as Danneel wrapped her arm around your waist.

“Alright my love,” she whispered, kissing your temple. “JJ can you and the boys get up and dressed please?”

JJ nodded, sensing the urgency in her mom’s voice as she left the room without question.

“We’re gonna change your pants and get you comfortable then we’ll head out, okay?” Danneel told you, and you nodded.

While you were talking, Gen had pulled on sweatpants over her pyjama shorts, thrown her hair up into a bun and pulled on a sweater.

“Gen, can you help the kids? Get the twins in their car seats?”

She nodded, walking over to you and kissing you softly.

“I’m gonna call Jared,” she told you, and you shook your head.

“His panel’s only just started-”

“Y/N, you’re in labour,” she reminded you, no room for argument in her tone as she cupped your cheeks. “It’s real. It’s happening. Jared needs to know.”

You nodded as she leant up to kiss your forehead.

“It’s gonna be okay,” she promised, waiting for you to nod before letting you go.

“Meet you downstairs in ten,” Danneel told her and Gen nodded, squeezing Danneel’s arm as she left the room.

“That’s not how it happened,” Jensen insisted, Jared’s laughter cracking his faux-annoyed expression.

“That’s exactly how I remember it,” Jared grinned. “You weren’t even there, it was Nesnej.”

Jensen laughed at that, nodding in defeat as the crowd at the Gold morning panel burst into cheers for his drunk alter-ego.

“Yeah, that’s true,” he admitted as his phone started ringing in his back pocket.

He pulled it out, frowning when he saw Gen’s name on the caller ID.

“Dude, your wife is calling me,” he told Jared, making the crowd laugh as he answered on speaker. “Hey, cutie. Finally realise you wanted a real man?”

The crowd was still chuckling and Gen could hear them through the phone.

“Funny, Jensen,” she humoured him. “Jared’s phone is on silent I guess. Can you please take me off speaker and pass me over?”

Something about her tone made him oblige, instantly taking the phone off of speaker and lifting it to his ear.

“Genevieve? Is everything- are the kids-?”

“The kids are fine, but I need to speak to Jared,” she told him, and he nodded.

“Alright, here he is,” he murmured, handing the phone over and apologising to the crowd.

“Hey, babe,” Jared answered, his heart already racing as he stepped back from the mic to take the call.

“Jared,” Gen breathed, relieved that she finally got hold of him. “It’s Y/N.”

“What?” he asked, feeling the colour drain from his face. “What’s- what’s wrong?”

“She’s fine, she’s… She’s gone into labour. Her waters just broke,” she explained, as calm as possible in the knowledge that her husband would be freaking out.

“Wha- how?” he asked unintelligently.

“We’re going to the hospital,” Gen continued. “She didn’t want me to call you, but-”

“No, you did good,” he promised, aware of Jensen’s and everyone else’s eyes on him. “I’ll… I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Okay, sweetie,” Gen sighed. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

He hung up the phone, running a hand over his face and breathing harshly into his palm.

He handed Jensen back his phone, getting pulled into a hug as he did.

“Y/N’s in labour,” Jared whispered, not loud enough for the crowd to pick up.

Jensen pulled back, slapping his friend’s shoulder.

“Go,” he told him. “I’ll bring your stuff back with me.”

Jared nodded, stepping back to his mic.

“I’m… I’m really sorry, but there’s a family emergency and I have to get back,” he explained. “I’m- sorry, I’ve got to go.”

He left the stage with calls and cheers of ‘we love you, Jared’ following him out of the hall.

Jared was on the phone the whole way to the airport, determined to find the quickest flight back to Vancouver.

The woman on the other end was very helpful, telling him that the first flight out wouldn’t get there as fast as if he waited until just before noon.

“I need the flight that will get me into Vancouver the earliest,” he explained. “There’s… I need to get back.”

She assured him that she was doing everything she could to find him the best flights.

After a few minutes of nail-biting silence, she was back on the line.

“Mr. Padalecki?” she asked as he let out a shaky breath.

“Still here,” he confirmed.

“There’s a flight out to Chicago I can put you on at 11:59,” she explained. “Landing in there at 12:39 local. Then you’d pick up a 14:10 flight to Seattle, in at 16:30 local at the destination. Finally a short wait in Seattle before a flight over to Vancouver, arriving at 18:36.”

Jared nodded, his phone between his shoulder and his ear as he jotted down the information.

“And this flight from Seattle would be quicker than driving up?” he clarified.

“Yes, sir. By around an hour,” she confirmed.

He sighed, hating how far away he was from you but knowing this was his best option.

“Alright, can you book me on those?”

“Yes, sir, I can,” she told him. “Will you need to check in any luggage?”

“No, I, uh-” he laughed softly. “It’s just me, my wallet, passport, and phone.”

“Alright then, Mr. Padalecki, we can book you onto those flights. I’ll be able to check you in online so that you can go straight through to security when you arrive to cut down on time, we’ll email your tickets through to your phone.”

“Thank you,” he breathed. “Thank you so much.”

“Not a problem, sir,” she replied. “I’m just gonna need to take down some details.”

For the flight to Chicago, Jared was mostly numb. It passed without much thought, but the journey out to Seattle was a totally different story.

Jared Padalecki was a well travelled man. He had been on many planes in his life, many transatlantic and transpacific flights, but none of them had ever felt as long as this.

He’d paid for in-flight wifi so he could keep in contact with Genevieve the whole way, but that did nothing to soothe his anxieties.

Gen was in the waiting room with the older three kids while Danneel stayed with you.

The twins had been picked up by Briana when she’d heard about the situation, wanting to take some of the stress away from Gen.

Knowing that so many people were so close to you yet he - the father of your child - was still miles away, offered little comfort.

He knew that even if he was there he wouldn’t be in the room with you, but that wasn’t the point.

The thought that his baby could be born and he wouldn’t be there to hold it, to kiss you and let you know how proud he was of you, made his heart ache for you.

Knowing that you were currently in the active labour phase, according to Genevieve’s most recent message, probably wasn’t helping his predicament.

Tell that baby to hold on. Daddy’s four hours away.

His throat was dry no matter how much water he drank and he closed his eyes, willing the next few hours to go quickly.

Waiting for his final flight, Jared called Gen as soon as he could.

“I’m less than two hours away,” he told her, his leg bouncing with anxiety. “My next flight is in twenty-five minutes and then it’ll land just after 6:30. I should be with y’all by 7.”

“That’s great, babe,” Gen replied. “We’ll be waiting.”

He laughed softly, biting his lip.

“How’s… how’s she doing?” he asked, concern dripping from his tone.

“She’s doing great. Doing us proud,” she assured him. “But she’s… I’ve got to tell you, she’s 8cm.”

“Shit,” Jared breathed, sinking back into his seat. “I’m gonna miss it.”

“That’s not necessarily true,” she reminded him, “But I think she’s tired, Jare. She’s been in labour for twelve hours.”

“I know,” he sighed. “I know. If she feels like it’s time, it’s time. I’ll get there as soon as I can.”

“I know. We love you.”

“I love you, too,” he promised. “Keep me updated.”

“Of course,” she agreed. “Fly safe.”

You were sweating, your hair sticking to your face as your jaw clenched against the pain of your contractions.

The doctors told you that you were fully dilated, letting you know that it was okay to push whenever you felt the urge.

Danneel was letting you squeeze her hand while stroking your hair from your forehead.

