So, okay, fun fact. When I was a freshman in high school⌠let me preface by saying my dad sent me to a private school and, like a bad organ transplant, it didnât take. I was miserable, the student body hated me, I hated them, it was awful.
Okay, so, freshman year, Iâm deep in my âeverything sucks and Iâm stuck with these assholesâ mentality. My English teacher was a notorious hard-ass, letâs call him Mr. Hargrove. He was the guy every student prayed they didnât get. And, on top of ALL OF THE SHIT I WAS ALREADY DEALING WITH, I had him for English.
One of the laborious assignments he gave us was to keep a daily journal. Daily! Not monthly or weekly. Fucking daily. Handwritten. And we had to turn it in every quarter and he fucking graded us. He graded us on a fucking journal.
All of my classmates wrote shit like what they did that day or whatever. But, I did not. No, sir. I decided to give the olâ middle finger to the assignment and do my own shit.
So, for my daily journal entries, over the course of an entire year, I wrote a serialized story about a horde of man-eating slugs that invaded a small mining town. It was graphic, it was ridiculous, it was an epic feat of rebellion.
And Mr. Hargrove loved it.
It wasnât just the journal. Every assignment he gave us, I tried to shit all over it. Every reading assignment, everyone gushed about how good it was, but I always had a negative take. Every writing assignment, people wrote boring prose, but I wrote cheesy limericks or pulp horror stories.
Then, one day, he read one of my essays to the class as an example of good writing. When a fellow student asked who wrote it, he said, âSome pipsqueak.â
And thatâs when I had a revelation. He wanted to fight. And since all the other students were trying to kiss his ass, I was his only challenger.
Mr. Hargrove and I went head-to-head on every assignment, every conversation, every fucking thing. And he ate it up. And so did I.
One day, he read us a column from the Washington Post and asked the class what was wrong with it. Everyone chimed in with their dumbass takes, but I was the one who landed on Mr. Hargroveâs complaint: The reporter had BRAZENLY added the suffix âizeâ to a verb.
That night I wrote a jokey letter to the reporter calling him out on the offense in which I added âizeâ to every single verb. I gave it to Mr. Hargrove, who by then had become a friendly adversary, for a chuckle and he SENT IT TO THE REPORTER.
And, people⌠The reporter wrote back. And he said I was an exceptional student. Mr. Hargrove and I had a giggle about that because we both knew I was just being an asshole, but he and the reporter acknowledged I had a point.
And that was it. That was the moment. Not THAT EXACT moment, but that year with Mr. Hargrove taught me I had a knack for writing. And that knack was based in saying âfuck youâ to authority. (The irony that someone in a position of authority helped me realize that is not lost on me.)
So, I can say without qualification that Mr. Hargrove is the reason I am now a professional writer. Yes, I do it for a living. And most of my stuff takes authorities of one kind or another to task.
Mr. Hargrove showed me my dissent was valid, my rebellion was righteous, and that killer slugs could bring a city to its knees. Someone just needs to write it.
Since I complained about accidentally writing a fic again, have a sneak peek into said accidental fic. Protecting Pack, the human Alpha Stiles Steter fic coming to an AO3 near you on April 7th:
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Why was Peter helping him? Why had he drained Stilesâ pain? Drove him to the Argents to find Boyd and Erica? Stiles didnât understand it and the fact that the wolf refused to reveal what angle he was working was so damn infuriating. Which was why Stiles decided to keep Peter close, keep an eye on the wolf, until he knew what game Peter was playing.
Peter was too damn smart for all their good, if he was up to something, itâd be even worse this time around. Because he seemed much clearer and he had already been terrifyingly efficient and clever even out of his mind, so Stiles couldnât imagine what Peter was capable of when he had his whole mind to put into his plans.
There was a vindictive, dark voice in the back of his mind that whispered he wanted to see it. He wanted to see Peter go after Gerard with the same single-minded focus and brutal efficiency as he had with Kate. He wanted to see Peter tear out Gerardâs throat and spill the manâs blood. Peter Hale was a merciless guard dog ready to sink his teeth into anyone who was a threat to those he considered his. And a part of Stiles wanted to hold the leash.
âDarling?â Peterâs voice was too damn gentle and concerned. âDo you want me to find them?â
Blinking slowly, Stiles stared at the wolf as a startling realization set in. He was already holding the leash. That was why Peter was helping him. Was driving him around. Wasnât killing him. Stiles didnât know why or how, but somehow, he had ended up holding the leash. The thrill this knowledge sent through Stiles was nearly as startling as the realization itself.
âFind them. I need to⌠They need to be fine. I need them to be fine. Theyâre pack. My pack.â
Peter tilted his head, greed in his too blue eyes. These eyes felt like they could see right through Stiles, understood the distinction Stiles had just made. Not part of whatever mess the Beacon Hills pack was right now, but specifically part of Stilesâ pack. Because nobody else had been looking for him, nobody else had been trying to protect him down there. Nobody else had been looking at him, the way they had looked at him when Gerard had tortured him. The way Peter had looked at him in the warehouse. That thought made Stiles frown and tilt his head.
