#i have an ap art course next year and the summer homework is that we have to keep a sketchbook
Text
counting the fucking days
#note to self never tell my mom anything ever#i have an ap art course next year and the summer homework is that we have to keep a sketchbook#and so my mom took that to mean that i have to give up digital art for the whole fucking summer#and every piece of art that i do on the ipad instead of the sketchbook she gets on me for#bitch i guarantee you that it’s not as big and important as you think it is#in fact i know that it’s not that important!! bc my friend took the same class and said that you literally spend the first day on it#and then never talk about it again#i’m still gonna do it bc it’s good practice but still.#she’s making too big of a deal out of it#i also got two hours of sleep last night#and when i told her she just blamed it on the fact that i took a nap yesterday and that’s why i couldn’t sleep#like?? ok i get that???#but that’s also not something i can control???#like if i’m exhausted then i’m exhausted and i’m going to sleep#i just want some fucking sympathy not a giant lecture where you make it into who’s wrong who’s right#just so you can feel better about yourself#god i just wanna be out of here#idc how i get out i just want out of this hell#k.txt#vent tw
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
August {III} Are You Sure?
Previous: August II
Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Reader
Genre: Fluff, Smut
Rating: NC17
Warnings: Kissing, Making Out, Oral Sex, Consensual Safe Sex between 2, 18 Year Olds (it’s very clear), Talking About Sex, Birth Control, Swearing, Losing Virginities (antiquated I know)
Word Count: 6.7K
Summary: Two summers pass and each one gets steamier and steamier.
Notes: ARE WE FINALLY DONE WITH TEENAGE THEM? ALMOST.
Listen: August, Taylor Swift; The Last Great American Dynasty, Taylor Swift; I Think He Knows, Taylor Swift; Cinema, Harry Styles; Crush, Gavin Degraw
Tag List: @4ksj, @jagiya, @ot7nem, @knjkitten, @teamtardis-notdead
Tag List
Master List
7 Summers Ago
You waited in the Adirondack chairs as the sun went down and the stars began to show. Your moms were at some dinner with both Kim’s at Bar Harbor, leaving you, EJ, Taehyung and both his siblings and yours to roam the beach. The younger Kim’s had been tucked in bed at 10PM, but left to play quietly on their ipads until their parents came home. EJ was too busy hooking up with Yoongi, who her parents somehow allowed to stay with them, and unsupervised, because EJ was most definitely not having sex. Which, wasn’t a total lie. She most definitely was having sex with Yoongi, oral sex, digit sex… all the sex that comes as foreplay before penetration. And she most definitely knew what it felt like to climax, a fleeting sensation you hadn’t yet explored.
It wasn’t for lack of trying, but lack of time. Too many activities, too much homework, too much to prepare for senior year. Your preliminary SAT and ACT scores were good, strong but could be better. They needed to be better if you wanted a shot at an Ivy. Extracurriculars and letters of rec would do a lot for you, plus the whole two-moms and being biracial was definitely going to help as well… but that was no guarantee an Ivy would care. You spent the first part of summer organizing the lists of schools to apply to, some state schools and public institutions, then listed the six Ivy’s you wanted to try and get into: Columbia, Brown, Yale, Princeton, Cornell and Dartmouth. And Stanford, the almost Ivy. In total you had twelve schools to apply to, twelve schools to impress, twelve schools to prove your worth.
“Hey,” a voice said behind you, and you knew without looking that Taehyung had finally cleaned up the kitchen from dinner and was coming to join you. “I stole this from my parents stash back home.”
You took the can of beer and stared at it.
“Underage drinking? Taehyung Kim who are you?” You asked.
“I thought it might be fun, drink it together then bury it in the recycling bin before my parents come home.”
“Okay,” you said and cracked the top. The first sip made you wince, why was beer so gross?
“Do you hate it?” He asked as he sipped. In his letters to you, he’d alluded to the fact that he’d gone to a party or two or five where drinking was happening. He made it clear that it was a means to an end, a way to prove he was cool and worthy of being at the party, but he usually filled a solo cup with water and pretended he’d snuck a pour of vodka from the freezer or liquor cabinet or wherever the parents of his peers hid their hard booze.
“Yeah, it’s nasty.” You looked at the label, not recognizing it and handed him the can again. He sipped and winced, too.
“So beer isn’t our drink.”
“It most certainly is not.”
“Good to know now so that next year we’re ready.”
“God, can we not talk about next year for like, ten minutes?” You begged.
“Of course. What are you taking this year?”
“AP Physics, AP Lit, APUSH, AP Studio Art. You?”
“AP Lit, APUSH, AP Chem and AP Calc.”
“Are we going to survive?”
“I doubt it.”
“Hey – you never wrote to me about Junior Prom. Did you ask that girl?”
“Girl?”
“Yeah, in your letters you made comments about having a crush with wide dark eyes and a smile that when it expands, reminds you of wings. You were totally crushing. Did you go to prom with them?”
“I uh – no. I didn’t go to prom with him.”
“Him?”
“Yeah, I think I’m bi, or pansexual… I’m not sure yet.”
“Oh, cool,” you shrugged. This was in fact not totally new information. “That’s why when I talked about how hot Seokjin’s become you agreed, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it is.”
“He’s gotten hotter. I don’t know how that happened but it’s really fucking getting to me.”
“Whoa – swearing too? Has one sip let you loose?”
“Shut up!” You said swatting his arm.
“He is looking hot, so is Namjoon.”
“Yeah, they’re coming up for a week and bringing Hoseok and Yoongi which, seems unfair.”
“That they have a lot of hot friends?”
“Yeah, but I have you, and you’re like…. Hotter than all of them combined so it’s fine.”
“Shut up,” Taehyung said blushing.
“You’re a model, Kim.”
“So are you, Y/N.”
“Don’t,”
“What?”
“Lie. I’m no you,”
“You don’t have to be,” He said and leaned over the arm of his chair. “You’re perfectly you.”
You turned your head and leaned across to meet his lips. They were soft and patient, reminding you what it was like to kiss him like you had summers before.
“Did your prom date ask you to be his girlfriend?” Taehyung asked as he pulled away.
“No, we’re not a couple. I don’t really want to date him.”
“Why not? I thought he was interesting and considerate?”
“Yeah, he is, but you know,” you shrugged, allowing your sentence to hang. “I did get asked out by the captain of the varsity basketball team.”
“Oh? Did you say yes?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“He’s an idiot and his parents are republicans. You really think my moms would allow that?”
“That’s true. What if you fall in love at college?”
“That wasn’t even ten minutes!”
“Sorry, sorry!”
“It’s a moot point anyway, I’m kind of pining over someone. I guess I like the feeling of unrequited love a little too much to date.”
“You’re wise beyond your years, but don’t let that unrequited love dictate your future.”
“It’s not totally unrequited,” You said, knowing full well he understood you meant him.
“No, it’s not,” he leaned in again, this time kissing you with fervor and heat. “Can we go to yours?”
“Yeah,” you stood and took his hand, walking side by side into your cabin and to your bedroom. You shut the door, grateful that Max was crashing at Taehyung’s house with his siblings.
Taehyung kissed you as you turned around, lips moving in tandem with yours as his hands cupped your cheek. You’d both had practice since last summer, kissing other people. Taehyung had gone out with some girl his parents had set him up with, and you had gone on a few dates with a guy named Mark who was totally fine and it more fizzled than burned out.
“Can I,” Taehyung started, then sat back and looked at you.
“Take my shirt off?” You filled in his unasked question, because you had the same one.
“Yeah?”
“Yes.”
It seemed like a natural progression, moving from kissing occasionally the summer before, okay and completely making out on more than one occasion, to this… to topless kissing and hands exploring. It was safe and it was comfortable, he was looking out for you and you were looking out for him. And, of course, it was Taehyung. Taehyung who you’d crushed on since you were fifteen… Your best friend, and you his.
It was all going, rather well, until you heard the front door open and footsteps getting louder and louder as they approached your door.
“Shit,” you muttered as you reached for your shirt and tossed it on. Taehyung did the same and sat on the floor, hoping his swollen lips and mussed hair wouldn’t give anything away.
“Y/N?” Your mama asked as she opened the door, her eyes widening as she saw Taehyung on your rug, legs crossed, and you sitting on your bed. “You know the rules.”
“I’m sorry,” you said quickly.
“I should go,” he said standing quickly. “Have a good night.”
“You too, and you, living room.”
Your mama didn’t need anytime going from cool and collected to angered parent. She did it so quickly it could give someone who was unfamiliar with her reactions whiplash.
“Jackie!” she called.
“Yes? Y/N, why are you up?”
“It’s 10pm, it’s not that late.” You countered.
“Don’t you have work in the morning?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Taehyung was here,” mama said. “In her room, with the door closed.”
“Y/N!” Mom said.
Your hands shot up, defending yourself. “I’m sorry!”
“I thought we had an understanding, no closed doors, no boys in the house when we’re not here,” your mom said.
“I know,” you said.
“Do we need to buy condoms?” She asked.
“Oh my god!” You exclaimed, blushing furiously.
“Well, you’re not on birth control, and you’re having a boy in your room with the door closed. Do we need to buy protection for you?” Mama asked, clearly and with a hint of fear that you, her precious daughter was becoming sexually active.
“I don’t think so.”
“But you might need them this summer?”
“I – I don’t know,” you answered sheepishly.
“We wanted to get you on birth control before college,” Mom said.
“You do?”
“Yes, you never know what could happen. The world isn’t a safe place and it’s better to be protected than to be vulnerable. But we didn’t expect, I guess we should’ve,” mama sat down, exhaling loudly.
“You know the risks, of sex before you’re on the pill or have an IUD?”
You nodded.
“Verbal confirmation please,” Mama requested.
“Yes,” you said clearly.
“Even with condoms, they are not –
“I know.”
“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation,” Mom muttered.
“Yeah, I had health. Remember I got an A?” You replied, regretting the snark you’d chosen for that question. You watched as your mom rolled her eyes and your mama shook her head.
“Of course, you did, but taking a class and having it be your reality are very different things.” Mom said.
“I’m sorry I broke the rules.” You apologized.
“Is EJ having sex?” Mama asked.
“Mama!”
“It’s a valid question, dating that older boy,” Mom said.
“No, she’s really scared that because he’s older, if something happens her parents will like totally wig out.”
“Makes sense.”
“I would be worried.”
“Well luckily Taehyung turns eighteen a few months after I do,” you said. They knew, how could they not? You scrambled from the day your birthday was over all the way until his trying to find the perfect gift and mail it on time. They’d been watching you, and taking you to the post office, for years now.
“Right, but now you’re seventeen, so can you please promise us, you won’t do anything drastic until you’re eighteen?”
You thought about it, what was a few months? But in a few weeks Taehyung would be back in his home and you would be in yours, and you couldn’t… you didn’t want to take that next step with some guy from school. Ew. No, if you were going to do it before college it would have to wait until next summer. Then you’d be protected, right?
“Okay,” You grumbled.
“I would like that in writing,” Mama said.
“Oh Teresa, stop,” mom chuckled. “I’ll draft it in the morning.”
“You know this is how teens end up pregnant, celibacy pacts,” you reminded them.
“We could take her to the urgent care and get it,” Mama offered.
“She could have side effects, what if she starts the wrong one and has a bad reaction? I’d rather take her to her pediatrician and go over options and make an educated decision instead of just shoving the pill on her.”
“Hello?” You asked. “Can I be a part of this conversation?”
“Of course, honey,” mom said.
“I want an IUD. I’ve done the research, and yes they hurt and are more expensive, but they offer the best protection from unwanted pregnancy for the longest time. I want, I want that.”
“She is our daughter after all,” mama commented.
“Okay, when we get back we’ll take you to your doctor,” mom decided. “And you’re grounded for the week, no seeing Taehyung except at work.”
You arrived to the mall and sat at the empty picnic table that awaited weary workers before and after their shifts. But you weren’t alone for long, because EJ, having the day off, came to support you on your first day back.
“Yo,” she said sitting down. “You will not believe what I heard.”
“So, I think I’m going to start birth control,” you whispered, pulling EJ closer to you.
“What?” she yelled, directly into your ear.
“Yeah, my parents walked in on me and Taehyung last night and they wanted me to start before college but they’re gonna start it now.”