“You’re doing so well, sweetie,” she murmured, and you nodded as you took deep breaths. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“No,” you replied, meeting her eyes. “Not until Jared is here.”

Her expression morphed into sympathetic concern.

“Y/N… you can’t put this off,” she told you, gently. “This baby is coming whether you like it or not.”

You knew she was right as you threw your head back with another contraction.

You couldn’t deny that you were starting to feel the urge to push this baby out.

“I can’t,” you cried, trying to focus on your breathing. “I can’t, Jared-”

“When you feel the urge, you’ve gotta bear down,” your midwife reminded you. “Chin to chest. Your mom is right, this baby is coming and it’s coming soon.”

You shook your head, trying to will your baby to hold out for Jared, to wait for him to get to the hospital.

“I can’t,” you whimpered, your head turning against the pillow towards Danneel. “He needs to be here.”

“I know,” she soothed, stroking your hair back again. “I know, but you’ve-”

She was cut off as somebody entered the room.

You turned your head to see Genevieve, out of breath and haphazardly dressed in the same kind of disposable hospital coveralls that Danneel and the doctors were in.

“Jared’s here,” she told you, walking over to your side. “He’s here, sweetie. He’s here.”

You felt yourself begin to cry as she leant in to kiss your forehead.

“I’ll go get him,” Danneel murmured, stepping away.

You squeezed her hand, pulling her back in.

“Mama, please,” you breathed. “Please stay.”

Adoration crossed her expression, her eyes glistening as she nodded.

“Alright, baby,” she whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Gen took your other hand, the two of them offering words of encouragement as the next contraction hit and you started to push.

You were cradling your baby against your chest, looking down at the face that you’d fallen in love with in an instant, when Jared entered the room.

He was trailed by JJ, Tom, and Shep; Gen bringing up the rear after having left to tell them of the birth.

You looked up and met Jared’s gaze as he looked between you and his baby.

“Can I-” he cleared his throat as his voice bubbled with emotion. “Can I hold her?”

You nodded, smiling as he leant in to kiss you.

“She’s beautiful,” he murmured against your lips, placing another kiss to your cheek as he pulled back. “I’m so so proud of you.”

You carefully passed him your daughter, falling more in love with him than ever when you saw the love in his eyes as he looked at her.

“I’m glad you made it,” you told him, watching as Gen stood beside him, gently stroking your daughter’s light hair.

“A sister?” Tom asked, standing beside your bed.

“Yeah, buddy,” you smiled tiredly. “That okay?”

Tom and Shep both nodded enthusiastically as JJ walked over to Danneel.

Danneel picked her up, letting her sit next to you when you shifted to make room; only slightly wincing at the movement.

“A baby girl?” JJ asked quietly, and you nodded, kissing the top of her head.

“You’re an auntie,” you whispered, and she grinned.

Danneel smiled, stroking JJ’s hair as she looked across at Jared and Gen, both still enamoured with your baby.

“Does she have a name?” Danneel asked and Jared smiled, finally tearing his eyes away from his daughter to tell her.

“Dallas,” he announced, looking at you. “You want to tell them her full name?”

You nodded as he passed her back to you, cradling her carefully as you let JJ get a better look at her.

You smiled at Danneel as you told her.

“Dallas Elta Padalecki.”

Her jaw dropped as her eyes flitted between you, Dallas, and Jared.

“Are you- are you serious?” she breathed, and Jared nodded.

“Dallas Elta,” he confirmed, and a tear slipped down Danneel’s cheek as she blinked.

“That’s perfect,” Gen smiled, her hand resting on Shep’s shoulder as he leant against her legs.

“Thank you,” Danneel whispered, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “Thank you.”

You smiled as your daughter stirred in your arms, making a small noise that melted your heart.

“We wanted her to be named after family,” you explained softly as JJ gently reached out to touch her niece’s cheek.

“I love her,” JJ breathed, sitting back as you helped her hold Dallas.

“Yeah,” Danneel agreed, taking your hand now that you had one free. “Me too.”

tags are closed because this always takes me 20 years

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#i know your wife #ikyw #jared x reader x gen #jared padalecki #spn rpf #genevieve padalecki #jensen ackles #danneel ackles #jj ackles #thomas padalecki #shep padalecki #arrow ackles #zeppelin ackles #pregnancy #labour tw

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torisfeather · 7 years

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Lovino smiled as he stopped talking for a few moments, bringing to his lips the delicious Sicilian wine he had ordered. The young girl in front of him was admiring him with devotion, holding onto his every word. He kept speaking with the charming tone he kept for beauties such as her. She was beautiful indeed: short brown locks like dark chocolate slivers, held back in a messy bun, large green eyes with thick, perfect eyelashes, tan skin like she just came back from summer vacation, full, playful lips adorned with lip-gloss, an incredibly sexy Latin accent… Her face seemed familiar and she might be slightly older than him, but that was far from bothering him.

The light was slowly softening, the music was growing sweeter, languorous. He set his glass down and let his hand land delicately over the one his guest had innocently left near him. They weren’t talking anymore, their eyes locked on each other. Lovino could feel his throat drying. As much as he liked to brag about his charm (this delightful creature was enough proof), it was the first time he would kiss a girl.

She went ahead first. She bent over the table, intertwining their fingers, and bringing their two faces closer. Lovino couldn’t move. Slowly, she applied her tempting lips to the young boy’s, silently asking to enter his mouth. He granted her access and their tongues found each other in a possessive ballet. It was simply magical. The best experience he ever lived…

He heard someone talking to him. Far. Far away from the marvelous apparition offering herself to him. Maybe a waiter asking them not to do such things in the restaurant. He did not care, for now he only cared about those lips to which the gloss gave a taste akin to… tomato? This girl was definitely perfect.

Unfortunately, the person asking for attention was insisting. Couldn’t they see he was busy doing something more important than paying the bill, really? The voice kept pushing, more distinct, more familiar. Lovino knew that voice. But he wasn’t going to listen, no sir! He wanted that moment to go on, and on…

Meeting the ground was a surprise. Lovino opened his eyes. No more chic restaurant, no more pretty girl, he was in his room and his brother was stuttering apologies, his blanket in his hands. And he had a bump on top of that. “Damn it, Feliciano! Would it kill you to have waited two more seconds?”

“Veeee… But, fratello…”

“I don’t give a shit, okay? On week-ends, I’M SLEEPING! So give me a fucking break!” He went back to bed and stubbornly closed his eyes, ready to keep the act. Then he opened them again and looked at his brother. “AND GIVE ME BACK MY FUCKING BLANKET, DAMN IT!”

“B-b-but… Fratello… vee…” Feliciano didn’t know what to do anymore. Lovino took the blanket from him and rolled himself in it until he looked like a giant burrito, then dropped himself on the mattress and snored exaggeratedly to let him know he was sleeping. Feliciano fidgeted with his hands for a few moments, then leaned towards his brother. “Lovino… You see, the cafeteria is closing in a half-hour and we won’t get a breakfast if we miss it…” A grumble raised from him, which meant the argument was getting to him. Feliciano had a playful smile and leaned forward to whisper in his ear: “They say on weekends, they have sfogliatella…”

The Italian went completely silent and Feliciano’s smile grew. He won. “Ok, I’ll come…” Lovino grumbled in his pillow.