Summary: When the first snow falls in Aretia, that means it's time for baking cookies, building a blanket fort, and lots of playfulness.
Warnings: Swearing, one tiny injury, the reader is implied to be on the smaller side physically and kind of a brat (sorry, I just got very self-indulgent with this đ )
A/N: Since I mostly only bake recipes in my first language I'm not that familiar with English baking terminology, so please feel free to correct me if anything doesn't make sense the way I phrased it!
It's 4:32 in the morning when you burst into Bodhi's room â and that's entirely his own fault for not locking the door. He jolts awake, immediately reaching for a dagger as you jump onto his bed, excitedly whispering, "Wake up, it's snowing!"
With an exasperated groan, your cousin drops his weapon and sinks back into the pillows. "It's the middle of the fucking night, bubs."
"No, it's not," you insist, shaking him slightly. "You have to get up in an hour or two anyway. And it's snowing! You hear me? It's finally snowing enough to not immediately melt away again!"
Bodhi tugs on his covers, trying to pull them over his head, but he can't with you sitting on top of him. "Mhh, I heard you the first time," he grumbles. "Now can I please go back to sleep?"
"No."
"Don't be a fucking brat." He's trying to sound strict and commanding, but he's still sleepy and it sounds more like a whine than anything else. "Can't you go bother someone else with your snow?"
You know you kind of are being a brat, but that's never stopped you before, so why should it now? Fully yanking the covers from his grasp, you pout down at him. "Nope. No way am I entering Xaden's room uninvited. I really, really don't want to know what him and Violet are doing in there."
"Probably sleeping, like any sane person," Bodhi grumbles. "What about Garrick? I'm sure he'd love to be woken up just because it snowed."
"Better not..." Unlike Bodhi, Garrick would certainly win a tug of war for the covers. "You're awake anyway now, so you might as well do me the favor and get up," you reason. "Please!"
Bodhi makes another attempt to get his comforter back. "Why do you even want me to get up? It's still dark and it's cold. You can stay here if you just let me sleep some more, how about that?"
For a moment, you consider it, always tempted by the prospect of cuddles. But there's a fresh layer of snow waiting outside, glittering in the fading moonlight and just about begging you to be the first to leave your footprints in it.
"Nope. Get up, we're building a snowman."
Knowing when it's time to give up, Bodhi stops fighting and drops his hands. "Ugh, fine. Get off me, then."
"Can we bake cookies today?" you ask Xaden later that morning, coming up behind him in the line for breakfast and jumping onto his back.
"I have toâ" he starts, shaking his head, but you interrupt him. Whatever oh so important stuff he thinks he has to get done today, it can't possibly be more important than cookies.
"Nuh-uh. Fuck that. You can take a break from all your big bad responsibilities."
"You do remember we're at war, right?" He shakes you off, turning to lift a brow at you.
"War can wait!"
"That's not how that works."
"You're not going to bring on the end of the world by taking a day off, Xaden. Give yourself a break. You deserve it."
"You know how useless it is to argue with her about when to bake," Bodhi comes to your aid. "If there's snow, there have to be cookies, too. And she's right, you really fucking deserve a day off."
Xaden scowls, but you can tell how much he wants to give in. "Teaming up on me now, are you?"
"We always baked cookies as soon as it properly snowed," you insist, barely stopping yourself from stomping your foot like an angry toddler. "It's bad enough that we couldn't do it the last six years, but now we're finally home, so we have to do it again! Please!"
Xaden looks between you and Bodhi, both giving him the same pleading look, sighs and raises his palms in defeat. "Fine. But only if Violet can join, too."
"Of course." You grin, throwing yourself at him in a hug. "Thank you! I'll tell Garrick."
Xaden grabs you by the back of your shirt before you can run off. "Breakfast first, though. Let's just meet in the kitchen in about an hour, okay?"
You agree, and leave them standing there when Xaden lets go of you.
"âdragged me out of bed to play in the snow at five this morning," Bodhi is complaining when he walks into the kitchen with Xaden, Garrick and Violet an hour later, but the smile he can't quite hide gives away that he didn't mind it nearly as much as he's pretending.
You've already prepared the dough for one of the recipes you plan on making while you waited for them. Wiping your hands on your apron, you turn to face them, hands on your hips. "You guys are late."
"Looks like you're doing just fine without us," Xaden remarks with a pointed look at the ball of dough before you.
"Yeah, well, as you should know, this has to be in the cold for at least an hour or two before we can roll it out and cut the cookies without it crumbling," you say and open the window, placing the dough outside on the snow-dusted windowsill. "Let's make the white almond ones in the meantime, yeah?"