“Is that what you want?”
“Yeah, I think so? I mean, I only want to have sex with Tae, but we can’t this summer because my moms will ground me every day if I do.”
“Oh my god did they make you sign a virgin pact?”
“Yeah, and they asked if you’re having sex with Yoongi.”
“I’m assuming you lied.”
“Of course.”
“Good, my mom doesn’t need to know anything. So you’re grounded this week?”
“Yeah, because he was in my room with the door shut.”
“Oh my god, ladies!” Clara exclaimed as she came up to the table, smile on her face, new summer clipboard in her hand.
“Hi Clara,” EJ and you grumbled.
“EJ, aren’t you supposed to be at Pirate’s Treasure Chest?”
“I have today off.”
“Oh, well you’ll both be excited to hear that you, Y/N, are officially moved to the candy section and out of ice cream!”
You stared at her, unsure why that was exciting news. Ice cream was difficult, sure, but to deal with all those customers? No thank you.
“Why?”
“It’s because she got hot, isn’t it?” EJ asked Clara.
“Oh my god,” you slapped her arm. The sound echoed in the near empty strip behind the stores. “This isn’t a YA summer romance, I didn’t just get hot over the school year and no one noticed.”
“You sure?” EJ asked. “I know someone who has been thinking about you.”
“Who?” Clara asked, then realized she wasn’t part of the conversation. “Anyway, your shift starts in five. Have you seen your boyfriend?”
“Boyfriend?” You asked in confusion.
“Taehyung, duh,” she said.
“Oh, he’s probably out front, waiting for you to let him in.”
“He wasn’t when I walked in but I’ll go double check. I’m sure he’ll be happy to have you as his work wife again.”
Clara turned and used her key to get into the back room of the candy store, ponytail swaying and bopping as she walked. She clearly hadn’t changed in the year since you saw her.
“She’s gonna be prom queen, isn’t she?”
“Then marry a republican senator and eventually stand by him when his sex scandal breaks.”
“Yikes,” you sighed. “So who has been talking about me?”
“I’m sworn to secrecy,” EJ teased.
“You’re the worst.”
“Hey, EJ!” Taehyung appeared from the door Clara just entered, big smile on his lips.
“Hi,” she said – they had been spending plenty of time together this summer before you arrived. A fact that made you insanely jealous. But you got EJ all school year, and you got Taehyung… well in ways EJ never would.
“Y/N we gotta wash up and then I’m training you on candy,” he informed you.
“Great, you gonna be a drill sergeant?” You asked.
“That’s are you going to be a drill sergeant, sir, to you,” Taehyung winked, waved to EJ and disappeared back into the shop.
“He likes you,” EJ said.
“Considering we were topless making out on my couch, I’d say yes, he does like me.”
“And you like him,”
“He’s fine.”
“Oh come on, don’t act like you don’t pine after him all school year, hoping he’ll make some long distance move and you’ll be together.”
“I like the hope of him, never quite turning into anything real. It’s, fun. It’s breezy.”
“It stops you from going out with other people,” EJ reminded you.
“Who wants to date me back home anyway? No one.”
“That’s not true.”
“Whatever. When do Seokjin and Namjoon get here?”
“Tomorrow night. They said they wanted to give us one night together until they steal you away and ruin your summer.”
“I hate that they enjoy college but not enough to stay there all summer,” you said as you stood and collected your items.
“Same. I don’t miss them at all,” EJ lied. “I’ll come by at one and we’ll bike home?”
“I’m grounded remember?”
“Yeah, from Taehyung, not me.”
She was right, your moms had no problem when you rode up to the house with EJ next to you, or when she came in, gave them a hug and collapsed on the couch, ready to watch TV or play games.
“Go swimming,” Mama said as she came out of the kitchen to stare at you and EJ. “Please, not in the house.”
“Fine,” you groaned and changed quickly into your swimsuit.
EJ was already outside, at the end of the dock, applying sunscreen to her arms and legs. You walked out and let her slather your back in the white concoction before doing the same to hers.
“Are your moms really that mad?”
“I don’t know, but I know they’re going to regret grounding me.”
“Why?”
“I’m so much more annoying when I can’t see Taehyung than when I can.”
“That’s true, I can confirm that,” EJ laughed. She took the first jump, spinning and plummeting into the water. You followed suit, jumping in after her and laughing as you came up for air.
“I think he dates other people during the school year,” you confided, your suspicion more an idea and a thought than an actual reality.
“You do? Wouldn’t he mention it in your letters?”
“I don’t know that he would. It took him until I asked yesterday to find out about prom. He’s allusive.”
“In like, a hot way.”
“Yeah, I mean he’s the hottest man I’ve ever se –
Something wrapped around your ankle and in a swift motion pulled you under. As water filled your nose you began to fling your arms wildly, trying to hit whatever it was that had gotten to you. It’s a lake, there isn’t anything more than fish, ducks and microscopic living organisms. Nothing with a grip that could take you down. You kicked your legs, almost making contact with whatever it was as the grip released you, sending you up to the top of the water gasping for air.
“What the fuck?” You yelled, eyes wild as you tried to land on whoever or whatever it was that had gotten you.
You heard the laughter before you saw the face, popping out a few yards away from you, broad shoulders and symmetrical face, his windshield wiper laugh was like no ones you’d heard, besides coming from him. He was in hysterics, laughing heartily as he watched your panic turn into blind rage. EJ laughed too, because of course she had been in on it.
“She hates you,” another voice came from the dock across from yours, and you glared at Namjoon.
“She’s in shock, leave her alone,” Yoongi, decked out in full sun shirt and leggings, said as he sat down and dipped his pale feet into the cool water.
“I fucking hate you, Seokjin Kim.” You yelled before climbing up the ladder on your dock. “None of you fucking talk to me.”
As you stomped back into your house, you could hear Seokjin calling your name.
“It was a joke! I’m sorry!” Seokjin called.
“I told you it was a dick move,” Namjoon said before he jumped into the water, splashing Yoongi.
“I thought Hoseok was coming with you?” EJ asked them.
“He’s changing still,” Yoongi answered.
“He didn’t want to be a part of this,” Namjoon told his sister.
“Of course not, you guys are assholes.”
“You helped!”
“All I did was get her in the water, I thought you were just going to be floating, not try and drown her.”
“Whatever, it was a great prank,” Seokjin said.
“You are going to really have to apologize to her,” Namjoon told his twin.
“I know,” Seokjin regretted the prank almost immediately after he saw your face. He had expected you to be surprised, but he thought maybe you’d be happy he was there, happy he’d come up a day early to hang out with you and his sister. That he took some time in his busy summer, he’s working as an undergrad researcher at Northwestern all summer, to come up to the lake and be with his family. But no, you’re pissed at him, and he knows you, it’s going to last a while if he doesn’t apologize correctly.
Seokjin hops out of the lake, having used his large wingspan and strength to pull himself up and out of the water. He stalks down your dock before turning on the sand and going to the one person’s house who will know what to do: Taehyung.
“Why did you think that was a good idea?” Taehyung asked, sitting in his living room with a can of sugar free root beer in his hand.
“I thought she’d be more excited to see me than she would be mad.”
“Why would she be excited to see you?”
“I don’t know! I haven’t seen her since Christmas. I didn’t come home for spring break, I thought maybe she’d be –
“Excited,”
“Yeah, to see me.”
“And not Namjoon?”
“Who is excited to see Namjoon except his professors?” Jin asked.
“I’d guess you, I mean he’s in Boston and you’re in Chicago for the year, don’t you miss him?”
“That’s not the point of this. How do I apologize?”
“Write her a letter.”
Seokjin wasn’t convinced. “A letter?”
“A letter. And get her favorite chocolates and candies. Be sincere, but not patronizing.”
“I can do those things.”
“Write it in your best handwriting, she cares about penmanship even though hers looks like she’s nine years old.”
“Okay, anything else?”
“Don’t like to her, or make up something about why you did it. Be honest,” Taehyung said.
“Did EJ say something to you?” He asked.
“Uh, no? Should she have?” It was Taehyung’s turn to be confused about the conversation transpiring between them.
"No, no, she just talks a lot for someone who knows so little. Anyway,” Jin said standing. “Thanks.”
“Why do you care so much?” Yoongi asked that evening over dinner, where Mr. & Mrs. Kim were less than impressed with their eldest son’s prank.
“She’s like my second sister, I shouldn’t have done it.”
“Told you,” Namjoon muttered.
“You shouldn’t have, what if she hurt you? Or you hurt her?”
“She was only under for maybe ten seconds,” Jin said. “I had a loose grip on her and let her go quickly.”
“Ten seconds is still enough to do damage to an unsuspecting person,” Mrs. Kim scolded. “Honestly Jin, you know better.”
“I’m working on my apology!” He said defensively.
“We ought to ground you for your foolery but you’re an adult, and that would be embarrassing for both of us.” Mr. Kim said.
“Sorry for being a disappointment.”
“You are not a disappointment,” Mrs. Kim told him. “You just behaved like you’re fifteen, which frankly is an age we are glad to be past.”
“Nothing was as bad as Namjoon at thirteen,” EJ piped in. “Do you remember?”
“The time he kicked the hole in the wall? How could we forget,” Mr. Kim laughed.
“You did what?” Hoseok asked, turning to stare at his friend.
“It was an accident.”
“An accident was EJ putting stickers on her bedroom door. No, you knew what you were doing,” Mrs. Kim said.
“I hate this family,” Namjoon groaned.
“Honestly, same,” Seokjin said, meeting his twin’s gaze.
He didn’t tell Taehyung that he had missed his brother during their time apart for college. He always missed him when they were apart. They’re twins, it’s part of their dna and make up to be completely locked into the other. It was terrible, freshman year, being separated for the first time, and for a long time. Neither came home for Thanksgiving, but thankfully Namjoon went to Chicago to stay with Jin. They both went home for Christmas and at Spring Break the entire family, even EJ who wasn’t on break yet, went to France. But there were still long and lonely hours. Seokjin didn’t take to making friends quite as easily as his brother, and he missed having a guaranteed companion. Not to mention Yoongi was still in state, and Hoseok was in New York and could see Joon more frequently. Phone calls and texting did little to fill the void, and Jin really regretted, at least the first few months, that he’d turned down the option of going to Northeastern with his brother.
“I think we’re great,” EJ said as she finished the last of her grilled asparagus, and smiled at Yoongi who happily grinned back.
“You have to talk to him,” Mama said the next day as you avoided spending time with EJ or listening to Seokjin.
“I do not. He made a dick move and I don’t have to forgive him yet.”
“Doesn’t she have consequences for swearing?” Max asked as he ate his cereal. Finally old enough to work, he’d scored a job at Gunner’s Golf Pros caddying and working the snack shack.
“She’s already grounded,” mom reminded him.
“Yeah, but she still gets to hang out with EJ and Taehyung at work. How is that even a punishment?”
“Because she really wants to spend time with Taehyung, who she only sees for a month out of the year. Imagine you had a friend like that and mom and I said you couldn’t see them? How would you feel?”
“Max doesn’t have friends,” you commented.
“Why are you so mean to me?”
“I love you, that’s why.”
“Okay, love and being mean do not equal each other,” Mama said.
“We know,” Max and you said in unison.
“Please, Seokjin has been texting for weeks asking when we’re having a family bbq and now you won’t speak to him. Maybe he’s trying to say he’s sorry the only way he knows how.”
“By being obnoxious?” You asked.
“By being genuine and authentic.” Mom said.
You shrugged, staring at the last remaining pieces of your cereal, floating helplessly in the oat milk of your bowl. “I don’t know why he’s being either.”
“He’s a sweet boy, well, young man.” Mama said.
“He’s fine.”
“Have you noticed how handsome he’s gotten?” Mom asked.
“Can we please not discuss Seokjin has attractive?” Max requested.
“Yeah, that’s gross,” you agreed.
A knock hit your front door and Max ran off to get it. You could hear him a little, and recognized the deeper voice speaking to him as Seokjin’s. You rolled your eyes because of course that asshole would show up at your door, unannounced and want to speak with you. Wasn’t he supposed to be sleeping in?
“Here,” Max said, handing you an envelope with your name written in pretty hand lettering, most likely done by EJ.