“Veee!” Feliciano chirped before running to his closet to get his brother some clothes. Because of course he could get up before his brother, especially when food was involved. So he was dressed already. However, when he turned back to the bed, Lovino was still tightly wrapped up in his quilt, silent. “Well? Aren’t you getting up?”

“Yes, yes… I am, idiot…” A moment went by as Lovino struggled inside his blanket cocoon. They he stopped again. “Help me, dumb ass. I’m stuck…”

Of course, there were no sfogliatellas at the cafeteria. It was just the best way to get Lovino up when he was in a bad mood. Brother tactic, made in Feliciano. Thankfully, there were warm croissants and tomato juice. So Lovino wasn’t in too much of a huff, despite the absence of his favorite pastry.

Now cam the hard part: convince Lovino to come and visit all the clubs with Feliciano for club day.

“I’m sure there is an art club!”

“I’m not coming.”

“There is also a sport club, I saw them train.”

“I’m not coming.”

“Lud’ told me his brother was in a music club. Wouldn’t it be great if you could sing? I know you can do pretty well when you’re trying!”

“… I’m definitely not coming.”

“But… Fratello…” Feliciano had a disappointed frown. He had been looking forward to spending this day with his brother he loved despite his bad moods, his language, his manners and his hypocrisy… “Ve… I really don’t wanna go visit alone…”

“That’s your problem, you little shit.”

“I’d ask Ludwig but he said he was the journalism club’s captain…”

“…”

“So he’s gonna be in the History room all morning…”

“…”

“Well, I guess I could stay with him for the moment! And then we’ll go visit everything else in the afternoon, ve!”

“…”

“So I’ll be with Ludwig all day! Isn’t that neat?”

“… Okay, I’ll come with you.”

“Really?!”

Lovino nodded, looking like a man who’d just sentenced himself to death as Feliciano started dancing with joy around him. Well, it was still better than leaving his brother alone and vulnerable with the potato bastard.

“Oh… So you’re interested in the delicate and refined art of gastronomy?” Francis winked at them and turned around for a second to start the oven’s pre-heat timer. Romano took advantage of that time to stick two fingers in his mouth, showing his brother what he thought of the French boy. Feliciano refrained from laughing and tried to stay serious when Francis turned to them again with a large smile, ready to explain how delicate and refined his club was.

“Francis! Where the fuck is my loukoum pan?!” Sadiq yelled from the other side of the kitchen.

“In your ass, dick head!” Romano couldn’t help himself from saying before the French boy could even open his mouth. He was bored as hell after all, so might as well have a bit of fun!

Francis pinched his nose bridge with a sigh of despair as the Turk boy looked up from the stove to see who had the nerve to talk back to him like this. “Third cupboard, Sadiq!” he called to calm his friend down.

“Ve, ve, Francis?”

“Yes?”

“Can I join your club?”

A large smile split the French boy’s face in half. “But of course! The cuisine deserves to be shared!”

“Ve!”

“However, you must know we demand quality skills.”

“Ve!”

“If you wish to join, you will have to pass several quite strict tests to prove to us your gustative sensitivity and your culinary talents.”

“… Ve?”

“Oh, and please keep in mind that if you believe yourself better than me in cooking, I would be glad to have a friendly fencing challenge with you, what do you say?”

“V-ve?!”

A few minutes later, Francis went back to making his apple-pear-cinnamon pie.

“So, any candidates, aru?” Yao asked from the corner furthest from the stove, kneading his future almond biscuits

“They changed their mind,” Francis answered calmly.

“Fehu.”

“Nope. That was Ansuz.”

“Shit.”

“Could you knock it off? I’m trying to make a decent page in the grimoire and you guys are not helping!”

“Sorry, Dylan.”

“Boys, warn me when there is no more thyme! What do I use for my amulet, now?”

“Just take the verbena, Fiona. You could use it…”

“Are you saying I have emotional problems?”

“Uh… Yeah.”

“Well, fuck you!”

“Guys, for a ritual against fatigue, do I use cinnamon or rose incense?”

“Neither, Arthur. Use violet, read the grimoire again.”

“When the ink is dry!”

“I’m not an idiot, thank you very much!”

“And read the memory ritual again too!”

“And if you find one that helps get that stick out your ass, do it immediately, I’ll even help!”

“Thank you a lot, Oscar, Allister, Dylan. If I find one that gives you a brain, I’ll tell you…”

Feliciano and Lovino shared a glance. And then tip-toed back out of the Litterature room, promising to themselves they would not come back here after classes are over.

“Ah, hi boys!”

Mrs. Jones was there, paint brush in her hand, in front of her canvas. She stood up to greet the twins and they noticed her jeans covered in paint stains. The art room was quite empty compared to other clubs. Thankfully, the few students there were probably geniuses for the numerous works exposed on the walls and shelves were all beautiful.

“Are you here to join the art club?”

“I am!” Feliciano immediately chirped. “Romano, though…”

“Leave me out of this, dumbass…”

As his brother filled up the inscription chart with his name, class and signature, Romano took a look at the works. There was pottery, charcoal sketching, canvases, wood and stone sculptures, photography, models made out of trash. Everything. He looked down and saw three students that looked way too young to be here. The first one was a little girl wearing purple and a beret from which fell two long white braids. The second one was a little redhead with a fake scar across his face, and the last one was a little girl wearing a flower in her brown hair. They were all ten at most.

“They are the town’s children,” Aiyanna explained when she noticed Lovino’s interest. “They come here to paint almost every Saturday. I wouldn’t bother them if I were you.”

Indeed, despite their young age, they seemed extremely focused on their respective canvases. Especially the white haired girl. Even if she was still just using a pencil, her drawing was already wonderful. And the two others were close behind. Lovino couldn’t say he had such talent.

“Fratello! Fratello! Let’s go!”

In the meantime, in the french room…

“Finally! I was wondering when you were going to join!”

“Oh, uh, sorry?”

Tino smiled a little. He had had lunch with the “Nordics” all week but he didn’t know they were an actual club. At least, not until Berwald brought him here without asking like he always did… He really had to find some time to make things clear between them.

However, he really couldn’t see what kind of club they were. The French room didn’t have any real device, except for some empty closet nobody used. “Say, what kind of club is that?”

“Well we protect the school in the name of justice with incredible fu…”

“Forget it, he’s being stupid,” Lukas grumbled from his chair. He was reading, eyes as empty as usual, as his brother ate licorice sticks next to him.

“Actually, we don’t do much. It’s just a way of saying we’re a group. Sometimes we talk, or we play board games…”

“Oh, okay. So it’s kind of like a… friendship club?”

“Whoah, hey, that actually sound pretty good!” Mathias exclaimed. “A little lovey-dovey but it’s cool!”

Tino had a small shy smile.

“Well there you go! Oh, and incase you were wondering, yes, I am the king of this club!” said the boy with spikey hair, attracting looks of pity from the rest of the club. He went and grabbed Lukas’ shoulder with a large smile. “And this is my queen!”

Lukas calmly sat his book down, stood, looked at Mathias, kicked him in the legs, sending the Danish boy down, sat back down and went back to reading, all of this with a perfect self-control. Tino realized with a jump that he was already used to that kind of scene.

“So… If Mathias and Lukas are king and queen, what if Emil was the bishop, Berwald the rock and I would be the knight,” he said, hoping to lighten the mood.

Berwald immediately sent him a terrifying look and Tino screamed, then apologized for saying something so… Whatever Berwald thought of it. But when he looked up, the Swedish boy was just surprised.