Bodhi scrunches his face in thought. "Almond ones? What almond ones?"
"I think she means those ugly cloud looking blobs that fall apart when you bite into them," Garrick says.
"Ohh, fuck yeah! I love those," Bodhi agrees, reaching for one of the aprons hanging on hooks in the corner. "Let's go!"
You nod, but before you can get started, the others need aprons too. Garrick and Violet obediently put on the ones you hand them, but a certain someone decides to be difficult.
Folding his arms across his chest, your brother glares down at the brightly striped fabric you hold out to him. "I don't take orders from first-years. And I'm definitely not wearing a fucking apron."
"Yes, you are. If you don't, you can get right the fuck out, and if you don't help, you won't get any cookies, either."
Xaden might be in charge on the battlefield, but in the kitchen, you are the boss. He knows it, too, snatching the apron from your hand and tying it around his waist while grumbling something about you being a brat under his breath. Everyone seems to agree on that today, but as long as they do what you want, that's fine with you.
You grab a fresh bowl and instruct Bodhi to hand you four eggs while Garrick searches for the whisk.
"Did everyone wash their hands?" Violet makes sure, and you all nod.
"Okay, so what's first?" Bodhi asks, placing the eggs on the counter before you.
"First someone has to separate four eggs for me."
"Still haven't learned how to do it?" Xaden teases, cracking an egg as Garrick takes another to do the same.
"I have, actually," you inform him. "It's just that you're better at it."
"Are we? Or do you just not like having sticky hands from the eggs running over them?"
"Both." You shrug with an unapologetic grin. "You can put the yolks aside, we only need the whites for this."
"What do we do with them?"
"Beat until very stiff, and slowly add in the sugar," you reply, taking the whisk and getting started once all four egg whites are in the bowl. Needless to say, your enthusiasm doesn't last long. "My arm hurts."
"Seriously?" Xaden laughs. "You're a bonded rider, strongest of your year, yet you still can't whisk a bunch of eggwhites?"
"I didn't say I can't. I just said my arm is tired. If you don't want to help me, I'm perfectly capable of finishing this on my own."
"Just give it here," Xaden says, playfully rolling his eyes at you as he takes the bowl from you and continues whisking with an efficiency you can only envy. Soon the eggs turn into a fluffy foam, and you slowly add in the sugar while Xaden keeps mixing.
"Okay, now to carefully fold the almond slivers into the mass."
You take that task upon yourself, Violet slowly adding in the almonds for you while Xaden prepares the baking tray and grabs some teaspoons with which to transfer the mass.
The three of you scoop it onto the baking tray in small piles, while Bodhi goes poking at the dough on the windowsill. "Should we start rolling this out while you get those into the oven?"
"You can check if it's cold enough, but it's probably still too soft." Garrick opens his mouth, and you whirl around to point your spoon at him. "Don't you dare make a dick joke," you warn.
"I'd never!"
"Then what were you going to say, huh?"
Garrick clears his throat and looks away, damning himself with his lack of answer.
You nod. "That's what I thought. Close the window, Bodhi, there's no point cutting those yet if we have to wait until these are done to put them in the oven, anyway."
While you place the baking tray in the oven, Xaden offers the batter rests to Violet behind your back â predictable, but still disappointing.
You jump to their side. "Let me too!"
Xaden rolls his eyes, and Violet laughs. "Don't worry, there's enough for all of us. We could've probably gotten a couple more cookies out of this."
"Probably, but we've earned a treat."
"I thought the cookies are going to be our treat?"
"Well, yeah. But we also deserve a treat now."
"So, how long do these have to be in the oven?" Garrick asks.
"About an hour."
"Great, and what are we supposed to do in the meantime?"
"Wait for them to be done?"
"I'm not going to sit here doing nothing for an hour!"
"We could have a snowball fight," you suggest.
"Absolutely not," Xaden immediately shuts you down. "The cookies would be ashes by the time we make it back inside."
"Let's play memory," Bodhi suggests. "You still have one somewhere, don't you?"
"More like half a dozen of 'em," Xaden scoffs under his breath.
"Yeah, I think so," you reply.
Since Xaden isn't entirely wrong about a snowball fight taking too long, you go with Bodhi's idea. Five minutes of digging through a sideboard you haven't touched since your return to Aretia turns up a whole pile of old board and card games, Bodhi's favorite memory among them.
"Xaden, you keep an eye on the time," you order, laying out the cards under the boys' watchful gazes. It may have been years since you've played any games together, but apparently they remember all to well how much you used to cheat at most of them.
"Always me," your brother complains, but dutifully takes out his pocket watch.
It doesn't take long until you regret that you didn't even try to cheat. You'd never had to, always the champion when it came to memory. But then of course, you'd never played it with Violet before. She's crazy good at this. While you have a meager three pairs so far, she is collecting pair after pair, her stack of cards already bigger than all of your and the boys' put together.