“What?”
“It’s from Jin. He wants you to read it.”
“Why?” You asked him.
“I don’t know, he just said to give it to you, and this,” Max passed you a large bag of candy, which made no sense, how had he gotten into The Confectioners Corner before it was open? Let alone known to buy your favorites?
“He’s doing this on purpose,” you declared.
“What is he doing, honey?” Mama asked.
“He’s trying to get me to think about him all day. Either I read this letter now and think about it all day, or I don’t read it and think about what it could say until my double shift is over and I can come home and read it.”
“Which one is worse?”
“Not knowing,” you answered quickly.
“So go read it and then get on that bike and go to work,” mom said.
You raced to your bedroom and carefuly opened the letter. Inside was a piece of stationary that was clearly EJ’s.
Dear Y/N,
I’m so sorry I scared you yesterday in the water. I wanted to have a bit of fun with you, remind you of the fun we had before I went to college. I think I was feeling insecure about how you’d feel, seeing Namjoon and me after we’d been away for so long. You’re like another sister to me, and I missed you. God that sounds pathetic, but you’re a family member so it’s true. I’m sorry I scared you… I was feeling nostalgic for the times we used to – well I guess the times Joonie and I would tease you or chase you around probably were hell for you… sorry for those too.
Forgive me? Please?
XX,
Jin
You laughed as you read the letter again and again. What a little dork. You took your cellphone out of your pocket and texted Seokjin.
You: you loser
Jin: did you read it?
You: yeah, I did. Thanks for the candy.
Jin: do you forgive me?
You: I’ll think about it while I’m at work
Jin: that works for me
You: for what it’s worth, I missed you too. but if you tell anyone I said that I will deny it and say Max got to my phone and texted you
Jin: glad to know you only admit you care about me under threat
You: Well you only said you missed me because you embarrassed your parents
Jin: how’d you know?
You: You’re sister has been my best friend since birth, idiot
Jin: why are you so mean to me?
You: I am not
Jin: you’d never call Joon an idiot
You: he’s smarter
Jin: I did better on my SATs
You: whatever
Jin: don’t you have a job to get to?
You: Yeah – I’ll see you later
Jin: and you’ll forgive me, too?
You: we’ll see
6 Summers Ago
“Are you sure?” Taehyung asked the following year on July 31st, as he lay next to you on your bed.
“Yeah, are you?”
“I am if you are…. I wanted it to be with you.”
“Yeah? Me too,” you whispered, then kissed him quickly as your shaking hands moved down to unbutton his shorts. You could feel him against your hand, hardening as your body somehow moved with his.
“Do you have –
“Yeah and I got an IUD so we’re like, super safe.”
The idea of losing your virginities to each other had come from well…. Both of you. In letters traded over the school year, you’d discussed how far you’d gone in your hook ups with each other. The wandering hands, the temptation to go farther, the burning want that took over both your bodies whenever you were together. Taehyung wanted you, all of you, and you wanted him too. But you’d promised you wouldn’t do anything, not just with Taehyung, but with any boy until you were 18. A weird pact your moms wanted you to agree to in case you somehow slipped up last summer. You hadn’t, and during the year your want to explore sex with someone you trusted grew and grew and finally, you mentioned sex to Taehyung. He too was growing in curiosity, but had more access to porn and dirty magazines than you did. He was curious, but only if he could be curious with you.
Your theory of him dating people during the school year was squashed, he wasn’t dating anyone, just quietly pining over someone he couldn’t ever really have… and of course you knew that to be you.
“Can I, can I touch you?” You whispered.
Your moms had let you come up a day early to get ready before starting work, with a double shift, tomorrow, August 1st. Taehyung had been up at Lake Augusta for a while, like always, and waited for you outside your cabin when you drove up.
What started as a hug hello soon became a heavy make out on your bed, which led to shirts (and a bra) being tugged off as his hands, consensually, worked to explore you.
“Yeah,” he said, nodding. You watched him carefully as you slid your hand down his exposed torso, unintentionally teasing him as you caught the bearings of his body. How soft his skin was, how toned his stomach felt and yet still remained soft. You’d seen him shirtless before, but this was totally different. Your hand continued down, dipping into the hem of his shorts and finding purchase on his hardening cock, a sensation you had never experienced before. Slowly, like EJ had taught you, you began to stroke him up and down, eyes not leaving his face as he fluttered his shut. His little moans were encouraging, as was the precum dripping from his tip. You wanted him. Your body was telling you how deeply you wanted him, and his was pleading with you for more. You picked up your speed, and Taehyung thought he could see stars.
“Wait,” He said, taking your hand from him and holding it to his chest.
“What? Did I do something wrong?” You asked.
“No, I just… I think I’m going to come if you keep doing that and I’d really like to you know, come inside you,” he muttered the end of his sentence, embarrassed by his own desire.
“Oh! Okay, I don’t know, I think I’m ready?” You asked, assessing how your body was feeling.
“Lay back,” he said. “Can I take these off?”
Taehyung trailed his fingers across the hem of your underwear, waiting for you to give him permission.
“Yeah,” you said and held your breath. He was the first boy to see you…. naked. And exposed.
His hands were delicate as they pulled the cotton down and tossed them into a pile with your sun dress. He parted your legs with his hands and knelt in front of your cunt. Fingers lithe and gentle, he stroked between your lips, feeling the soft warmness of them, and admiring the liquid wetness that coated his fingers.
“Yeah, but like, I can maybe put a finger in, or two before?” He asked. You nodded, having read about fingering and heard about it from EJ. She was so excited for you to finally have sex, as she and Yoongi had started immediately after she turned 18. Taehyung nodded and using his other hand, held your legs open. He gently eased a finger into you, listening as you gasped and adjusted to it. Slowly pumping in and out, your body adjusted quickly to the sensation.
“More,” you muttered, a moan leaving behind it.
“Okay,” he nodded, eyes fascinated by how your body was moving. He inserted his middle finger too.
“Gentle,” you said, feeling more of a stretch with his two fingers than you had before.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No,” the firmness of your voice surprised you both, but your eyes told him the truth, you were really enjoying this.
He continued to pump in and out of you until he felt like he might explode from the sounds you were making and the sight of you before him. He carefully pulled his fingers out and did, what you thought could possibly be the most insane act, he licked them.
“Oh my god, why did you do that? We’re on a towel!” You scolded.
“I was curious. You know a lot of people like to eat –
“Don’t say the p- word.”
“Fine, a lot of people do oral sex before they have penetrative sex. We haven’t done that, so I was curious what you tasted like.”
He was so matter of fact about everything.
“What do I taste like?” You asked, dreading the answer.
“I don’t know how to describe it, but you taste like you.”
“Not like pineapple, or sweet or gross?”
“No, just like you. I don’t know how else to describe it. Do you want to –
“No thank you.”
“Condom?” He asked, and watched as you reached into your bag, which had been lugged up because it contained contraband, and pulled out a fresh pack.
“Moms said I’d probably need it this summer so,” you shrugged nervously and watched as Taehyung opened the box, pulled out a foil and tore it open. He stood to take off his pants and while he stood, fully naked and unashamed, slipped the condom over himself.
“How’d you?”
“Health class, lots of cucumbers and bananas, lots of practice.”
“Oh,” you said, shocked a school was that comprehensive. He crawled back over you, and separated your legs to slate between them.
“Are you sure?” He asked again.
“I am. Yes. Are you?”
“Yeah, fuck yeah I am,” he said, blushing at his use of profanity.
“Go slow,” you instructed, and watched as he lined himself up with your entrance. You figured it was probably good he had fingered you, that way he knew where he was meant to be.
It burned, gently, as he slowly inched himself further and further into you. You winced, eyes closed, face screwed up into a pained expression as he fully sheathed himself in you. He didn’t move, he barely breathed, as Taehyung waited for you to say something, anything.
“Move, slowly please,” You said, and he did so, gently pumping himself in and out of you.
“Oh my god,” Taehyung said into your ear. He finally got it, why every guy viewed sex as this godly experience he was just waiting to have. He imagined they felt that way because it was sex, and from the thirty seconds of it he’d had, he was feeling that way too. But maybe all his friends, or people in magazines, had had their first time with someone they deeply loved and cared about, like he was.
“Oh my god,” you muttered as the pain eased and pleasure took over. He felt, good? That’s what sex is supposed to feel, good?
“Yeah?” He asked, unsure what your oh my god meant.
“Yeah, it feels good.”
“I’m not - I’m not going to last much,” he said as his breath became more panicked and sputtered.
“That’s okay,” you said, having done your homework on the male experience.
“Okay, because I’m going to –
Taehyung didn’t have much time to finish his sentence as he gave one final thrust and came. You laid, with him on top of you, for a moment while he collected himself.
“Shit,” he said, and as he pulled out of you, he took off the condom and tied it before dropping it in your garbage can. “Keep your legs open.”
“Why?” You wondered, staring up at his glorious form.
“I’m going to go down on you. Why should I be the only one that comes?”
“Do you feel like, changed?” Taehyung asked as you sat on the Adirondack chairs, sipping a homemade vanilla milkshake.
“Uh, ask me tomorrow when I’ve had time to process,” you said.
“That’s fair.”
“Are you nervous?” You asked, glancing sideways at him.
“For college?”
“Yeah, for USC, big shot.”
“Completely. Are you?” He asked.
“For Columbia? Yeah, New York is scary and big and so far away. Why am I doing this? I ask myself that every day.” You shared.
“You’re going to be incredible,” Taehyung assured.
“I don’t know about that, but I’ll figure it out.”
“You will, I guess I will too?”
“You have to, we both have to. We’re the oldest, we can’t fuck up.” You remind him.
“That’s true.”
“At least we have one thing checked off our lists.”
“Are there more?” He asked.
“Yeah, I think we’ve got a few more to complete before summer ends.”
“More repeats of tonight though, right?” He smirked.
“Oh definitely, we definitely need more practice.” You blushed as you finished your milkshake. “I’m glad it was with you.”
“You’re the only one,” Taehyung said, like above all else, no matter what happened the next year at college, you were bound by bodily fluid and something like love, to this moment, and to each other.
Next: August IV
#justasparkwritings#justasparkmaster#clubzerooclock#bangtanarmynet#networkbangtan#purplearmynet#kpopccc#Kim taehyung x reader#Kim taehyung x you#august#folklore#folklore saga#taehyung fluff#taehyung smut#taehyung angst#end of summer#lost in the memory
35 notes
·
View notes
Text
Very Delayed Fic Giveaway
In March I did a giveaway and then my life went crazy and I haven’t been able to complete anything this until recently so this one if @cx-shhhh‘s which will be split into chapters because the idea spiraled. @my-mirror-years-ago, yours will be posted no later than 11pm EST (hopefully). Now without further adiu, the first chapter of Stuck Together
Stuck Together:
Chapter 1
The first day of school was always a pain for Enjolras. He was the AP Greek Mythology teacher as well as the US I history teacher. He could never remember names and he hated going over the same things over and over and over. This year, he had three honors classes, two on-grade, and his AP Myth course so hopefully it wouldn’t be too painful. He got in earlier than he wanted and went to the culinary room to make coffee. He met Courfeyrac and Combeferre, the theater arts and a science teacher respectively.
“Morning,” Enjolras mumbled tiredly as he sipped his severally sweetened beverage. Courfeyrac (who had an impressive sunburn) beamed happily at him.
“Good morning, you ray of sunshine,” he teased. “Guess what happened over break?” Enjolras raised an eyebrow at the couple and Combeferre grinned bashfully as he showed him his hand.
“You guys got engaged?!” Enjolras gasped happily and Courfeyrac nodded eagerly.
“I was so scared when I asked him I thought I was going to have a heart attack,” Courfeyrac laughed as he sat next to Enjolras.
“I was always going to say yes!” Combeferre laughed as he sat down too. “Of course you had to ask an hour before we had to be at the airport. Thank god there was a layover.” Enjolras rolled his eyes fondly.
“You guys are idiots,” he teased and Courfeyrac shoved him playfully.
“What about you? What did you do over the summer?” he asked.
“I found a new apartment that’s closer,” he shrugged. “To be honest, that’s probably the most exciting thing that happened.” Courferyac was about to say more but the first bell rang and they all groaned.