“Ya d’n’t need t’ ap’log’ze.” He reached out and possessively pulled the finish boy close. Tino couldn’t move. “I j’st thought ‘t was c’te.”

During the week, when he had gone to get a book, Feliciano had wondered why the philosophy room’s closet was full of sleeping bags. Now he knew.

“Feli! Lovi! Are you joining the siesta club?”

Antonio thought it was very funny to compare the brothers’ reactions. As Feliciano had just tilted his head with interest, Lovino had crossed his arms, grumbled and looked away.

“Ve, siesta? It’s a club where you can sleep?”

“Hum… yes, but not just that. See the guy over there, with brown hair?”

Yes, the guy fighting with the Turk they had seen at the gastronomy club a half-hour ago. Hard to miss him. Especially because he had just fallen asleep. In the middle of the fight. Fist up, ready to punch his rival. Rival that seemed on the verge of despair and just let the boy fall on one of the sleeping bag, waiting for him to wake up. Yes, they saw him.

“Well, that’s Heracles, the club captain, he can make people fall asleep and control their dreams. Well, make them come into his dreams and control that.”

“Oh, ok. What about the guys trying to kill him?”

“Oh, that’s Sadiq, his roommate. They fight whenever Heracles is awake.”

“Oh, okay…”

The boy didn’t seem very patient. And Feliciano didn’t really want to know why he was wearing a mask.

“So, as I was saying, we have collective dreams here, so we do pretty crazy stuff. Last time, we did sky-diving-canoe over Niagara Falls.”

“That sounds awesome!” Feliciano exclaimed with stars in his eyes.

“It is! There is just one tiny problema…” He turned to the greek boy Sadiq was trying to wake up by slapping him so they could start fighting again. “He’s got narcolepsy. So we have to remind him to get us to sleep before he does. Otherwise it’s pretty hard to get him to wake up…”

In the end, the Turk just let it go and left a small metal box on the greek boy’s body before powerwalking away, looking pretty pissed.

“So, do you want to join?”

“Ve!” Feliciano confirmed.

“Ludwig! Ciao! Ciao, ciao!”

The German boy talking with Kiku had barely enough time to turn around before an overexcited Italian fell into his arms. He was starting to get used to his over-affectionate shenanigans and didn’t complain when the little brunet snuggled up to him for his “good morning hug”. However…

“Oh? Ciao, Kiku!”

The Japanese boy almost had an attack when his adorable classmate threw himself at him and kissed him on both cheeks while holding him so tight he was pretty sure his lungs were going to spill out through his nose. “F-F-Fe-Feliciano-kun, p-p-p-p-please let me go.”

Feliciana stepped back and Kiku tried his best to calm down. Since he got into the school, he was trying his best not to panic when someone stood a little too close or was a little too affectionate, but the Italian boy’s surprise-hugs were just too much. It wasn’t that he did not enjoy his company, he was probably the classmate that had been the friendliest to him so far. They just didn’t think the same way. To Kiku, a hug or a kiss was an affection gesture between old friends or close family, shouldn’t be done in public and meant deep feelings. To Feliciano, it was like saying “hi”.

As soon as he had his fill of hugs, Feliciano starting telling them everything about his morning, especially detailing the way his brother had been accidentally put to sleep by Heracles when he had bet with Antonio that he could wake him up.

“So, Ludwig? How is it going? How many members does the journalism club have so far?

Ludwig hesitated for a few seconds. “Two.”

“Two? Two that joined you, right?”

“No, we’re just two.” Facing the Italian’s stunned face, he explained: “We were three last year, but they were on their last year. So yes, that leaves only me, and Kiku who just joined.”

The boy turned to his Japanese classmate who nodded. “V-Ve?! That’s horrible!”

“If we’re organized, we can do a decent job.”

“But you are all alone! Ve, it’s too sad… I’ll… I’ll join!”

Ludwig’s eyes grew huge. “You?”

“Yeah!”

“You are interested in journalism?”

Feliciano nodded vividly. “For example, Papà has tons of very cool magazines with tons of pretty models and he has some he doesn’t want me to read but that are probably amazing because he keeps them under his mattress so he won’t lose them…

“Not that kind of journalism…”

Feliciano tilted his head. “What kind, then?”

And Ludwig spent two hours explaining how the school’s journal worked as Feliciano listened more or less attentively until he passed out on a table…

As for Kiku, he left the history room, quite glad he found a serious activity he could tell his parents about next time he’d send them an e-mail. They would probably be proud to know their son was part of the journalism club. And he was happy with it too. It was the best arrangement.

The day was only just beginning but the young Japanese boy knew he probably wouldn’t join any other club. He had no particular talent for cooking, arts or music, had a feeble constitution that would not do any good in sports, and really didn’t see the point in joining the “nap club”. As for all the other clubs, they seemed more like discussion groups, which was of limited interest. Well, he could always give them a chance.

Actually, as he thought this, he walked by the geography room. The paper sheet taped on it said “student help club”. Well this seemed quite honorable. Hesitating slightly, he stopped. What could be the harm in trying? He pushed the door.

Alfred was standing on top of a table and seemed in the middle of a longue explanation about the club’s objectives as two or three students around him listened with more or less interested faces. “… And so, the goal is to show everyone how HEROIC our club is by doing our HERO duty all year round, which means helping students who… Oh, hi, Kiku-chan!”

Kiku sighed. He felt like some mischievous yokai was pushing him towards the most active student in the school all the time, just to f… mess with him. He gestured at Alfred to not pay him any mind and to keep talking.

“Oh, yeah, what was I saying? Right, helping students who have trouble with their lessons, or with other students. For example…” He pointed at Kiku and everybody looked in his direction. The young boy mentally slapped himself for not leaving as soon as he had walked in. “Making sure new students adapt smoothly, even when you have to help them personally! Every member of the club must act this way! That’s the duty of HEROS!”

And he started laughing for no apparent reason. Kiku decided he had seen enough and left the room. He would not join this club.

He walked around in the corridors for a while. Sometimes, he’d step into a room to listen someone brag about their club’s merit, but he would always leave unconvinced. Morning was almost over and he was sure there wasn’t anything more to see. Maybe he’d better go find a seat at the library and wait for the afternoon’s performances.

As he walked down the corridor, a detail suddenly caught his eye. A small book with a laminated cover, conspicuously sitting around a corner of wall. He approached, intrigued, and recognized the cover of the first tome of Sekaiichi Hatsukoi. His eyes widened and he quickly checked that nobody was watching. Thankfully for him, the corridor was currently empty.

He approached slowly, carefully, as if the combination of ink and paper might jump at him to bite his face off. Glancing around frequently, he bent forward and reached out for the manga… that flew a few feet away when he was about to touch it. Startled, Kiku fell forward and had to catch himself with his hands. He looked up to the spot the manga had slipped to, mocking him. He frowned. The yokai playing with his nerves was at it again?

He stood up and, again, walked carefully to the manga that fled as soon as he tried to take it. Growing more and more surprised, he tried going faster to catch it but the small book just slipped faster out of reach. Defied, the Japanese boy ran after the manga, down the staircase and into the playground, until he saw it disappear into the PCD room.

Kiku hesitated to follow it inside. He could remember all too well the joke Luna-sensei had put up for them at the beginning of the week. He wasn’t one of those who had really panicked but the experience still had its effect. If it was another joke trying to jumpstart some sort of power he didn’t know about, he’d rather walk away now and lock himself in his room. But, on the other side, such a plan just to bring him here was intriguing. And it would be cowardly not to take the challenge.