Twice she wins, leaving you in second place. You're about to demand you play another round, but the time is up, and Xaden drags you to your feet.
"Stop sulking and come take the cookies from the oven."
"Fine, but I want a rematch later," you insist, still pouting a little as you follow him to the kitchen.
Violet offers you a smile. "Sure. We can play as many rounds as you want."
"Oh, you'll regret that," Xaden laughs. "She'll keep you up till morning, or until you let her win."
You gasp. "Let me win?! No, no, no. Don't you dare!"
Violet laughs, putting her hands up. "Don't worry, I'm not planning on it."
The almond meringues turn out perfect, and after everyone tries one and the rest are put away, you start on the butter cookies. By now, the dough is perfectly chilled, and Xaden easily rolls it out as thin as possible.
There's only one problem.
"Where the fuck are our cookie cutters?!"
"They're not in the drawer," Bodhi reports, shrugging apologetically when your glare darkens even more at his words.
You look from him to Xaden to Garrick, skipping over Violet, since she certainly had nothing to do with this. "Okay, which of you idiotsâ"
"Oh, no," Xaden interrupts you. "Don't blame this on us. As you said yourself, you're the one in charge of the kitchen, and you were the last one to put them away before the apostasy."
"Yeah, well, I definitely put them in the drawer where they belong, soâ"
You stop short as Violet takes a small tin box from one of the cabinets, holding it out to you so you can see inside. "Are these the cookie cutters we're looking for?"
"Yes!" You beam at her, grateful she had the sense to just search while you others stood and argued. Then your face darkens again as you realize none of you would've put them into that particular cabinet, with the fancy tea service of all things. Which meansâ "Someone used our cookie cutters while we were gone."
"Apparently." Bodhi shrugs. "So what?"
"Those are ours!"
"Yeah, yeah. I know, baby. And they're all still here, so it's not a big deal. Now do you want to throw a tantrum or are we going to make cookies?"
Thus made aware of how childish you're being, you take a deep breath to calm yourself down and mutter, "Make cookies."
Bodhi nods. "Thought so. Come on then, you can cut the first one."
You don't have to be told twice, deciding on the star-shaped one. The others grab cutters too, and soon the first tray of cookies is in the oven.
"When we were kids we did this every winter," you tell Violet, grinning at the memory as you work side by side, filling a second tray. "It was a whole tradition, with Garrick coming over for the weekend and the four of us building a pillow fort in Xaden's room and sleeping there in a huge pile of fluffy blankets and cookie crumbs."
"Sounds fun."
"It was. Is. I think we're too big for the pillow fort part, though." When Bodhi gasps and stares at you as if you just declared the end of the world, you amend, "Well, at least Xaden and Garrick are. I guess we could make one without them and put a sign in the entrance that says 'no giants allowed' or something."
"Excuse you?!" Xaden crosses his arms, glaring down at you. "No way you're building a blanket fort without us."
"It's not my fault you'd bring the whole thing crashing down!"
"We wouldn't!"
"Sure you would!"
"We'll just have to make it a big pillow fort," Bodhi tries to dissolve the argument. "Then we can all fit inside."
"But a big pillow fort isn't as cozy as a small one!"
"If we use enough blankets and pillows it will be," Garrick insists, adding, "Now stop being a brat and take those cookies from the oven before they burn."
You pivot to look into the oven, and sure enough the first batch is already a little darker than the soft golden shade they're supposed to turn. Cursing Garrick for not taking them out himself upon seeing this, and muttering about how he isn't the boss of you, you hurriedly rescue the poor cookies.
The rest turn out better, and time seems to fly until all that's left to do is decorate them.
"Don't you think that's a bit too much chocolate?" Violet asks, looking over your shoulder as you melt it on the stove.
"Probably," you admit, "but better too much than too little."
"Especially since more of it will end up in two certain someones' stomachs instead of on the cookies," Garrick laughs.
Bodhi nods, adding, "Between Xaden and Y/N, getting rid of leftover chocolate definitely won't be an issue."
"Oh, shut up, Bodhi, you're no better!"
When your cousin tries to object to that accusation, you grab another cookie and shove it in his mouth. It earns you a kick against your shin, but at least you get the last word.
Not that him and Garrick were wrong, exactly, you silently admit as you catch yourself licking chocolate from your fingers for the umpteenth time a little later. But it's hardly your fault that decorating always makes such a mess, and covering everything in chocolate-fingerprints would be worse.
And there! A whole spoonful of chocolate glazing disappears into Bodhi's mouth, hypocrite that he is! Meeting his eyes, you raise a brow at him, but he just grins and shrugs.
You blow a raspberry at him, and focus back on the cookie you're decorating.
"We should have dinner and finish this later," Garrick suggests when about half the cookies are decorated.
You blink at him, taking another cookie and slowly shoving the whole thing into your mouth while staring him down from your seat on the counter.