“May the odds be ever in your favor,” Courfeyrac sighed and kissed Combeferre’s cheek before getting up and going across the hall to the auditorium. Enjolras sighed and got up, still holding his half full mug.
“I’ll see you later, Ferre,” he smiled a bit and grabbed his bag as he started to his classroom. His classroom was the only history classroom on the first floor. The high school was laid out with the arts rooms, the gym, the auditorium, and the cafeteria on the first floor and the “core classes” (english, math, science, and history) on the second. Enjolras’ classroom was on the first only because his first year at the school was the same year as the biggest hurricane in the town in years and his classroom was completely flooded. He was moved to the only opened one, which just happened to be the old graphic arts room, and it stuck. He has been at the school for four years, his first freshman class was now the senior class. In the four years he was there, he enlisted his students to help decorate. The room was barely a step above a garage. The graphics art room needed the space and had plenty of posters and tee shirts to decorate the walls and the auto shop class that was there before that obviously had plenty to fill the space. Enjolras’ US history class and Greek Mythology class did not. Over the years, he’s hung up various projects his students have made and decorated with random stuff he’s found. Over the summer, he had to hang sheets and plastic over everything rather than taking it down. When he got to his classroom, he found boxes in the doorway.
“Is someone taking over Lamarque’s class?” he asked Cosette, the chorus teacher who was in the room across from him.
“You didn’t hear? It was a whole mess over the summer and he resigned. They had to scramble to find a replacement,” Cosette explained as she put decals on her door. Enjolras winced in sympathy and nodded.
“Well, how bad could they be?” he half joked as he went into his classroom. It took almost a full hour to get his class ready for his first class of the day. Next door, he heard the new teacher very loudly rearranging the room. He tried to just focus on learning the names of his first class when the bell rang and students started flooding in. Enjolras started to copy down the beginning of the year information on the board when out of the blue, blaring AC/DC came from the neighboring room making Enjolras and a number of his students jump. Enjolras gave the terrified freshman a reassuring smile and knocked on the wall, hoping that would get him to turn it down. When that didn’t work, he tried again but more aggressively. He heard some of the students snickering but he was honestly too tired to care.
“One minute. Everyone sign into the google classroom code on the board,” he instructed and went into the hallway and banged on the door.
“It’s open!” A gruff voice called and Enjolras shook his head in annoyance. He opened the door and found the art room completely bare of all the old paints Lamarque had up and his heart twinged a bit at the sight. The new teacher was standing on a chair that was on top of one of the tables. Enjolras huffed and went over to the desktop and xed out the music tab. The other man turned around when the music was shut off and glared at him.
“Do you mind?” he huffed as he climbed down from his tower.
“Do I mind?” Enjolras snapped. “I couldn’t even teach my class over the noise! They’re all freshmen and I have shit I need to get through-”
“Hey, watch the language there, Mrs. Frizzle,” the other teacher teased and Enjolras huffed, crossing his arms.
“Can you at least turn it down until my class is out?” he asked, trying to stay civil.
“Why? I mean what can you honestly learn on the first day? All my classes are just going to the library,” he challenged.
“It’s an important part of learning who the students are and how they learn!” he protested. “And since you obviously don’t have any responsibilities today why do you come and sit, silently, in the back of my class to see how important the first day actually is,” he proposed. The other man thought about it for a minute and shrugged.
“Why not. Lead the way, Apollo,” he agreed. Enjolras glared at him and went back into his room through the adjoining door. The new teacher followed him and took a seat in the back. Enjolras regained his composure and smiled at his class.
“Well, welcome to my class. I’m the one history teacher in the arts wing so there are quite a few unique things about this class but I’ll get into that tomorrow. Today, I’m going to hand out get-to-know-you sheets and I’ll answer any and all questions you have about the school,” he explained as he pulled out the papers and passed them out, even giving one to Grantaire. The sheet had a few regular ice breaker questions and some serious ones.
After a few minutes, the kids started to get more comfortable with Enjolras and asked a few questions about the school that Enjolras was luckily able to answer. Finally the bell rang and all the students got up, gathering their bags.
“Leave your papers on my desk and the only homework tonight is to join the google classroom and make sure you have a three subject notebook for this class,” he told them as they left. After all the other students left, the new art teacher santured up to the desk and dropped his paper on the pile.
“Well I should probably go back to cleaning up my classroom but I’ll see you around Apollo,” he smiled and went back through the classroom door. Enjolras couldn’t help but stare at him before he grabbed the paper and looked over it.
Enjolras couldn’t help but smiled as he read the paper. His next class was starting to come in and Enjolras scribbled a note out as the bell rang. He gave his welcome spiel again and then handed out the papers again.
“And can someone run this next door to Mr. Grantaire?” he asked and instantly, at least five hands shot up. Enjolras chose the first one he saw and handed her the note. He smiled to himself as he started reading over the other papers.
#enjolras#grantaire#barricade day#barricade boys#les misersbles#les mis#les amis#teacher au#les amis de l'abc#combeferre#courfeyrac#cosette
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fathers’ Day, Familiarity and Faith | #38 | June 2020
If my COVID-19 experiences were a Netflix Original Series, I feel someone could title it, "The Groundskeeper."
Synopsis: Returned Peace Corps Volunteer from Mongolia, now back in Nevada, learns a thing or two about hedge trimming and much more about life living.
The inspirational hit series stars award-winning memoirist Daniel Lindbergh Lang, director and editor. “Please support the official release.”
Quirky thoughts keep me sane. More on these later, of course.
The U.S. celebrated Father’s Day 2020 on June 21, so I commemorate it with reflections from being my father’s son.
The adventures follow both my Mothers’ Day reflections (#36) and Easter in America stories (#35). I focus now on continued COVID-19 adventures in yard work, sorting and reminiscing.
Chronologically, we pick up from my stateside Week 11 (May 15-21), when my sisters came home from their unis’ spring semesters. With them as collaborators, I continued sorting our family’s memorabilia. After a few weeks’ interlude 'round Memorial Day, big changes occurred Weeks 14 through 16 (June 5-25) through Fathers’ Day.
I also consider Pentecost and the Spirit. Easter 2020 ended Sunday, May 31, so we’re in a fruitful new time. In fact, I write here results from the smattering of routines I shared before.
Lastly, to clarify, many assume my dad’s Asian. But that’s untrue. He’s Austrian-American. That’s where I get my “Lang” surname. Ethnically, I’m about half Austrian. Culturally, too, Dad’s family influenced me far more than Mom’s when I grew up. My mom was ethnically full Chinese, hence that half.
Now back to Dad!
Father’s Perspective on My Boyhood
During my 2020 time home since Peace Corps’ evacuation, Dad often prods me to take on projects he sees around the yard. So, I do yard work. I don’t like desert heat, so I usually work the daily tasks an hour or two at dawn, sometimes dusk. Picture three months this way.
But Dad would tend to demand a certain perfection on many projects, expecting me out there working when there’s work to do. I’d rather let nature do as it pleases. Peace Corps experiences taught me decorated yards generally feel overrated. When I’m older, I feel I’d much rather have my family frequent parks to get our yard fix. Nonetheless, yard work lets me chat with God, who reminds me empathize.
It is difficult to say, "I serve the Father," if I do not serve my father.
With this in mind, I consider the patient progress of waiting while working often.
Dad grew up in rural America’s Midwest from the mid-20th century. Dad’s parents and community were largely Austrian-American Catholics. Dad’s grandfather immigrated with Dad’s great-grandfather because land in Austria was scarce, late-19th century, yet plentiful in Kansas. My dad grew up on a farm as a third-generation Austrian-American. He funded his higher ed. through U.S. military service and numerous side jobs, including those in teaching and sales.
Through Dad, I’m a fourth-generation Austrian-American—though, only second-generation Chinese-American, through Mom. I wasn’t quite on a farm, having grown up between Midwestern suburbs and an urban West. Still, Dad regularly tasked siblings and I with yard work.
An Energetic Kid, Ages 4-7
Now this gets interesting!
This mid-May 2020, my younger sister and I unearthed Christmas letters our parents (mostly Dad) had written to Dad’s siblings—my uncles and aunts—since before 2000. Turns out, our mom kept hard copies in the bins beside her desk. From these, Sister and I read pretty enjoyable pieces about our child selves.
Here I share Dad’s tales from grade school me in Indiana (used with permission):
2001: "Daniel is 4 years old now and is looking forward to kindergarten. He likes outdoor activities and he is quite strong for his age. He can do a lot of sit ups and push ups already. He likes to walk with [his mom] at the airport, which is nearby."
2002: "Daniel is five years old. He is in kindergarten. He is [...] very competitive. He is in the same school as [his older brother] and is rapidly learning to read now. He is good at math, and he studies very hard."
2003: "Daniel is six years old. He is very competitive and naughty. He always keeps track of the books he reads and comes home to tell us how many books he has finished. His goal is to reach 100 books this year. He is over 90 already. Well, he likes to pester [his brother a lot]. He thinks that is fun. [...]"
2004: "Daniel is seven. He is goal oriented and a 'do'er. He is good at making all kinds of crafts. He is our family's talented teacher. He taught [his younger sister] how to read before she went to kindergarten. He also gives homework assignments to the others, except [his older brother]. He always pesters [his brother] as usual."
God graced me with energy as a kid.
I noticed three themes. For one, I seemed to follow Dad’s lead in filling my time productively. He served in the U.S. Army National Guard and emphasized self-discipline. As a civilian family practitioner, too, he advocated for daily exercises, such as sit-ups, push-ups and walking. I seemed to follow suit.
On the other hand, I was a kiddo with an older brother, and I didn’t mind expending plenty spare energy to bother him. Thankfully I stopped pestering when I grew up with enough self-awareness to know good people don’t intentionally troll. Uni helped.
Curiously, I noticed the letters seemed to note many of my interests resembling Mom’s. Arts, reading and studying seemed more like Mom’s interests than Dad’s, yet I hadn’t realized my similarities to Mom back then. Of course, Dad values education, too.
Studious Beyond Belief, Ages 13-19
As I went through elementary school, Dad’s military service included deployments overseas to Afghanistan (2005) and Iraq (2007). In 2008, our family moved from southern Indiana to North Las Vegas, Nev., where I started middle school. Since my younger sister and I hadn’t found letters from Dad’s years deployed with the others letter, we figured Mom wrote them. By 2009’s end, Dad retired as a lieutenant colonel. But he continued work elsewhere, including in a dozen nations to indigenous peoples of the Americas.
Here were Christmas letters from my adolescence on. Coincidentally, I noticed the first couple we found both came from my last years at respective schools.
2010: “Danny, 13, is finishing at [...] a magnet [middle] school associated with math, science and technology. He [earned last year] a 4.0 [grade-point] average. He received a letter this past week from a magnet high school stating that he was the type of student they were looking for. [I, Dad, think Danny] is also in the National Junior Honor Society [service group]. [...] Danny continues to have to be at the school bus stop at 5:50 in the morning.”
2014: “Danny is the ultimate study robot, with his inhuman ability to study for hours on end in place of sleep, or other usual activities for high schoolers. He attended NV Boys State this past June, and he has risen to the rank of Division News Editor within [Kiwanis] Key Club--a HS service group. Danny and [his younger sister] also attended Key Club activities in CA in Nov. [...] As this is his senior year [...], he should be starting to apply for colleges now, but [...] he has not applied to Yale, which is causing his mother to feel that she is a ‘failure’ if none of her kids get accepted at this prestigious school--it’s used by Chinese mothers as a guilt trip for their kids! [...] He also received an AP with Honors award [from his magnet high school]. He presently is in the ‘top 10’ students in his class ranking. But if he doesn’t get his applications in, then there is always UNLV [Las Vegas]!”
2016: “Daniel is now a sophomore at UNR (Reno) in the Honors Program, and is an honors ambassador. He says he has 1 major in journalism with 3 minors at the present time, and he works at the library when time permits. He also completed an internship in publishing during the summer session, when he stayed in Reno and frugally survived during the summer by ‘couch surfing’ at several different locations. Several of us attended his confirmation at Easter in Reno. He also [...] presented at a few [conferences]. Additionally, he is involved in [the Kiwanis] Circle K service group on campus, as well as the Knights of Columbus, and he sings in the choir at the local Newman Center. Based on his Facebook postings, he seems to be enjoying college immensely. [...]”