After a few more moments of deliberation, he stepped into the room, curiosity stronger than prudence.

The room was empty. No manga around. Nobody either, nothing. Kiku took a few more steps, looked left and right. No, nothing at all. Well, there might be someone hiding in the stockroom, but that didn’t seem as important all of a sudden. He chose to overlook the commotion he could here in the projection room and was about to walk away.

When his hands suddenly slapped themselves over his eyes. All by themselves. He tried to gain back control but it was impossible. As if some puppet-master had attached strings to his fingers and kept them firmly over his eyes to blind him. He heard the projection room’s door fly open and a dozen people run towards him. They bonded his legs, as his hands still wouldn’t budge, and took him away. He did not panic, waiting to know more about the situation in order to act consequently.

He was sat on a chair and strapped down. His arms were bound behind his back and he could see where he was. Apparently, he was brought into the projection room. His chair was placed before the projection screen. The shades were down, so it was quite dark. A silhouette was standing before him. It’s wasn’t easy to see it clearly in the dark but he could make out a skirt and long hair, which led him to think it was probably a girl. Or Feliks with a wig, but Kiku wasn’t sure why Feliks would need to wear a wig. Whoever that was, her face was hidden behind a white, roughly cut paper mask attached to her head with a piece of string. The Japanese boy could also feel the less than silent presence of several other people behind him.

The young girl loomed over him. If she was trying to intimidate him, she wasn’t trying hard enough, he wouldn’t be scared with this.

“Kiku Honda, or “Kiku-chan”,” she recited with a strange accent, something that sounded eastern-European. Kiku tried not to cringe. The nickname sounded strangely more insulting in another mouth than Alfred’s. “First year student at Hetako Academy, aged fourteen…”

“Fifteen,” Kiku mechanically corrected.

“… Fifteen, Japanese and gifted with “origami life”.” She stopped, as if trying to raise the suspense. “You were seen on Saturday September 7th, at 1021, walking around the yaoi section of Mrs. Suzuki’s store. According to our informants, you have reacted in an unusual fashion to the presence of boys-love posters on the walls.”

She stopped and stepped back with a dramatic look to turn the projector on. The image that appeared on the screen was cut in half. The first half showed a perfectly unknown boy standing in front of a shonen-ai poster. Laos, according to the very crappy quality, the picture was probably taken a long time ago. The second half, however, was a lot more recent as it showed Kiku standing in front of the same poster. The other difference was the two boys’ expression. While the lambda boy was very distinctly cringing, Kiku had a very attentive face, although quite neutral.

The young girl took a laser pointer and try to show something on the screen with the small red point. She was probably trying to look scientific and confident.

“Contrary to a male individual of your age, you haven’t manifested any disgust. Instead, you have briefly shown a kind of fascination for this sort of art. Plus, we know from relatable sources that boys avoid the yaoi section and walk by quickly if necessary. You, however, haven’t manifested any hurry and went there freely.”

She turned the projector off before the neutral gaze of Kiku who was honestly wondering if she had nothing better to do than watch people’s reaction in the yaoi isle.

“Lastly, you have manifested a positive reaction to our test consisting of luring you here with this,” she said, showing him the first tome of Sekaiichi Hatsukoi which cover was just tied to an invisible wire. A few claps started behind him but he didn’t even look away. “Now, I’ll offer you two options,” she finished when everything was silent again. She walked to him ominously, managing to make him uneasy. “First option: freely join the shipping club. Second option: be forced to join. Please keep in mind before making your choice that I have the gift of dominance and so you cannot say no to me.”

Kiku thought for a moment, impassively scrutinizing the olive green eyes he could almost make out under the paper mask. But at the back of his mind, he was laughing. This was just a fangirl club offering him to join. Problem was, even if he wasn’t really against it, he could not let it be known that he was into this. It was against his honor. But, well, if he didn’t have a choice, he could just say he was forced to help out. “I accept.”

“You won’t take that back?”

“I don’t have a choice, do I?”

The young girl stopped and giggled silently. She tore her mask off, revealing a joyful face. “No, you don’t!” She gestured to the other to turn the light on and untie him. Kiku realized almost every girl in the school was there, including Mei and Faustina, watching him mockingly. There were about a dozen and a half. “Welcome to the club, Kiku-chan!” said Elizaveta, the one that had presented the little investigation, after she introduced herself. “Also, sorry about the whole act, I always wanted to do that!”

“I won’t hold it against you, Elizaveta senpai,” Kiku let slip. As soon as he said that, the shipping club captain suddenly blushed and hid behind her hands, squealing. Kiku gave her an incredulous look. “Elizaveta senpai? Is everything alright?”

“Yes, yes, I’m fine, Kiku-chan. I just…” She managed to pull herself together and breathed in deeply. “I always wanted to be called senpai by such a cute uke… Ahem, I mean a boy.”

Kiku decided to pretend he hadn’t heard anything. “May I add a clause to my admission?”

“Sure, what is it?”

“That nobody will call me Kiku-chan again, please…”

In the afternoon, three different performances were scheduled.

The sport club’s football game was unbearably long. Actually, the game itself was rather short, but they needed three more players to have a decent game and Elizaveta not only yelled at the public for someone to get down there with them, but also decided to be picky about it. She refused Feliciano and Tino, as she had them since their arrival on her “uke we should keep away from masculine activities” list, Heracles, who didn’t hold it against her as he fell asleep on the lawn until his Turkish roommate kicked him awake, Alfred, who might break the equipment and didn’t know the difference between American football and every single other country in the world’s football (AKA soccer), as well as Francis, because last time she had let him play he had gone on strike mid-game.

The rest of the club managed to negotiate the participation of Fausto, Antonio’s brother, of Tim, who was Bella’s, and of Young Soo who had pointed out that “football originated in Korea, daze~” and the game could finally begin.

After they picked the teams.

Because that was another issue. As Gilbert wanted to be against Eliza, but also with Antonio, Tim wanted nothing to do with the Hispanic brothers, Elizaveta was trying to get everyone to obey her, Logan, the Australian kid, was arguing with Gilbert about who was the best and Young Soo was messing around with the ball, there was some madness material. In the end, everybody calmed down when Ludwig started yelling at them for fifteen minutes and picked the teams himself.

So, there was on one side Elizaveta, Logan, Tim and Young Soo, and on the other Gilbert, Ludwig, Antonio and Fausto. And nobody as guardian. But at least the public was happy to see some football after so many shenanigans so nobody complained about the teams sizes. The players put on their numbered vests, the chronometer was started and the game began.

The score was almost a tie. They had excellent players in the club and nobody could surpass the others when it came to competitiveness. Or distraction techniques. For example Gilbert who would yell “I’M SO AWESOOOOOME” whenever he had the ball, and Young Soo who would grab every adverse boobs he could get his hands on and danced “gagman style” at every goal his team made. In the end, the germano-hispanic team won by chance when Gilbert managed kick the ball away from the goals and in the adversary one at the last second.

The whole school clapped when the teams shook hands. However, the albino did feel his fingers crack when Elizaveta grasped them. The Hungarian girl was miles away from enjoying defeat.

The swimming club’s relay race was a lot shorter. Two teams of three students were fighting to see who would do six lengths first. And the best swimmers were obviously Elizaveta and Logan who didn’t just give everything they got during the football game, but also truly made the competition spectacular.