He blows out an exasperated breath. "No, Y/N, we can't have only cookies for dinner."
You share a look with your brother.
"I mean, we could," he says slowly, like he's only just realizing it. "Who's going to stop us?"
"Common sense?" Violet suggests, but judging by the way she's eyeing the fresh cookies, you doubt it'd take much to convince her.
"We already had nothing but cookies for lunch," Garrick gripes. "I need some real food!"
"He's not wrong," Bodhi admits.
Violet also nods, giving Xaden an apologetic smile. "I could use a proper meal too."
Xaden looks at you. "Guess we're overruled."
"Fiiine," you sigh. "Let's eat some real food."
After your dinner break, it takes another hour to finish decorating the cookies, and by the time you've cleaned up, it's full night outside.
"Okay, so are we serious about doing the sleepover, too?" Garrick asks.
"Of course! Right, Xay?"
He shrugs, pretending nonchalance, but you know him too well to fall for that. He loves the blanket fort part of this tradition. "If you insist."
Damn right you do. Someone has to, after all, and if everyone else is too used to playing the responsible adult, well, you have no problem being the childish one and forcing happiness upon them.
The others agree too, and Bodhi slaps his hands. "Okay, let's go then."
"Wait, but we're not done," you hold them back. "I want to make those nougat thingies too!"
"Those aren't cookies," Bodhi says.
"I don't care what they are, I want them."
Xaden ruffles your hair. "We'll make them tomorrow, okay? It's late, and we still have to put up the pillow fort."
"And don't forget that you wanted to play another round of memory," Garrick reminds you, "though why you would want to torture yourself like that is beyond me."
You reluctantly give in, since you know Xaden likes the nougat treats just as much as you do, and will probably keep word about making them tomorrow. It really has gotten late, you realize, yawning wide around another cookie.
Bodhi is already piling more onto a plate to take up to Xaden's room for later, along with a teapot full of hot chocolate.
"Okay, everyone get all the blankets and pillows you have and bring them to Xaden's room." Pointing at Violet and Xaden you add, "You take the cookies and hot chocolate, but leave some for us!"
No sooner said than done, you're all gathered in Xaden's room a few minutes later, a huge pile of blankets and pillows dumped onto his bed. You stand around it in a rough circle, staring at your building material in thoughtful silence.
"Sooo... How did this work again?" Garrick finally says.
Xaden scratches his head, then slowly walks to his desk and takes the chair, moving it so it's a few steps away from the desk. "We definitely need this over here to hold up the blankets."
"I think we always used to tuck one side of the top blanket into the armoire," you say, "and then tie the other end to the chair, right?"
Bodhi nods. "And then we drape another one across from the desk and also tie it to the chair."
"Okay, let's try that and then go from there," Xaden decides. "Just keep in mind that it has to be bigger than it used to."
"Yeah, yeah. We know."
After forty minutes, two failed attempts and half a dozen arguments about the correct layout of a pillow fort, you're finally finished, and this time, it's sturdy and big enough that everyone is satisfied with the result.
"Perfect." You spread out on a pile of pillows, admiring your handiwork. "I think this might actually be the best blanket fort we've ever built."
Xaden nods, but then nudges you with his foot before you can get truly comfortable. "You have chocolate all over your sleeve, bug. Go get changed before you get everything dirty."
Since pajamas will be much more comfortable anyway, you all head back to your own rooms to get changed, before meeting back in Xaden's room.
"Not a fucking word," you growl after a single look at the barely suppressed grins on the boys' faces upon your entering the room.
"You've had those pajamas since you were, what, ten? And you still have to roll up the pants' legs?" Garrick laughs.
"It's not my fault they made these for fucking spiders or something!"
"Spiders?" Bodhi chokes out, laughing so hard you're sure he'll bring the whole pillow fort crashing down any moment.
Even Xaden is laughing, though he tries to hide his face against Violet's neck. She's chuckling too, but there's a look on her face that tells you that too long pants are an issue she, too, is familiar with.
"Yeah! No one who isn't a spider has legs so abnormally long!"
The boys only laugh harder, and yeah, okay, the spider comparison is ridiculous. Whatever.
Since you're not going to just stand there and let them laugh at you, you grab one of the pillows not yet inside the fort and hurl it straight at Garrick's face. He's the one who started making fun of you, and the only one standing far enough away from the pillow fort that you can be sure you won't accidentally tear it down.
Your aim is true, and Garrick takes a step back with an angry yelp, catching the pillow before it can hit the floor to fire it right back you. You duck beneath it, jumping behind the bed for cover and grabbing the last two pillows left on it.
Garrick ducks into the pillow fort for ammunition of his own â a perfect target. One pillow hits his behind just as intended, but the other flies past him, hitting Bodhi instead. Your cousin narrows his eyes at you, picking up the pillow and nodding at Garrick.