I definitely loved service groups—and still do, if Peace Corps counts!
Seeing these letters in 2020, I feel amused how Dad wrote of my later academic interests with distance. Dad’s 2002 line about 5-year-old me, “[Daniel] studies very hard,” escalated exponentially, noticeable by his 2014 line about 17-year-old me, “Danny is the ultimate study robot, with his inhuman ability to study for hours on end in place of sleep.” I figure my peers were similar, though…
I feel amused, too, how Dad included Mom’s wanting me to pursue STEM careers. Chinese often expect this of their kids. In some sense, I’m glad Dad let me escape the Asian tendency and Mom’s ideal to have me pursue a Bachelor of Science. Back then, I contended a bachelor’s from the professional School of Journalism would still make me hireable.
Sure enough, Peace Corps hired!
Besides, I felt vindicated later when I learned my minors in English literature, Chinese studies and communication studies resembled my late mother’s fields of English literature and international relations... She clearly benefited from Liberal Arts. More on these in previous reflections, though. :)
Back From Mongolia
Snap back to March 2020, when I just returned to America after our COVID-19 evacuation from Mongolia.
I was really into “Frozen II,” the cathartic film easing me back into the States. My first week back felt very different from those after. Because “Some Things Never Change,” I discerned to do “The Next Right Thing.” Waking to various “Frozen II” numbers of looping in my brain, days began with such thoughts.
My first days, I often compared experiences to Mom’s when she raised my siblings and me. Despite being at home, I was alone. Dad worked away, plus siblings had school and work. (This preceded American schools canceling or moving online.) So, I felt confused what to do.
I discerned I could tidy the house, serve where others couldn’t. Whether dishes to wash or rooms to clean, I addressed what I saw. I imagined Mom felt this way when my siblings and I attended school and Dad worked.
I also considered my living father matters as much as my late mother. So, honoring Dad honors her, too.
Dad always had yard projects he wanted me doing. I had to weed so much when I first returned.
I felt insights, at least. I considered, weeds are eternal. Weeds will always grow on spiritual life. Weeds attempt to choke our crops’ life. We must uproot our weeds and prune dead areas to fortify new and better parts of being. The physical and spiritual are one. … Yet, weeds still annoy me.
Noticeably, my labors seemed to confuse many in my family. They seemed mostly to recall the 2015 me who’d choose studying over chores any day. But I guess most hadn’t factored I’ve experienced plenty in my years away from home, especially during my months living alone cooking for myself in Mongolia. House tasks are necessary parts of life.
Besides, I’d already been doing these tasks others seemed disinterested in, even back at Christmas 2019, when I sorted Mom’s books, and later during post-evacuation Week 9 (May 1-7), packing up Mom’s desk after three years gathering dust. I felt frustrated others seemed slow to accept I’ve changed since Peace Corps. I pray for grace.
The New Journey
June 6, 2020—just days after Pentecost and coincidentally one month to my 23rd birthday—marked one huge occasion.
Dad remarried!
I felt excited.
I also noticed a curious parallel in threes. For, on my family history adventures, I discovered something about Dad’s parents. In 1987, his mother's spouse passed away; on the third year, she married again, in 1990. 30 years later, my dad’s spouse passed away in 2017; on the third year, he married again, in 2020. Coincidences comfort me at times.
That day, I’d also finished revisions to submit my thesis to a different journal for publication. I’d tried before with one in June 2019 and February 2020, but unfortunately my work hadn’t fit within their scope. Still, the editor believed that I could publish it in the right place!
College Town Return
That Week 14 (June 5-11), Dad also purchased a house in Reno, Nev., where my kind stepmom may move, too. Dad requested aid moving things in Reno. My younger sister and youngest brother both opted out, so I went instead. I prefer Reno’s weather, anyway.
In Reno again, I felt parallels to past years.
Helping my youngest sister and her friend move from a condo and house to the new place, I recalled the many who helped me move between Reno homes during my undergrad. Honestly, I felt weird to think of my dad relocating to Reno, especially since I hadn’t known the area he chose existed during my years studying in town.
Mongolia returned to mind, too, while I lugged belongings in and out of the condo, up and down stairs. Hard to believe that that was three months ago when Peace Corps evacuated us. Exactly three months before, March 9, 2020, was my first Monday in Nevada again.
Writing of Mongolia, I also recalled every bellhop who's hauled my 23 kg (50 lbs.) luggage up stairs in Asia. God bless them.
On the bright side, with helping the sister and friend move, Dad said I got stronger. That felt good. When he asked how many push-ups I could do, I said 50—my new personal record met just days before. When I started working out the month and a half prior, I could only do half that.
Thanks to the lifting and yard work tasking me in Reno, I paused my fitness routines. I realized, I’ve enough strength and endurance for what I’d want to do. So now, having met the goals, I still work out, just less concerned about gains.
Tests of Faith
Back to that ‘groundskeeping.’
With Reno versus Vegas, I prefer hedges to palm trees. Hedges are more fun and less merciless. They leave my body less bloody than palm trees, too. Reno’s weather also keeps cooler.
As you’d expect, yard work leaves plenty time to reflect, chat with God. In earlier days these chats opened with lamentations about the heat and constant tasks. But God graces peace.
Ultimately, Dad’s tasks need someone to do them. He’s busy working full-time out-of-town, and siblings still have activities they must or would rather do. So I volunteer.
On the other side, Dad at times says he’ll compensate me once the bills are paid. There always seem bills to me, though. Since it’s been three months now, I try to think of this like the Kingdom. Whether or not I see rewards, I try to persevere. I must trust the Father to provide in time, no matter the wait. It’s a spiritual exercise.
Pa says he’s glad I’m financially stable, too—My scholarships, grants and work study graduated me debt-free. Those seem good, I guess.
So, spiritually exercising while laboring, I consider parables of workers in the field and masters. Christ spoke of such. Parables about fields and wages seem more nuanced after feeling comparable questions.
I think, too, to re-education labor camps sometimes. During China’s Cultural Revolution, my mom’s parents—both teachers—were sent to those. So, my ‘toiling’ in Dad’s backyards are surely nothing compared to what my grandparents involuntarily endured. I can bear my ‘shackles.’
These bring me to privilege.
At the day’s end, I have places to stay, food to eat and stable internet. Many Americans and people worldwide face greater turmoil than these, perhaps including you, my reader. So, I try acknowledging my ‘hardships’ hardly compare. I try to focus prayers for the needier. Faith helps me through.
On a happy note, I just reached the Diamond League on Duolingo! So, life could definitely be worse...
The Climb
One day during Week 15 (June 12-18), after Dad came home at dusk from work, he asked me to get out the ladder to climb the backyard tree. I thought that was wistful thinking!
Well, I had the time and realized he wanted me to climb after all. The tree had a fallen limb he wanted me to saw off, since I weigh less than him. I insisted I’d only climb with him around.
Well, he came around.
I ascended and sawed four limbs! Before the climb, we thought I only had to address a single one. But as I climbed for it, I found more. Thankfully, these were thin limbs. Dad gave some advice from below, handed me our hand saw then left me while he took care of other tasks around the yard. I climbed higher, wedged my feet in semi-stable positions and got to work.
Atop, the wind blew, so the tree rocked. I clung high in a swaying tree. Good Lord.
But I felt amazed, handling my saw even with my off-hand. I’d cling with one arm and saw with the other. When branches got stuck, I had to grab them, push and jerk them away from other sections to send them down. Dad had me call out, “Timber!” With the final branch out, I let the saw fall.
Success felt like redemption from that random tree I climbed the first culture-shocked day I returned to Vegas from Mongolia. This time I’d such control. My safety depended on it! Plus, I only grazed the back of my hand, as opposed to gashing my palm like the last time I left a tree. Less bleeding is better.
By the end, my arms and legs trembled, not from worry but from muscle fatigue. Still, I felt empowered. Throughout my childhood, I could never climb a tree. Now I passed the physical I hadn’t expected a month and a half prior.
All told, my climb took just half an hour.
Staying the Course
In a week and a half, I turn 23! So I’ll be one (1) 23-year-old, hehe. Look forward to new reflections on how I’ve grown and changed.
As an extension of my paternal family history projects, I started writing memorable quotes from Dad. My siblings and I wound up adapting these and more into our Fathers’ Day 2020 gift! Dad enjoyed our “Book of the Father” we printed.
Meanwhile, America begins to slightly reopen amid COVID-19 conditions, and the post-solstice summer’s begun. So, I encourage us to, whenever possible, still #StayHome more than usual, wear our face masks, maintain physical distance and of course wash our hands. We’ll get through this.
And I hear some are struggling with loneliness, too—If you need someone to talk to, you can always count on me. It’s among the most challenging feelings, given we humans are social beings staying physically apart. Writing, phoning and video calls help me, at least. Feel free to reach out. I keep you and loved ones in my prayers.
Best wishes, and till we chat again.
You can read more from me here at DanielLang.me :)
#Peace Corps#Mongolia#memoir#story#Catholic#God#memoryLang#USA#moving#Las Vegas#Pentecost#faith#Reno#Coronavirus#COVID-19#hope#summer#StayHome#WithMe#Fathers Day
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
26 trying to become an engineer. (2nd attempt)
Hello everyone :-)
Today I’ve been feeling pretty down and thought, well, I may as well do something that might get my mind off of my mood. I thought, “hey maybe I’ll share my story on tumblr.” So, here I am spiraling.
This is not my main blog but I did notice that over the years it was hard to find blogs that were active. Somehow, I came across the ‘studyblr’ community and couldn’t believe how many people were currently using this platform in that way. I’m starting school in the fall so I thought it would be a cool idea to also make one, and maybe it would keep me motivated! We will see. I have a good feeling because there are already sooo many amazing resources and advice tips. It’s very reassuring.
I guess I should start my story off with a few details about who I am and the type of life I had before coming to this point. My name is Ari and I love learning but I never had the vision or drive to look forward into the future very much. I did not concern myself with the responsibilities of adulthood when I was in high school. During that time, I wasn’t really focused on anything in particular. I didn’t sign up for the AP Classes, I didn’t see myself going to college, and the classes I wanted to take, I never was able to get in (my school already had overcapacity classes and it was the oldest high school in my city picture the not having enough books, packed classes, and old and worn learning materials). I really wanted to get into horticulture and signed up for it 3 years straight to no avail. Even though I lacked the competitive spirit and drive, I still had high enough standards for myself to try my best in school even if I didn’t know exactly why I was doing it. I did well and my class rank, I found out was #3. I only found out because the teacher I worked for would tell me “hey you’re really close to having to give a speech” to that I was like HUH? I also was way too shy to even think about that so I just kind of brushed it off. But to this day, I wonder what I could have accomplished if I had the same goals my peers had.
My counselor nominated me for a scholarship to which I was surprised but I applied to the school (the only school I applied to) and wrote my essay. I did this because I was honored someone actually thought of me. The school could only put up one person per scholarship per university. I’m sure she put me up because of my math scores if I’m being honest.
By that time I had decided to go into the military, because some guy from the Navy came and talked to our class. I thought, I’m sure I could do that? I was basically doing the things I needed to do my senior year so that after I graduated I could have a job. But unexpectedly, the teacher that I worked for pulled me aside one day and asked me what my plans for the future were. I told him I’m most likely joining the military and that I applied to a university but there’s no way I could pay for it. I already had received a letter that I was denied the scholarship. He sincerely looked at me and told me that I could do anything with my life and that going into the military is great but that I could join that whenever. He told me “not everyone gets to go to college.” I shrugged because I didn’t feel like I was in control of any of that. But then he did something while I was in his computer lab and it was near the end of the school year. He had called up the university I applied to and asked them about my application…. He did that for me. And after getting off the phone with them he told me the lady said “she’ll be very happy.” Although not disclosing any details. For some reason the small gesture moved me and I’m pretty sure that was the moment that I started believing that I could actually accomplish things. I started being able to think about the things I wanted out of life. I could make the decisions of what I want to be, not some recruiter.
It wasn’t until I got my acceptance letter stating that I had received a full ride scholarship that it all became real. I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t think I would ever go to college but now I have a way?