Everything was done under the cheers of Rachelle, the team captain, a pretty little brunet with pigtails and tan skin, who categorically refused to put a foot in the water despite her role. And nobody knew why, except for the club members who had promised to keep it that way. That didn’t keep her from making heads turn in the room. Nobody was even asking how she became the club’s captain without ever swimming.

Tino, sitting in the second row between Berwald and Peter, leaned towards the younger boy to comment on the swimmers’ performance. Worried about the lack of response, he turned to him and smiled fondly at how Peter didn’t watch the race as much as he watched pretty Rachelle…

Lovino didn’t want to go to the auditorium to see the music club’s performance. Why? Because he was sick of everything. Really…

He was put to sleep by the narcoleptic guy. Okay.

His twin managed to go on without him and probably go find that fucking potato bastard even though he had come along for the sole purpose of him not meeting him. Not okay.

Plus, because of this dumb forced nap, he had woken up alone in the philosophy room, in the afternoon, with a note from Antonio saying “We’re at the game. Come and see us when you wake up!”, and signed with a smiling tomato.

So he was starving, alone, and didn’t want to go watch a game, or the music club’s show at the auditorium because looking at the time, the game had probably been over for a while…

Frowning, he got up and decided to go to the kitchen, to see if he could sneak out something to eat before dinner. He just hoped the cooking club had fucked off, especially the blond guy. That dude made him sick. If Lovino ever managed to be alone in a room with him, he would probably escape through the floor.

Walking down the hallway, he noticed the music room’s lights were on while everyone was supposed to be at the concert. Curiously, he peeked through the half-open door. The room as empty, some idiot probably forgot to turn the lights off. But he didn’t leave.

He looked left and right in the corridor to make sure nobody was around, then came in, feeling safer. The music room was quite large, with many storing units for the instruments. A large centimeters-tall platform was set before a dozen rostrum chairs. In a corner, a laptop was on and connected to two speakers, as well as several microphones, ready to be used.

Lovino thought in a hurry. Usually, the music room was always occupied by the students, or the music club. Unless there was a concert, like today. This was an opportunity that wouldn’t present itself very often.

He again made sure that nobody, NOBODY, was in the corridor at the moment, and carefully closed the door. Then, he silent sat at the computer and looked around for a bit. There were many songs in instrumental versions so that the musicians didn’t have to learn a new song every time someone felt like singing. There were all sorts of it, even from musicals or cartoons. Lovino waited for a second, hearing around for someone who walk in the corridor at that moment. Then he started a song he knew and ran to stand at the mics.

“Uno, due, tre…” he muttered. A south-american sounding melody flooded the room, slightly too loud for his taste but he didn’t want to go and find out how to lower the volume. He started to sing, feeling more confident as the lyrics ran smoothly from his mouth.

“Non sono proprio adatto io

Adiventar un nuovo dio

Non assomiglio neanche a un cherubin...”

A smile formed on his face. Lovino loved to sing. And he wasn’t bad at it. At least, he wanted to believe that. But he wasn’t stupid to the point where he couldn’t realize Feliciano, that adorable little angel everybody loved despite his happy ass face, was once again a lot better than him in that regard.

“Ora loro sono qui

In ginocchio, e per chi?

Non puo certo andar meglio di cosi...”

You just had to hear him sing a solo during miss Jones’ class. He had a light, effeminate voice that fit almost every song, soft and happy, or melancholic and sad. He was ashamed when he had to sing after him.

“Più di cosi più di cosi più di cosi...

OH MIO DIO!

E' duro fare il dio

Osannato dal corteo

E questa è la loro verità.”

He did not care anyway. Singing was for girls. Even if he liked it, he didn’t want people to hear it, it would be humiliating. No, if he had to sing, it was to himself.

“Una vera devozione

E non finisce qua

E' piuttosto imbarazzante

Questa mia notorietà

Non posso rifutare

Devo proprio accettare

Se mi dicono sei un dio

Io lo saro!”

He sung the rest of the song, trying not to think about his brother. He rarely let himself enjoy things and it was already embarrassing enough without a public, he wasn’t going to imagine himself in competition against the little marshmallow traitor he called his twin. When the music ended in a deafening roar of trumpets and drums, he went and set the laptop just the way he found it, bumping the microphones on the way. Nobody should know what he had d…

Elizaveta slightly waved at him from the room’s door. Behind her, Roderich was absent-mindedly cleaning his glasses. Lovino blushed violently, so mortified he couldn’t even try to think of an excuse. He just stood there, perfectly still, cheeks redder by the second. One might have wondered if he was still breathing. Worried, Elizaveta wanted to comfort him. “Don’t worry, you have a beautiful singing voice, you know that?”

Lovino immediately went from scarlet to burgundy and ran away, bumping into the two spies who had just come pick up a violin bow for the concert.

Elizaveta had a small smile and looked down at her phone. Roderich went to get his precious little bow and glanced at the screen his girlfriend was watching. “You shouldn’t have done that,” he said, reprovingly.

“I could need it, someday,” she quickly answered, putting the small device away.

The Austrian boy knew there was no talking her out of that kind of project. So he just took her hand and led her towards the auditorium.

#my work #fanfiction #hetalia axis powers #Crazy School #sufin #gerita #seachelles #aushun

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thomasreedtn · 6 years

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A Taste of Spring: San Antonio and Perfect Timing

Happy Spring Equinox to those in the Northern Hemisphere! (And Happy Fall Equinox to my Southern readers.)

I’ve been meaning to post a recap of our March 7-11, 2019 trip to San Antonio, but between Mercury Retrograde and Uranus moving into Taurus, life keeps redirecting me. Despite “delays,” large and little sync winks confirm the perfect timing of everything. As giant snowflakes fall outside my windows right now, my San Antonio photos will give a much better taste of Spring.

Another sync wink occurred on March 5, just as I finished selecting clothes to pack. For context, on Valentine’s Day, I decided to read The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings —back to back– with no other books or coursework in between. I finished The Hobbit in about a week, but I am still reading LOTR! Depending on the edition, that’s around a 1,200 page book, so this next part seemed significant. Just before David pulled into our driveway on March 5, I reached this part of LOTR on my Kindle:

I read this on the fifth of March, right before a seeming mishap occurred. The astounding sync wink in a 1,200 page book made me laugh and provided immediate perspective that all was in Divine and perfect order. As predicted, the mishap turned out be no big deal, especially for the chaotic energies of that day. This synchronicity set the tone for our entire trip to San Antonio, which went smoothly, despite Mercury Rx, Uranus zippy zaps, and perfect timing “delays.”

David needed to go to San Antonio for work training the following week, and we took advantage of a company paid flight for him with me tagging along. His daughter Allie lives in nearby Austin. We planned for Friday in Austin and a weekend in San Antonio with Allie and boyfriend Matt. Such fun! I’m not going to write a full account of our trip, but we enjoyed some amazing vegan food in both cities. Big synchronicities continued to pop through along the way.