They're ganging up on you â and you're out of ammo.
Ducking behind the cover of the bed again proves useless, as they come rushing around it seconds later, both of their arms loaded with pillows they start firing at you as soon as they're in range.
"Xay, help!" you squeal, picking up one of the pillows they threw at you to defend yourself as you retreat toward the wall.
Your brother takes his time coming to your rescue, but his picking up a pillow and slowly walking over is enough to draw Garrick's attention away from you. Faced with only Bodhi now, you have room to go into the offense yourself.
"Every time," Xaden grumbles, his shadows saving you from getting hit on the head by a bunch of books a stray pillow knocks from the shelf above you. "They do this every fucking time."
You grin, jumping on top of Bodhi, who has fallen onto Xaden's bed, and think to yourself that that's exactly why you always have these sleepovers in Xaden's room and not yours. He doesn't have nearly as much fragile knickknacks on his shelves as you do.
Bodhi puts his years of sparring experience to use and easily breaks your hold on him, rolling both of you to the side â and right off the bed.
You slam into the floor with a loud thud, the carpet doing nothing to cushion your fall as Bodhi's weight on top of you crushes the air from your lungs. Tears spring to your eyes at the pain shooting through the back of your head.
"Ow," you whimper, the sound embarrassingly high pitched and whiny.
Shadows grab Bodhi by the back of his shirt and lift him off you before he can react as Xaden rushes to your side. You swat his hands away from your head, blink a few times to clear your vision, mumbling that you're fine.
"How many fingers am I holding up?"
"Three." You slowly sit up, slowly regaining your composure. "Now get out of my face, I'm fine."
"Let me see your head," Xaden insists. "The way it sounded, you hit it pretty hard."
Since you know the stubborn ass won't back off, you let him inspect the back of your head, waving Bodhi's apology aside. Gods know your roughhousing has lead to this kind of accident often enough over the years that it's no big deal.
"Doesn't look too bad," Xaden decrees. "But you'll probably get quite the bump."
"Told you I'm fine."
"Still, you should probablyâ"
Spotting a pillow on the floor just inside your reach, you grab it and hurl yourself at Bodhi, ignoring whatever your brother is trying to say.
"Haven't you had enough?" Bodhi asks, struggling to fend you off.
"No."
"ârest." Xaden sighs. "Right. Never mind, then."
You jump to your feet, bumping your brother's shoulder. "Come on, you, me, and Vi against Bodhi and Garrick!"
"Hold up, why should it be three against two in your favor?!" Garrick complains.
"Because Vi and me are small."
Bodhi rolls his eyes. "As if that makes any difference! Everyone against everyone would be fairer!"
"I don't care, I want teams!"
You don't give them the chance to argue any more, throwing one pillow at Garrick and hitting Bodhi over the head with another.
Violet shrugs and joins you, leaving your brother no choice but to go along too.
You're very glad Violet is on your team; her aim is immaculate, every pillow she throws landing right on target â unlike yours, which uselessly smack against the wall half of the time. But you do your part too, keeping hold of your favorite fuzzy pillow and hitting your opponents with it every time they come within your reach.
Finally, Bodhi and Garrick surrender. After moving all the pillows back into the blanket fort, you flop onto them, thoroughly exhausted. The memory rematch will have to wait until morning, you decide. Tired as you are, your chances of beating Violet at it are worse than ever.
"Good night guys," you mumble, feeling one of the others settle down at your side. You don't hear their reply anymore, already drifting off.
When you wake up, your arms have both fallen asleep, trapped underneath yourself and Bodhi respectively. You try to untangle yourself without waking anyone, but Bodhi stirs.
"Not this again, Y/N," he mumbles, clearly remembering your shenanigans from the morning before.
"No, we can sleep some more," you whisper back. "I just have to pee."
Bodhi grunts and rolls over to go back to sleep, leaving you to try and pick your way between the others without stepping on anyone in the dark somehow.
On the way back from the bathroom, you decide to grab a snack while you're up anyway. But as you approach the plate of cookies, a sound coming from its direction has you stopping in your tracks. It almost sounds like... chewing?
Yes, it's definitely chewing. A cookie thief, beating you to your midnight snack.
Tiptoing closer, you try to make out the person's silhouette, but it's too dark. Well, whoever it is, they're in for an unpleasant time if they took the last of the cookies. You're fully awake now and craving sugar, and you absolutely refuse to walk all the way to the kitchen for a cookie.
Your stretched out hand makes contact with someone's head, an annoyed huff their only reaction. Recognizing your brother when your fingers skim the line of his eyebrow-scar, you remove your hand from the proximity of accidentally poking him in the eye and instead feel around for the plate of cookies.
Of course it's Xaden. And of course your approach didn't startle him, what with his shadow powers. He's probably been silently laughing at you the whole time as you clumsily felt your way through the dark. Well, just wait until you get a signet, too. Then you'll show him.