Fast forward to my freshman year of college. I was 17. It was in a new city, I was on my own for the first time in my life, I had met a lot of new people, and I was a first year engineering student hoping to graduate in electrical engineering and I was proud of it. I had felt like I had already accomplished so much just off the fact I was accepted into that program. However, reality started to sink in quick. School was HARD, the classes were HUGE 200 students in most of my classes. I procrastinated, stayed up too late, was not understanding my homework, and failing my tests. I felt like a failure and I failed Chemistry I that year. The next semester, I hoped things would be better but in fact it was much worse. I was horrible and completely lost in my computer engineering course and couldn’t create a working program for the life of me, I couldn’t even create a FLOWCHART. Because of the class size I was deathly afraid to raise my hand and just ask a question. I just kept my mouth shut hoping for the best, for a miracle really. I struggled in Calc 2 and especially in Physics I. I didn’t fail any of the classes but with the grades I received it felt no different. I received D-’s for two of my classes and I felt hopeless. I felt dumb. I thought I need to figure something out, because my scholarship covers 4 years for me. I can’t afford to retake a class I just can’t.
And during that summer I transferred out. I told my mom about my experience and she didn’t have much sympathy for me. Just heard things like “well if it was me, I would have made an A”. I tried explaining to her how hard and difficult it was but I didn’t receive any emotional support that day. In my eyes I thought I tried my best. Honestly, that interaction just furthered my belief into thinking yeahhh it is my fault. I just can’t do it.
I was in this space where I didn’t know what I wanted to do anymore and it scared me. I talked with an advisor and she helped me make a schedule to explore more majors. I explored art, math, and environmental tech. I ended up completely dropping Calc 3 because I was making like 20% on my first test *sigh*. But I did well enough in my gen eds. I truly thought school wasn’t for me. And keep in mind I also was working the entire time through college and it would take me an hour to walk there and an hour to walk back to my dorm. I really needed money T_T. My priorities were all mixed up back then. I also was dating someone who was very very bad for me. He was a cheater, never wanted to see me, and I would miss classes just because we were arguing. I ended up losing a lot of friends because of my terrible relationship as I was spending all my time on him and not on other aspects of my life. I broke up with him my junior year of college.
After that I found myself really focusing hard on my grades, wanting A’s, wanting to do well. I told myself the difference between an A and a B is just effort. My senior year I was working as well as taking 21 credit hours a semester just to graduate. I actually had to submit paperwork to be allowed to take that many hours per semester. I had little time to myself really and I would sleep on the benches outside in between classes. I was so tired my entire senior year but I know for the first time I was doing my absolute best to graduate. I needed to graduate AND do well. I ended up graduating in environmental tech which is under the college of forestry at my university. So it was very different than what I started off in. I was proud for a little until I moved back home.
When I got back home I couldn’t find a job in my field. I would get interviews and I would get ‘almost’ hired but I would be rejected last minute. It’s either a hiring freeze, simple rejection, or the ‘you need a car’ to work here. But I didn’t have a car, I didn’t have job to get the car and so what I did was say Fuck IT. I got a job as a cashier making $7.25 an hour at a donut shop. I could hardly save money because my family would always ask me for some. I ended up talking to a recruiter and I was about to join the military for real as I’m from a military town and jobs that weren’t the hospital or military were virtually nonexistent. That’s what I planned to do and I remember writing on my calendar in my room to “save $400” before I left. And that was a goal looking back now, made me realize how much I was struggling in that environment.
I left. And I joined the military. I knew that I could get a free education and housing so that’s why I did it. It wasn’t a very good reason but I’m so glad that’s what I did. I grew up so much while I was there. I earned an electronics degree while I was there. In fact we went over the same exact things I learned in computer engineering, but this time I could understand and it came easy to me. Learned a new skill. Learned social skills. Learned how to stand up for people. Learned how to manage others and really really show them that I cared. I got my first car, got my first apartment, and I learned what it meant to live comfortably and securely, even if work itself was more stressful than anything I’ve ever known. I accomplished a lot in the four years I spent there, I met so many people that are now all over the world, I have a network, and I even met my current boyfriend.
I am now 26. Those four years I spent in the military allowed me to think about my future and what I wanted to do. I am still trying to be an engineer. I think I gave up too easily when I was 17 and I was not in the right mindset. I didn’t think I was as smart as everyone else around me. I didn’t think I deserved to be there. But I was wrong. I did deserve to be there. Now that I’m older I understand I was going through a lot of things and had very little support and I didn’t believe in myself enough. I believe we can do anything we set our minds to, because it’s about effort. This is where my new journey begins.
I’m 26 years old and I don’t think it’s too late. I’m going to be starting my nano-engineering courses in the fall and retaking chem and physics. And I will do well no matter what it takes. I’ve been talking to someone at the university here and they say that I have a good chance at getting into their Materials Science and Engineering M.S. program. Me, someone without an engineering B.S. This is where I’d like to update my story. And hopefully someone out there can relate or share their journey as well. It’s been hard understanding that I am deserving to be here and to ask questions and actually succeed. I’m not giving up this time. No way. The things you love and are passionate about will always come back to you.
0 notes
Text
Beneath the Stars Chapter 2
Chapter I
AO3 Linkage
Summary: The start of Feyre's senior year brings with it a lot of unexpected stress as she prepares for the reality of college applications and finds out a startling revelation from her dad.
Chapter 2
The last bell of the school day chirped sharply in my ear. It was a little unsettling to have to skip my first session of AP Studio Art for a mandated senior assembly, but I kept reminding myself I’d get it back on Friday and that wasn’t so long to wait.
With a graduating senior class just over a grand, the school administration couldn’t fit us all into one space to discuss our impending college admissions. Hell, I didn’t know how they were even going to fit us all into the football stadium for graduation. Rehearsals alone were a nightmare I wasn’t looking forward to.
Thank goodness June was still several months away.
So to rectify the situation and still bore us to tears with endless chatter and a twenty-five page packet I was not prepared for, our principal assigned each senior a period of class over the first week of school to skip so that smaller groups could convene and go over the college application process.
It was exactly as boring as it sounded.
And also terrifying.
“They really expect us to do all of this?”
I whispered to Tamlin as my fingers flicked through the pages of our University Admittance: A Prythian High School Guide. On the podium, senior class counselors took turns shouting into the mic going over the pages in excruciating detail.
“Aw, come on, Fey - it’s not so bad.”
I glanced over the four pages weighing the pros and cons of the SAT versus the ACT alone and rolled my eyes. Tamlin had already taken both and received the equivalent of an O Level Owl in each.
“I’ll help you study - if you’re nervous about it,” Tamlin said, noting how I hadn’t left the state testing page yet as our counselor moved on to essay writing. Apparently, we’d need to meet with our English teachers for at least two sessions to go over our essays.
“I’m not nervous,” I said. “This just seems like a chore.”
“It’s only a chore because you spend more time fiddling with art brushes than you do actual homework, Feyre.”
I turned to my left and shot Lucien an irritated stare. “I’m not completely daft, I’ll have you know!” Though I was still whispering, my voice definitely carried the undertone of a shout. “I may not have as high a reading level as you do, but I’m in Calculus.”
Lucien snorted.
“Bravo, Feyre. Calc - A true accomplishment.”
“Whatever, Lukey. This just seems like a lot of work, but I’ll be sure to congratulate you when you get accepted into every Ivy League you apply for.”
“You better.”
Lucien and I exchanged angry smirks and Tamlin hissed, “I’m so proud of you two. It only took you a year to still not get along with each other.”
“You can blame Tam, for that,” Lucien said and I was surprised to hear a little genuine fire behind it. “He has a habit of creating dysfunctional relationships wherever he goes.”
On my right, Tamlin finally looked up from his packet and glared at Lucien.
“Am I missing something…?”
“Application fees!”
My head shot up. On the Powerpoint presentation up on the auditorium screen in front of us, the very same two words our counselor had just said loomed large in big, bold red letters - like they knew this was going to be the worst part and had sent a pre-emptive red flag to warn us.
My hands sped through the packet to find the corresponding page. Cringing in on itself, my body sunk lower into my seat.
The average application fee was ballparked at $65-70 per school and that was just to apply! There was no guarantee you’d even get into the school and assuming you did, you couldn’t attend more than one school. No matter how you looked at it, there was a lot of money adding up in this packet preparing to be wasted.
And rates went up for applications to out of state schools. It was like one massive joke: apply elsewhere and go bankrupt, or stay local and rot in the hellhole you’ve always hated.
Not that California was always that bad. I actually quite enjoyed the wicked heat the southern landscape brought in. And nothing could quite beat having Disneyland and the beaches within easy driving distance no matter how far inland or north you might live.
But my parents - dad, I mentally corrected, since mom hadn’t called once since walking out on us three months ago - could hardly afford groceries. Sixty, seventy, eighty bucks a pop suddenly felt like a choice between my future and hamburger helper for a week.
I thought of other states - upstate New York, Pennsylvania, North Carolina - all places with reputable universities, but still far enough away that I could maybe feel more relaxed. My reveries of open skies and fields so far outside the major cities you could actually see the stars was interrupted by Lucien’s quiet notice of my head sinking into my lap as I shrank into the seat.
“You okay, Feyre?”
My eyes flew open. I hadn’t even realized I’d closed them. “Yep, dandy as a lion.”
“That makes no sense.”
“It’s like dandelions, Lukey. Get it? Because they’re dandy.”
“And you two are five-year-olds,” Tamlin said. “Now shut the hell up, I’m trying to concentrate.”
I glanced down at Tamlin’s lap, but instead of our college guide, he was rifling through interview notes. I grimaced.
Newspaper.
Tamlin’s obsession.
“Not this already?” I whined. “It’s barely even the first day of school, Tamlin. You promised not to get so obsessed this year.” The look I gave him when he looked up to argue said enough.
“I’m not obsessing,” and he added air quotes around the word. “Ianthe got senior editor this year, but Mr. Hybern is letting her pick her co-editors. There are only two spots and five of us are fighting for them. If I want to be able to add Senior Co-Editor of the Prythian High Monthly to my college apps, I have to be vigilant.”
I didn’t reply and it forced Tamlin to stop reading his notes. He knew how worked up I got over this. We’d fought about it on and off all summer after his obsessive habits with Newspaper staff all junior year.
“Look,” he said, taking my hand. “This is important to me. Don’t you want me to do well? The better my college applications look, the more places I can get in and the more options we’ll have together to find universities close together.”
“Close together? Why not the same university?”
“The odds we’ll get into the same exact schools are slim. You said it yourself, you’re only really looking at art schools.”
I couldn’t fault him there. I was only really looking at art schools.
“Cheer up, Feyre,” Lucien said, stuffing his packet into his backpack and standing up at the precise moment the bell rang to let us out. “If Tamlin’s busy with Ianthe, that just means you get to spend more time with my lovely self.”
“Oh goody,” I said mustering up as much sarcasm as I could find. “You can take me horseback riding through the Hollywood Hills on the weekend. Or - ooh, I know! We can hunt Dementors in the Forbidden Forest. Won’t that be fun!”
“My ideal Friday night.”
“Let’s go home,” Tamlin concluded, but home was really the last place I wanted to be.
I was more than surprised when I pulled into the driveway and found my sister Elain’s car parked. I spotted a bright yellow sunflower sitting next to the steering wheel of her bright blue VW Bug and shook my head.
Because of course Elain’s car would have flowers.
My driveway was nowhere near as long as Lucien’s, but it was still a good trek from the car to the front door and as I stepped inside the over-large mansion I’d grown up in, I was met with yet another surprise.
“Feyre!” my sister said with her usual pep amid a mountain of boxes. “Thank goodness you’re home. I’m so lost with what to do with all these boxes.”
She stood up and scratched her scalp between the delicate gold bands of the headband she’d wrapped around her blonde locks.
It was odd seeing her home. When mom left, it hadn’t taken long for Nesta and Elain to take off for school. Summer sessions weren’t unusual for them especially now that they TA-ed for their professors to earn extra cash towards their PhDs, but the university they attended in LA was close enough that they generally tried to stay home over summer and put up with the commute.
Just not this summer apparently.