On Thursday, March 7, Tania Marie and I began texting back and forth. David was driving us to a mission I learned about long ago in the movie “Still Breathing,” — one of my favorite love stories with themes of creativity, dreams and synchronicities. As soon as Tania’s reply came through, we drove past Nestors:

Nestor, aka “Nestie,” was Tania’s twin soul bunny who expanded way beyond body back eleven years ago. She still comes through at key moments, especially for Tania. When David and I arrived, the tourist part of Mission San Jose had already closed for the day, but I noticed these cuties at the foot of St. Francis:

Tania’s beloved tortoise Gaia and rabbits Joy and Cosmo, all no longer her in physical form. The bunny looks more like Joy, but Cosmo had more white fur. I sent both photos to Tania, knowing they were messages for her. The animal messages from beyond continued on Saturday, when our parking garage looked out on “MAVERICK,” the dearly departed dog of another friend of mine. I sent her the photo, and sure enough, she had just asked for a sign from him:

We happened to visit both Austin and San Antonio on their busiest tourist weekends ever, so our trip involved a lot of waiting. Waiting for tables, waiting for tours, waiting for a light show, needing to loop back to places we just missed: yet everything felt so in tune that we didn’t mind.

Here are some photos from Mission San Jose, which we got back to on Saturday morning before Allie and Matt joined us in San Antonio:

Above and close-up below, you can see the famous “Rose Window,” a great love story enfolded into a the love story of “Still Breathing,” which takes place in Los Angeles and San Antonio:

We sat in the cathedral before heading to San Antonio’s Riverwalk:

This gardener loved all the tropical plants and waterfalls.

Besides just visiting with each other, we each chose the Riverwalk Architectural Boat Tour as the favorite part of our trip.

We remembered the Alamo and paid our respects, but opted not to wait in the massive line for a tour. Instead, we hung out with the Live Oak. This historic tree is so massive, I could not fit much of it into photos. No picture does it justice anyway. If you ever visit the Alamo, be sure to pay your respects to the Live Oak. It feels like a tree from Middle Earth:

We browsed a huge crystal selection downtown, then had dinner and browsed more in the quaint Pearl District. Of course, this gardener marveled at the size of the publicly planted chard. Maybe everything is bigger in Texas!

Same general area after sunset:

San Antonio has gorgeous architecture! Even just walking or sitting outside brings a feel of history and charm. Good thing we didn’t mind sitting outside, because our one activity planned to occur at a specific time … did not occur. At 8:30 p.m., we Uber’d our way to San Fernando Cathedral, which David and I had walked to earlier that morning. The famous Cathedral Light Show runs every night at 9:00, 9:30 and 10:00 p.m. We got there early in anticipation. This was Saturday, March 9 — a fact that becomes important in just a bit.

We waited and waited and then Matt noticed some statues across the street. Since not many people filled the plaza, we figured we had time to check them out. The first grouping showed “The Founders.”

“56 Canary Islanders founded a village, ‘San Fernando de Béjar,’ after arriving March 9, 1731.

“They walked nearly 1,200 miles from Veracruz, with children, livestock and all their worldly possessions, for more than six months after a previous six month journey across the ocean in a small wooden vessel.

“Sent by Spanish King Felipe V, to found the first official civil government in the province of Texas, they were greeted by a Franciscan friar, soldiers from Presidio de Béjar, and indigenous people of the nearby missions.

“Today, the village is the city of San Antonio.”

Matt noticed the date first. “March 9th! What are the odds?!”

I then told Allie and Matt about the March 5th LOTR synchronicity. As I type this up, I notice even more synchronicities: 1,200 pages, 1,200 miles. Both stories tell of a year long journey …

We returned to San Fernando Cathedral just as an evening service let out, and lots more people gathered for the 9:00 show. Minutes ticked by, as we all enjoyed the warm evening air. A half hour went by. No show. Allie and Matt checked their phones and saw that the first show was cancelled but the others would occur on time. 9:30 came and went. We laughed and visited, the weather so pleasant that everyone in the crowd talked and laughed.

Allie started playing a visual/mind game on her phone, which she and Matt had plateau’d on for months. As we sat and chatted, we all watched her play and somehow, she broke through! Months of trying and just sitting there with us marveling at her skill, she leapt to long awaited the next level. We all cheered as 10:00 came and went. No light show, but all the colors, forms and celebration of Allie’s game filled us with delight. The unexpected breakthrough while waiting seemed so symbolic. Very Uranus in Taurus.

The next day brought more schedule shifts, delays, good conversation and perfect timing. In the bigger picture, everything always aligns. Here we all are at the top of the Tower of the America’s looking over San Antonio:

This long post gives a tiny glimpse of pervasive synchronicities and blessings in disguise. So lovely to visit with Allie in Matt where Spring had already sprung, and a Michigan visit will feel mighty nice for them come Summer.

Whatever season you find yourself in now, I wish you well. May those touches of the Divine, what I call sync winks, fill your life with peace and wonder. Happy Spring, Blessed Be … and be the blessing!

from Thomas Reed https://laurabruno.wordpress.com/2019/03/20/a-taste-of-spring-san-antonio-and-perfect-timing/

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veosullivan406 · 7 years

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The Long Weekend

Posted on Wordpress on May 20, 2017 by V. E. O'Sullivan

I arrived in Big Timber on the afternoon of April 27th. I spent that evening with friends, cutting up and sipping my glass of wine and finally allowing myself to relax. After rushing the week prior to my departure, it was strange to be sitting still without anything on my list screaming to get done or a destination I had to make it to by a certain time. I was in Montana and I had two and half days before the short trip to Big Sky and my new home at the 320 Ranch.

It was still rainy and overcast and cold. 37 degrees cold. I knew better than to just pack everything up in the totes. Thankfully, I had packed plenty of layers and a nice warm hoodie in my travel bag. And I needed every layer.

Driving up to Sojourner Ranch was wet and windy. The Krug’s cows were out and about and I had to navigate around them to get to the gate. Babies were everywhere sleeping and playing and staring at me in wonder. The grass was eaten down; the irrigation ditch was off; gates I didn’t know existed were shut and required hopping out to open and shut them quickly. I hadn’t been out that early in the year before, and it almost looked and felt like a different place.

I thought I would be excited to reach my grandparent’s gate… But the thought of them being back in Georgia and not on the hill waiting for me dulled my emotions. I snapped a picture and sent it to her. When I pulled through, Banjo and Koda were in the bottoms eating and raised their heads in curiosity when they heard my truck. Realizing I had come alone and without any four-legged friends, they resumed grazing.

I crested the hill and the McKenzie Flats opened up around me allowing me full visual access to the Beartooths to the south and the Crazies to north. Immediately to my right and left, however, were the buildings my grandparents built with their own hands – with the help of several Big Timber folks kind enough to lend a hand and spare some of their time. But my grandparents weren’t there. I was the one making the initial trip out, keys in hand, to open up the house and the barn. Even if it hadn’t been in the 40’s, it would have still been cold – almost uninviting. Strange how a place gains life with the presence of its tenants and loses it in their absence.

I pulled around to the back of the barn to unload my tack and rearrange my stuff with the extra room it allowed. It began to spit ran on me as I was finishing and I made my way to the house to check off my list of things to do there. It was a hesitant walk up the stairs and to the door. In times past, I’d be sprinting up the few steps and flying in the door to embrace the nearest grandparent. Not this time. It was just me there – and all the lovely birds and their droppings. I slid the key in the lock and turned it. I’d be the first one in this year.