But for now, cookies. You're convinced Xaden is deliberately moving the plate from your reach, otherwise you certainly would've touched it by now. Hearing him bite into another cookie as you still unsuccessfully feel around, you've had enough.
"Share!" you hiss, hand finding his arm and moving along it in hopes of finding the plate, but no luck. His hand is empty.
"The plate's right in front of you," he whispers back, and you swear you can hear him smirking. "Just take one."
"Asshole."
But this time you listen closely to his movements when he takes another cookie, and reaching into that spot, your hand closes around one too. And it's the last one, you realize, sliding your other hand over the plate as you bite into the cookie. It's Xaden's luck he let you have it, otherwise you might've had to draw a dick on his face as revenge while he slept.
Speaking of sleep, you really should go back to bed.
Xaden seems to have had the same thought. His hand brushes over the top of your head as he steps around you, then shadows wind around your arms and guide you back into the pillow fort after him, saving Bodhi from getting your foot in his face and tucking you in as you snuggle into your cousin's side.
Okay, granted, itâs been a while since Iâve seen âall trans readers like one kind of fic, and no trans readers ever like another kind of fic, so it is Transphobia when you write the Wrong Kind.â
âŚbut it hasnât been that long since Iâve seen someone quietly wonder if theyâre a Bad Trans Person for having preferences.
So itâs never a bad time to say: different people have different needs, and itâs okay to be fulfilled by different kinds of stories!
(heck, the same person might have different needs at different points in their own life, and thatâs okay too)
hey kids following me seriously donât smokeâŚi know the commercials are fucking annoying but that doesnât make it worth it and quitting is hard, i havenât had a cig in like six months and i still get bad cravings and think about smoking every other day
that includes vaping, ESPECIALLY cheap vapes you buy online from like e-bay. If youâre going to vape then get a good-quality one from a reputable source otherwise it can hurt you really badly. But donât start a nicotine addiction if you donât already have one. Itâs really, really not worth it. Iâm not going to use scare tactics or bash you or talk down to you if you already smoke or vape but itâs just some friendly advice.
People are reblogging this with tags like âwhy would you have a nicotine addiction, idiots, its boring/only for edgy points, smoke weed insteadâ and that just so utterly misses the point of my postâŚI didnât start smoking for âedgy pointsâ, I started because I grew up around a family that smokes, I was stressed as hell, and just that first cig made me feel better in the moment.Â
I get what youâre trying to say but you have to understand that there are kids who grow up on tobacco, there are kids who donât know how else to cope, there are kids who think itâs a small way to rebel against someone who hasnât treated them fairly. Most of these kids are in poverty or are seriously struggling. Itâs not fair to label them as nothing but attention seeking morons.
This falls into the category of âmaking kids feel like shit for smokingâ which you shouldnât do. It only breeds resentment and kids donât deserve to feel that way.Â
in full disclosure when i was at my worst mental health wise i debated starting to smoke every day exactly because i KNEW it was harmful and it would just bring me slowly closer to death
let me stress one more time: smoking is addiction. no matter what it is: tobacco, vape, weed - there are serious concequences to your health (and money), and itâs quite hard to stop doing it.
you donât want to spend time smoking while you could spend doing something else, even if itâs nothing.
you donât want to smoke in designated areas or outside, especially if weather is raging with all its might and its the only place you can smoke (not to mention the inevitable littering).
you donât want to smoke in your home, where it can take awhile to vent it (and if you donât, guess what - second hand smoking is still toxic for your health).
you donât want to debate with yourself whether you should spend money on food or on smoking.
if you smoked for awhile, you must build the nerves of steel to resist doing again, and dark days will be waiting for you to fail.
there are people allergic to smoke - they canât be around you when you smoke (hell, imagine if youâre one of them and youâre smoking).
itâs better to never start smoking - itâs easier and better choice in long run (and for every idiot that pressures you to start smoking - tell them to fuck themselves with whatever they smoke).
Donât start smoking unless you want to ruin every long flight or long train ride or anything where youâre forced to be inside for a long period of time and unable to smoke. Smoking makes these situations like long flights, train rides, or anything that makes you stuck inside for a while complete agony. Donât start in the first place.
If youâre currently on HRT or planning to get surgery, smoking can be *especially* dangerous and may prevent you from receiving that care.
Smoking while taking feminizing hormones exponentially increases your risk of cancer. Why? Because your breast tissue (which is right above your lungs) is growing, which requires more oxygen & blood. If youâre smoking, that oxygen can contain carcinogens, which will now be stored in all that brand new tissue.
Smoking while on estrogen also increases the risk of blood clots & heart attack
Nicotine REDUCES the circulation of estrogen, so it can essentially nullify your hormones.
Being a smoker puts you at higher risk during surgery by minimizing circulation, which can lead to infection and even tissue death.