I watched her looking around at all the boxes, huffing a big sigh and couldn’t help but be amused by her cluelessness. For being a scientific smartie, Elain could sure be thick about other things. “Well for starters, you might want to go change into some jeans or something. I’m not sure a maxi dress is optimal for this kind of challenge.”
I set my backpack down on a nearby chair and went over to pick up one of her boxes. “What is all of this anyway? You and Nesta finally get sick of University housing and decide to move in together officially?”
Elain gave me a blank doe-eyed stare.
“You know, I’m sure dad is cool with you two keeping your stuff here even if you don’t technically live here all the time anymore. You could probably move to Tennessee and he’d still keep your rooms exactly as they are.”
A nervous chuckle threatened in my throat and promptly died when Elain said tentatively, “Feyre… didn’t dad talk to you?”
I set the box down. “Talk to me about what?”
“Um, he’s in the study. And on second thought, I think I’ve got this,” and she pointed at all the boxes in a gesture that hinged just a little bit on frenzied, “covered.” Then she bit her lip - the telltale sign of an Elain fib. Classic.
“Elain?”
“Just go talk to dad, alright?” Her chest decompressed. “Don’t make me be the one to tell you.”
Dad was, in fact, in the study and surprise surprise, there were more boxes stacked about. I wondered how long they’d been there and I simply hadn’t noticed from lack of venturing into this part of the house.
Dad was sitting as his desk when I silently breezed up to lean on the door frame. His head was resting in his hand, his arm propped up on the chair.
Gently, I rapped my knuckles along the wall. He blinked up.
“Care to tell me what this is all about?”
“Oh hell,” dad said with a groan, shuffling to get up out of his seat.
“No - sit, sit,” I encouraged, waving him off. “You’ll hurt your knee again if you fuss too much and besides, I get it.”
“You do?”
I moved to sit on the edge of his desk, my legs kicking back and forth until my heels hit the wooden sides. “When were you going to tell me you lost the house?”
“Oh Feyre,” he said and it was as if I could feel all the air rush out of him like it was my body caving in. A part of me had felt not entirely different in that auditorium at school.
“Do Nesta and Elain know?”
“Yes, but only that we’re moving. They think we’re just downsizing.”
“More important question - does mom know?”
His lips tightened into a thin line, my answer. I nodded.
“You’ll have to tell her sometime. She can’t stay away forever whether she wants to or not. You two are still legally married and no one has filed for any kind of divorce or separation - that I’m aware of,” I added when he shot me a look.
“No one’s filed,” he said. “Don’t give me that worry wart look of yours. I’m tired of seeing it.”
“That’s because I’m the only one who ever gives you the worry wart look. Nesta and Elain, on the other hand-”
“Have different ways of coping than you do. Why do you think I told them so far in advance and not you?”
Genuinely curious and not sure of what he would say, I asked, “Why?”
“Because I knew you could take it. Look at you.” He shrugged at me sitting nonchalantly on his desk and I could see his reasoning. We were losing the house and I hadn’t so much as flinched. Meanwhile, Elain sat in the entryway twiddling her thumbs over cardboard boxes and packing peanuts.
I didn’t want to know where Nesta was.
Did that make me a strong person? Or a really callous one?
“So when are we moving? No wait - better question, part two: where are we moving?”
“Not far. It’s only a twenty minute drive, but the neighborhood is decidedly less… affluent than our current community.”
I snorted. As if that mattered. “Big deal. I’ll get a job. We’ll make it work. I’m sure between you, me, and Mary-Kate and Ashley out there, we can come up with enough to get by.”
“Feyre…” Mercifully, he said my name as a chuckle, but I could see the truth lingering in his eyes. Elain and Nesta were dedicated to themselves, which meant their money was too. But who was I to tell my dad who had a tendency to drink when the cards went down in the wrong direction otherwise.
I’d never had a job before - not a real one. Occasionally, I would babysit for neighbors and with the kind of homes I lived next to, those gigs paid big for a teenager looking to see every new movie known to man over summer. Beyond that, however, nothing.
But while Lucien might have been right about my English grades, I was tough and a quick learner. And I would be 18 in December - no longer so fresh to barely be considered for a job. Surely, I could find something.
“Thank you, Feyre,” dad said, taking my hand and giving it a gratifying squeeze. There was just still that tiny lingering sense of something else that made me pause.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
I shook my head. “You have the same look you always get the morning after you and mom have a fight and you drink too much. I know your secrets, old man. Spill.”
“The move is this weekend.”
“WHAT.”
Cue the onslaught of outraged emojis on my phone.
I jumped off the desk and began pacing. College applications? A new job? Moving - this weekend. And there was still the tiny fact that my mother had left us without a word and never looked back to contend with.
Mindlessly, I scratched the skin along the crook of my arm until the itch went away.
“You really kept this from me a lot longer than I thought.”
“But you handled it like a champ.”
“I better get packing,” I said and found myself out the door before dad could really say anything more. Elain was no longer in the entryway when I stepped outside and I managed to avoid her on my way to my room. I noticed a stack of boxes and packing tape had been conveniently left in one corner of my relatively plain living space.
I pulled out my phone and sent a text to Tamlin.
Are you busy right now?
A few minutes went by before the subtle ping! alerted me to his reply.
Sort of, why?
As the fates would have it they’ve chosen this weekend for my family to make an impromptu move.
You’re shitting me, right? You’re actually moving?
Knowing Tamlin’s house was just as large and important as Lucien’s and that he counted appearances as having some kind of value to every Dean of Admissions in America, I sent the next text with a heavy heart.
Yeah dad sort of lost the house
Damn.
Yeah that’s what I thought but we’ll make it work. Could you help us with it though? I know its only a few days away but with Nesta around and this huge house to box up I know dad and I would appresiate the extra help.
Yeah, totally! Anything for you, Fey.
Thanks :)
Love you.
Love you too xx
I let my phone hit the floor as I fell on my bed with a huge sigh.
I could do this.
xx
82 notes
·
View notes
Text
Using Neuroscience to Launch a Research-Informed School Schedule
It is 8 p.m. and Sam is sitting down for the first time in hours after a long day at school, which was followed by play practice; she is Liesel in the upcoming performance of “The Sound of Music.” After leaving school at 5 p.m., she had a two-hour soccer practice, a brief dinner with her family and a shower.
Finally settling in at her desk, she checks Schoology, her school’s learning management system, to see what homework she has for the six classes she will attend tomorrow. Because Sam has so many classes each day, she has a heavy homework load. Despite her knowledge of existing research about the cost transaction when switching between her academic assignments and an incoming text or Instagram message, she cannot resist social media breaks, which provide dopamine boosts. After all, she is a high school freshman.
Until recently, this late-night homework stress was a common experience for many of the high school students at St. Andrew’s Episcopal School in Potomac, Md. Since 2011, St. Andrew's has been home to the Center for Transformative Teaching and Learning (CTTL), a research center that trains public, charter and private school teachers in mind, brain and education science. The CTTL ensures that 100 percent of the faculty and administration serving students in preK-12th grade at St. Andrew’s are trained in educational neuroscience.
Image Credit: Center for Transformative Teaching and Learning
Ironically, even with this innovative research center, our school was operating on an outdated daily schedule. Each class met four times per week for three 40-minute periods and one 80-minute period. A typical student schedule included six classes per day, all of which assigned daily homework. We knew we could make some changes to the schedule that would better support students.
In fall 2018, after 18 months of planning, we rolled out a new schedule, which was designed with a few goals in mind:
Lengthening all class periods to promote creative teaching and deeper learning
Decreasing the number of class periods per day, therefore reducing homework, cognitive overload and cognitive transitions, to promote focus and moderate the rushed tempo of school life.
Increasing time for students to meet with teachers and their peers during the school day for academic enrichment and healthy socialization.
Minimizing conflicts between class time and other school activities, including assemblies, field trips and athletics.
Elevating time for research-informed professional development and student passion and curiosity pursuit.
Bringing this to launch was not easy. In fact, a decade earlier, our school’s first effort to develop a new daily schedule failed. At the time, a dedicated team of teachers and administrators thought they had come up with the next frontier of school scheduling. The goal back then was to improve the school’s use of time for curricular and co-curricular programming, including arts and athletics. Unfortunately, when the time came to implement this new daily schedule, we couldn’t commit. It never launched.
What was different this time around? Our design was rooted in research.
Over the past seven years, as our implementation of educational neuroscience scaled, many of our teaching, learning and measurement practices changed. Teachers started to open and close their class periods with strategies that leveraged what we had learned about how providing students with novel experiences could boost engagement and memory retention. We explored ways to enhance the quality of homework, which included giving teachers the autonomy to not assign it. As we better understood the link between memory and cognition, and the inner workings of the brain’s architecture, we implemented new ways to care for the social-emotional development of our students. And sleep was acknowledged as vital to the health and well-being of our students—it was even starting to be considered a pedagogical strategy.
Since the CTTL launched, we have collectively evolved our understanding of research in the fields of neuro and cognitive science, behavior psychology and educational theory, and we have come to recognize the gaps between what the research suggests and daily life at our school.
Though we had changed many of our pedagogical practices, our schedule was still outdated. We wondered whether we could leverage research in educational neuroscience to transform it.
In 2017, the CTTL’s student research fellows began collecting qualitative and quantitative data by surveying the ultimate end users of our daily schedule, the students. Next, we took a design thinking approach to engage faculty and parents in the conversation and began logistical planning.
Two of the most intriguing pieces of data collected during student surveys related to class period length and homework. When we asked students about an optimal length of class, they came back with 60 to 65 minutes. When students were asked about a realistic amount of homework time that should be expected of them, we expected to receive most answers declaring “none,” but instead, students saw the value of about 90-minutes of quality homework that was assigned for one of three reasons: retrieval practice, to connect or extend prior learning or to be prepared for the next class period.
When we rolled out the new schedule at the start of the 2018-2019 school year, we recognized that even though we had done theoretical research, making actual changes in our school community would be a process, so we planned to iterate the schedule over the next three years based on feedback from the school community. Launching something imperfect when you already have something that is comfortable can be challenging, but it gave us an opportunity to model what we were already messaging to our students about “failing forward.”
Any change in a school’s daily schedule impacts the entire school community including students, teachers and families. For our teachers, it was an especially emotional transition. I had been at St. Andrew’s for 21 years, and like many of my veteran colleagues, I was quite comfortable with the schedule. Changes like longer, but fewer class periods and less homework required revising curriculum.
That’s one of the reasons why giving ourselves 18 months to transition felt important. As a research-informed school and faculty, we also recognized the importance of testing our ideas. One of the most enjoyable parts of our journey was when we piloted the new schedule for a week in February 2018, seven months before our permanent launch date. While this pilot highlighted some of the schedule’s flaws, it also assured those who were not yet on board that this was a good move. In fact, a few colleagues even suggested that we finish the year with the new schedule.
So, what were the big changes we made? In our new daily schedule, all periods are 65-minutes long and classes now meet three times per week. These changes were inspired by research on block scheduling and why longer teaching periods can lead to great teaching. Classes also rotate the time of the day that they meet, which reduces the homework load, and given what we now know about sleep’s role in memory, school never begins before 8:30 A.M.
On designated Wednesdays, classes begin at 9:20am following a curiosity, passion pursuit and well-being hour for students. During that time, teachers participate in professional development programming that so far this year included working with experts, such as Dr. Robert Dillon to envision how we use space at school and Efrat Furst to help us look at memory.
New schedule for the upper school at St. Andrew's, Image Credit: St. Andrew's
After recently passing the halfway point of the 2018-2019 school year, we’ve lived our new daily schedule for just about six months. The qualitative and quantitative data we’re collecting to make our first round of adjustments for next year has revealed some early successes.
St. Andrew's students building robots; Image credit: St. Andrew's
Most students say the homework load is more manageable and some say they’re going to bed earlier. Students are taking advantage of the curiosity, passions pursuit and well-being hour in a number of ways. Some are building robots, learning to code, getting support from peer tutors or doing homework that they otherwise would have stayed up later to complete—some are using the time to catch up on extra sleep. Teachers have reported that longer class periods are elevating the use of multiple modality instruction and allow now students time to go deeper into discussions and projects, or even begin homework during class time.