Plastic covered the furniture and there were dead flies scattered under the windows. She’d told me what to do with those – fold the plastic and put it all in the closet; vacuum the floors – but it was a foreign place to me in that state. I set to work getting the house “opened up” and was finished relatively quickly with the plastic folding and putting away. I decided to leave the flies until the next day. Now for the outside tasks: move the benches to their designated sides of the porch. The east-, north- and west-facing sides were easy. But the south side has one larger bench and required a little extra time and maneuvering. Soon I was finished with that and headed back down to the Krug’s to relax.

I spent a long while doing nothing and letting my body rest. But as I sat and the hours passed, I was getting hungry. A quick text and I had plans to eat at The Thirsty Turtle.

I met my buddies for a “sammie” and the Thirsty Turtle’s amazing sides – fried pickles and sweet potato fries. And a vodka tonic to top it off. I don’t usually eat fried foods, but there are a few exceptions and those are at the top of my list. Especially when you dip them in their secret Cajun ranch. By the end of our meal, we had grown from three to four and we meandered over to The Grand for an additional drink. With few places to end up in Big Timber on a Friday night, our party of four grew to a lively bunch of eight. Our poor waitress had her hands full with our antics, but we kept the noise in check and had a merry time.

Word reached us of the 90’s night across the street, and with the rest of the patrons at the Grand staring in our direction of a good time, we decided to slide over to the Timber Bar. After walking in and feeling the room close in around me, I made my way back out the door to collect my nerves. I don’t care for small spaces and a big crowd. I really don’t even like big spaces and a big crowd. Too many people and things going on at once, and I end up with an uncomfortable sensory overload. Luckily, I didn’t enter that establishment alone, and I nestled in among my buddies in a spot I thought was a safe haven. One stiff squeeze on my shoulders and a foreign body against my back and I was even further in amongst my friends. Reason number 73894759589 why I hate big crowds: my personal bubble is invaded by strangers!

An honest mistake of persons on their part and any crisis was averted. I still kept my back to the bar from that point, just to be safe. We hung there for a long while. Music I’d never heard blared from the speakers and a few I thought I’d heard before played here and there. Several happy people shared a song or two with a partner on the dance floor, but the majority of the patrons gathered around the tables and the bar. We snagged an empty table at some point and used it as a people watching station. Very entertaining. Which was before I became the object of someone else’s people watching. I was convinced to “try my feet” at country swing dancing. Thankfully, I had a gracious teacher who didn’t mind repeatedly doing the move over and over again. I think I grasped the concept by the end.

Someone mentioned they had chocolate cake back at their house. It was about midnight, why not have cake? So we drove across town for chocolate frosted cake a few last laughs. A quick bite and a drink turned into an extended outing with old friends and new friends and a heck of a fun time.

I went to bed in Montana for the second night worn out and happy.

Saturday broke with a clear sky and fairly warmer temperatures than the day before. Driving up to the house was less dreary than Friday, and I took my time getting started and tried to soak up all the sunshine that I could. Vacuuming didn’t take long, and I had the whole morning to waste. I sat on the back porch, with my coat still on, and closed my eyes in the warmth of the sun. It was fantastically quiet, save for the wind which lent a chill to the air. But I didn’t mind. I was just happy to be there, right where my feet were.

We had plans to meet up at The Fort for a trip to Billings. My buddy needed replacement saddle parts and I had asked to tag along. Even though I traveled back the way I had just come, it was a better ride than the one I’d had on the way in. Accompanied by my friends and riding along under the clear Montana sky was invigorating. We grabbed my buddy’s saddle parts and headed over to Scheels – which was hands down the coolest sporting goods store I’ve ever been to. A little meandering around both stories of the store, we headed for home and dinner. Lonestar Pizza called our names and we order three pizzas for a good judge of their work, of course. What is pizza night without a good scary movie, right? On the way back to the house, we grabbed Sinister and settled in for a good scare.

Which I missed out on. Pretty sure I passed out about 30 minutes into the movie. Oh, well. It had been a great day with great company, but I needed the rest.

Sunday came too early for my tired self. It was another beautiful day and I had a church service to make. I gathered up all of my crap and re-loaded the truck with the things I had taken out of it: plants, travel bag, cooler, and laundry bag. I stopped at the Fort for one last cup of their coffee and headed to Big Timber Evangelical Church. I was a little late, but luckily the back row was open and I slid in an empty seat. After the service, I said hello and goodbye to surprised friends and told them my grandparents were on my heels.

Not sure if it was the Spirit moving on my heart, but I struggled to keep my composure whilst conversing. I wanted to breakdown and cry. I’ve always found it funny, and really almost perfect, that God uses the time I spend in services to really work on my walled-up heart and stifled thoughts making His presence known. It isn’t always in a church building; He moves on my heart even at any given point in my day. And I suppose He does that to everyone who chooses to come before Him, but in that instance His gentle calling was digging up more than just my adoration for Him. All the emotions I had shoved down about leaving were coming up, too. I had barely made it out of there before the tears started seeping out. I was raw and exposed and my heart was calling out for a comfort and a peace that I couldn’t conjure for myself.

Nothing a still moment in the truck with a little Phil Wickham couldn’t salve. Ha. Yeah, right. Nothing a little worship couldn’t dissolve my walls and containers any better. I’m not complaining. Who better to cry to than the One who’s always with me? It was time to let go and feel again. I backed out and headed west on I90 again.

I couldn’t go through Bozeman without having lunch at Dave’s Sushi. It was my last “vacation” treat. Once I got to the ranch, I knew I had to transition into “real life” and I wanted to end my trip with a nice treat. For any sushi lovers coming through Bozeman, from that experience and past ones, I highly recommend Dave’s and the Twin Fin, Widespread Panic, Street Taco and the Jack Sparrow rolls. Totally satisfied my sushi craving. And just like that lunch was over and it was time to hit the road again.

For the drive out I had Spotify repeating and shuffling my road trip playlist. Which had worked perfectly up until I hit Big Timber and then I was over my selections. But I had been given a series by Andy Stanley to listen to before I left, and I had forgotten up until then that I had it. I stuck disc one in of “Taking Responsibility for Your Life: Because Nobody Else Will”. Perfect, right? It couldn’t have been more perfect once he began his message and it’s a series I recommend highly.

The first disc ended a little before Big Sky, and I switched it out for disc two as carefully as I could. Andy talked me all the way to the bridge over the Gallatin river that takes you into the 320 Ranch. I pressed pause and parked in front of the office. Carla met me to show me over to my new home and I changed back into “go mode”. Time to unpack all the crap I’d transported from Dawsonville, GA to Buffalo Horn Creek Rd, Gallatin Gateway, MT. (The ranch is 15 miles south of the census-designated area of Big Sky.)

I met a few of my bunk mates, who kindly helped me with the two large and cumbersome totes strapped in the bed of my truck, and set to work unloading and putting away my clothes, shoes, bedding, and toiletries. Once I was through, I ventured back down the hallway to the kitchen where I could hear the voices of my bunk mates carrying on.

I’m an introvert by nature, but because of my prudent mother and my line of work, I’ve made it a habit to practice being an extrovert. I put on my social hat and dropped my anxieties at the door. Instantly, I could tell this bunch was going to be a blast living and working with. Each of them was welcoming and cool and nonchalant. I had come in at quitting time and they were already letting their hair down. What better way to break the newbie in than a little game of Gentleman’s Beer Pong – sans beer? I was a little rusty and I think I might have made a total of 8 cups, but it was fun and a great ice breaker.

I turned in early, happy and less anxious than I had been upon my arrival. Tomorrow was the first day of work and I was excited to begin.

05.19.2017

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