Launching something as ambitious as a new daily schedule also has its obstacles. Our teachers love their subjects, and some feel a loss of content coverage, especially in advanced placement (AP) courses due to the fact that there are less periods per week. This is something that will require further planning through summer grant work and professional development that St. Andrew’s provides its teachers.
In the last year, I have had the privilege to travel to public, charter and private schools and districts in seven states, two countries and the District of Columbia. I never heard anyone of them say “we love our daily schedule.” For many school leaders, leveraging research in the science of learning to rethink their daily schedule is truly the next frontier.
For St. Andrew’s, while we have launched and lived for a short time our new schedule, there is much work that remains to be done as we continue to collect feedback on what is going well and what needs improvement. It has not been easy. It has been emotional, and it is a process that makes school systems, administrators, teachers, students and parents think deeply about their priorities and what student-centered truly means. But it is worth it because we now know more about how the brain learns, works, thrives and changes, and we can use that understanding to create a daily schedule that allows each student to be more challenged, creative, healthy and engaged.
Using Neuroscience to Launch a Research-Informed School Schedule published first on https://medium.com/@GetNewDLBusiness
0 notes
Text
SUMERIANTIME BLUES
With a Red Indian Summer chant...Hitherehowareya, hitherehowareya...Hi there, how are ya? Not my joke but I love it. Please don't ask what film it comes from, not exactly highbrow film noir, more low dirty primary colour cartoon. Anyway...let's pretend to be serious...arf.
Greetings from the Golden City/Anarcadia, all hail the black Madonna and the Rosy Cross...Sultry, feral and on heat...In the hollow of the temple, the vein that needs to burst. And at last, a storm to break the tension...release...a bolt of lightning smashed down about twenty metres from my window last night with an intensity of total sound I have never heard before. The ape man cowered in terror and the magician marvelled in thrill, which is how it should be...respect and wonder. Now, Morning song...At dawn there is an unknown bird which trills the first six notes of Stravinsky's The Firebird Suite'. Yes really. And, having checked, it is even the same notes. And the magpies sound like Varese. Meanwhile, back on the island...
Oh Britain... England my cowardly lion heart....I remember reading in 2008 that the UK has1percent of the world's population but 20percent of its CCTV cameras. Now, nine years later....'Rise and rise again till lambs become lions'? Pa! And HA! (Hiram Abif, the architect) From where does such passivity to irrevocable changes stem? GM Frankenfood? The oestrogen in the water supply? Chemtrails? Always seems a touch dubious to me when there are killing attacks made just before a general election and it is revealed that the 'lone wolf' characters were already known to the security services. If I were truly into conspiracy theories (and, despite all appearances, I am not), I might suggest that they were allowed to happen in order to have yet more restrictive laws passed by whichever party is in power. And of course, it is not the parties which hold the actual power. Are those muppet caricatures Boris and Gove going to blather and oil their way up the chain of slime again? At least we have the best sense of humour in the world...self deprecating sarcastic surrealism and a monopoly on fart jokes....
A Czech newspaper had the headline 'Britain Falls into Chaos.' Think that happened quite a long bastard while ago, but it could always be worse, says the realistic pessimist. My imminent 'holiday' in the UK will see me attempting to maintain my distance from the news but it will be hard not to be infected with the national mind set again. A hard discipline of emotional distance is required but I always love walking around the heart of London, the streets are ablaze and swarming with energies, stories and multicolour.
I set a smart teenage student some homework last week about what she would do if she were World President. A moral and well balanced page of A4 writing was handed over where her main idea involved better, deeper education for the poor and the masses (as well as support for genuine refugees and limited time on the Net for young people). Good work. I would start in those countries which pretend to be democracies but appear have become run by and full of deeply soulless idiots such as (fill in the blank). Educatshun is the onlee way forward oar wee is domed. Funn wiv langwidge.
Think about what the Mass believes and the fact that they are a Mass... the believed information used to be 'If the priest/teacher tells me, they must be right'...then that nonsense became 'If its in the papers it must be true'. Now it seems to have become 'If it's on the internet it must be real' Fake news and propaganda...Vested interests... oil and other businesses and Putin surpassing the former work of the CIA and stirring the shit up all over the world. What happens if I push these two groups together... then introduce a third party to cause a deepening chaos? Evil glee. Money to be made and power to be taken because Nature abhors the vacuum left after chaos...and psychic vampires adore the blood energy of fear.
Oliver Stone's serial on Putin...hmmm...does the baldhead truly feel himself as no more than a helpless cog in wheel of history, grinding on events beyond his control? Poor fellow. Looked cute together with the golden shower kid this month.
Heard that Michael Moore is to do a documentary on Duck Fart, sure it will be as righteously destructive as it needs to be...just sticking to the absolute facts and verbatim quotes in context should be enough to do it. Hoist him high on his own petard. Nice headline in the International Guardian about America becoming a rogue state due to the blonde egomaniac's decision to go against the climate change accord (and all his other genuinely insane ideas)...well his poor billionaire friends need all the support they can get eh? 'Evil' is un-evolved energy. So perhaps I should pretend to be a smiling Buddhist and feel sympathy for the sad little (ter)mites. But I don't. He and they of their ilk are ruining this planet and Mother is going to be very very angry. Earth First. Very decent of BP (British Petroleum) to have given Duck Fart 500,000 dollars for his election celebration. After 97 million dollars in corporate donations, you can be sure they expect him to be their whore bitch...or else.
And as for all his posturing against American law itself...after having sworn 'To protect, defend and uphold the Constitution of the United States'...with his hand on the Bible...hmmm....you have to laugh at his infantile rage against a democracy which allowed him within quacking distance of the White House, let alone into the Oval Orifice...Whaddya mean I can't build a wall (between the land grab of Tex Ass and Mexico) and take total control of U.S media? The darkest is yet to come, just before a golden dawn. Illuminated Ones, it is time to get your finger out and SHINE a light
across this globe. Get with it, get this foul reptilian out. The tweeting duck needs spit roasting. But first glaze him with a golden shower eh?
And in other depressing news... one of Osama bin Liner's sons has vowed to continue 'holy' war in his father's name and install a global caliphate. Etc. Nice to have a hobby. Good to keep busy with purpose... Without such, the ennui, nausea and panic set in hard and thoughts turn to suicide rather than mass murder, and we wouldn't want that eh? And yet worse... Au Sang Su Ki...it is becoming apparent that she is following in the bloody footprints of the ones who kept her imprisoned. I truly hope not but the facts scream for themselves. And as for Iran, a country where a girl can be held criminally responsible at the lunar age of 9 (boys get off easier at 15) but cannot actually be executed until they are 18....Allah bless such a merciful state of foul patriarchs...But to close that paragraph with a skateboarding duck story to send you to bed with a smile, good to hear the founding leader of daesh has gone to meet his harem of 72 virgins and their mothers in law, hope that isn't fake news.
Facebook...the recent F8 (FATE) event...new updates to augment reality on your mobile screens and share the images...well this would almost sound like art, if not for the fact 'FACT' (copyright Duck Fart) that Mr Zuckerberg (and here the NSA can pick up on an actual name in these blogs which generally use pseudonyms) is thinking of running for office. Or an orifice, take your pick. My tube/your Facebook is designed to make money and manipulate the gullible and outsource/ in-source their users information while you thrill to the idea of an unreal connection to truth. Suckers. Why let yourself be used as fodder unless you are truly a deep masochist? You had better be DAMN sure that you do not care whether or not you are a puppet. Psychic nudity is only for those who have truly chosen such. I stand by everything I have written in every blog. Networking keeps you in touch with a distorted and distracting version of reality, i-phone therefore I am...anti-social media... 'Every day of your life, you're sitting in a database, just ready to be looked at'. E.S.
Been wondering again about the prevalence of doctors who prescribe drugs just because they have been given free holidays or various enticements by the companies which make them. Not such a far fetched idea unfortunately. I have had recent talks with various chemists in Czech and the UK about this too to check the facts. Seems a real shame that so many healers work against their own Hippocratic Oath. A promise of hypocrisy perhaps. A special circle of Hell is reserved for them...
Apart from my five worsening health problems, I seem to be recording two double cds...33 songs now and another ten possibles on the peripheral third eye horizon. I plan to have only three more sessions in which to complete all. See how I love to count. Wonder which will stop me first, illness or lack of money? Already not looking forward to the non Zen emptiness of winter...so New Zealand here I come...
'I long so much to be where I was before I was me.' (Screamin' Jay Hawkins.)
Occasionally my usual good natured self (ARF/fnord) is over-run by the blackest of humours...yesterday, walking down a long main street, I saw a small group of folk with banners and twisted expressions, and stopped to be given two leaflets which caused me to laugh out loud like Lucifer as I went on my way. Early next morning I checked their web site...; 'RAPTURE... HE WILL COME SOON, ARE YOU READY?'. That's how excited his followers make him feel. Open your orifices and let the load of the lord in. Impregnate thyselves with the holy seed...Sex and religion are always such an arousing mix.
Once more, for the lossless Hi-Fi record, I have my own personal belief in what I call God and the Christ and all the others...what I dislike is those who interrupt without being asked and push their rant/laws/insanity on others. All rivers will flow in return to the ocean. Fundamentalist missionaries of ALL creeds are foul and lonely in desperation and use fear to persuade. No Love in any of them. Humans will find their way...or not. Some of us will, some won't. The energy generated by the few will be stronger than the lack of it from the mass. Phase transitions have been taking place for decades and will continue, sense it for yourself...taking some advice from guides you have manifested in your life by 'coincidence' is not the same as blindly following leaders.
I am fairly close to being a dictionary definition of the word stupid/stoopid, just smart enough to recognise this. I have a certain unbalanced logic but made my choices decades ago. To the bitter-sweet end and until I am screaming with pain for one reason or another, will regret nothing except not having been a father. Fuj to the liars and manipulators, their own poison will destroy them eventually. Not in my lifetime but quite possibly in theirs. Self educate yourself but check the source and when certain, flow with it. Blah blah blah...Trust yourself but only after you know who and what you are. I will be all right if you kiss me. So sayeth the Omega Male.
'Better to keep silent and be thought a fool, than to open your mouth and remove all doubt'. Abraham Lincon said that, yes really. I should certainly shut up, but after all these pages, it must surely be clear just how deep a fool I am anyway. Anyway...
Next in the sequence of slogans and logos noticed these days, a girl with a bag upon which was written; 'Walk like you're a mediocre white man'. Easy enough to obey that command. I met an exceptionally cool black African guy last month who was applying for status here. He spoke excellent French, having lived there...I asked him why he wanted to live in Prague rather than France and he replied 'There's too many black people in France.' He was a true believer of Almighty Jah and one of his favourite songs was 'You'll Never Walk Alone' because of 'its righteous truth'. Effortlessly natural and down to Earth, with his soul in Heaven already. Surely even Nazis must realise on how many levels white folk suck? Perhaps that is one basis for their hatred...jealousy.
Back in a room with golden light, curtains of smoke at 8pm, yes I am smoking again, surely the dumbest thing anyone can choose to do...And back to Dexedrine jazz 1958, still amazed how much I love this now, a broadening mature palette or a genuine sign of old age? Straight, no chaser.... Miles Davis and John Coltrane in wild abandoned synchronised improvising harmony...My liver is going the same way as Coltranes', shame I don't have an eighth of his talent. If I could play guitar the same way I whistle, I'd be a star. Or a black hole. Arf. Anyway...the next evening...
Wide open window...evening sky, sunlight on the cloud rims, the swallows circling, the dark green spaces between the leaves of the Horse Chestnut tree...even the houses look beautiful in glass and stone, a breeze through the window, breathing, every atom open in expectant silence. Beauty. Good to feel alive before you no longer inhabit flesh. A day is a wasted blasphemy without creating, working or truly taking it easy and watching the river. Wonders never cease...Love is Light...
See you later or not, meanwhile...you (yes, YOU) might like to have a look at this website and follow various links within the vast library. Knowledge of actual truths is always useful, so go and get Gnostic on yourself...
www.halexandria.org/home.htm
Have fun, may ye be illuminated:-)
0 notes
Last Seen Blogs
mebalikirig
Untitled
whiteinch83
Magnifier Engine Free Download
monya1
Monya_designer
topmaubietthudep-blog
Sans titre
thef155
fiftyfive