Tobacco companies *specifically* target the LGBT+ community (e.g. pride events, bars, etc) because they know we are 1. less likely to quit 2. face higher levels of stress 3. are less likely to have health insurance
Please know, Iâm not sharing this information as scare tactic, but rather trans folks are often not given this information or have providers who arenât aware of it.
You matter. Your body and health matters. Weâre here for you â¤
was unaware of those last two bits. and to my followers, PLEASE donât start. its totally not worth it. I come from a family of smokers and had my experiences with it too. not fun in the slightest and just ends badly if you let it continue.
I really wish there was a way Uncle Aaron lived and came back to meet his âhusbandâ at some point now.
Aaron: âŚMilesâŚI love you, and I am proud of youâŚbut you are somehow the smartest and dumbest boy I have ever known.
Miles: Says the man who used his big brain to become a criminal when he couldâve been a black Tony Stark with that gear he made. And thought working for the Kingpin, who everyone knows will throw his minions away like tissues, was a good idea!
Peter: He makes a good point, babe, you did kind of mess up firstâ
Aaron: Call me babe again and see what happens. Iâll whoop you with a collapsed lung.
No but seriously as Iâve gotten older I realize more and more that although white gays do face certain levels of oppression they are still white people.....like does that make sense?
Like yes a white lesbian has some form oppression against her but sheâs still a white woman..... and the same thing for white gay men and white trans men and women like theyâre still white !!!!!!
Like I donât mean this in a rude way but like if weâre going to be honest about the lgbtq community we should also talk about how the white people in said community oppress poc and it doesnât change just because theyâre in a minority group theyâre still white people
And like personally Iâve seen that white lgbtq ppl hate when you bring up that their still white because theyâve separated themselves in their mind as being better but theyâre still white!!!
And im going to be printing this one out tomorrow....
I'm printing a ton of copies of these little note cards, and I'll be pasting them in my dnd journal. I've only got 15 sessions worth of notes to catch up on...
woke: midsommar is a horror movie about a manipulative cult
bespoke: midsommar is a litmus test to tell how easily you could be indoctrinated into a cult and if your first thought after watching it is that it was a girl power movie youâre very susceptible to cult tactics and you should be aware of that
itâs also a commentary on the cultlike structure of white supremacy and white supremacist indoctrination, especially through their use of Nordic neopaganism
to prefaceâari aster is a Jewish man. heâs writing this story from someone directly affected by white supremacy (and if one doubts this: feel free to look at the white supremacist response to the film! it wasnât positive)
anyway, the hĂĽrga are canonically neo-pagan white supremacists. ari aster has pointed this out in interviews explicitly, but if one pays attention and is familiar with white supremacy, it becomes painfully obvious.
many of the runes used commonly used among white supremacists.
the odal especially is seen throughout the film, down to the tables they sit at being arranged in an odal. this rune is used constantly by white supremacists to denote a love of White Heritage. whatâs especially interesting about the use of the Odal is thisâthe particular way itâs drawn on many tapestries has the inclusion of âwingsâ or lines on the ends. The odal is most commonly drawn without these wings in modern usageâŚ.except, of course, used in the context of white supremacy. the odal with wings was the insignia of the 7th SS Volunteer Mountain Division Prinz Eugen, and is still commonly used by neo Nazi groups today.
their leader, an old white woman who snarls about The Black One, wears the ansuz, despite them not seeming to worship Odinâthis is, of course, another symbol used by white supremacists (hell, thereâs a hate group that has a prominent presence in Sweden but exists worldwide calls the Soldiers of Odin). the inclusion of The Secret Nazi Language of the Uthark in the set at the beginning of the movie makes it clear this was intentional
also, thereâs not a lot of evidence for the âage old ritualsâ they use (the ättestupa and blood eagle) actually existingâthe idea of them though? absolutely relished by many white supremacists.
just getting into the rest of the movieâthe colors are blindingly white, bright, and the characters of color stand out clearly against it. josh, who is the more obviously respectful and dedicated academic, is deliberately passed over in favor of Christian by the harga for information for their dissertations, and Christian outright rips off his topic. they kill the white characters for disrespecting the cultâs heritageâbut kill the characters of color to show their devotion.
the movie is a MASTERFUL commentary on how white supremacists grow their numbersâthey donât start out with swastikas and genocide. they start out with a kind word, with a promise of understanding, of community.
âi lost my parents tooâ pele tells dani. he draws for her, he wishes her a happy birthday. the women dance with Dani, dress her up, comfort her. the cult makes her the may queen. she feels safe with them. she feels comforted, wanted. has an emotional bond with them, even as they slowly isolate her, and prime her to believe what they do.
as a Jewish person myselfâthis was all intentional. the horror for me isnât just the cult. itâs that this happens every day, and more often than people would think. the horror is in the knowledge that this is how people are radicalized to scream âJews will not replace usâ, or shoot up a synagogue.
anyway. hereâs a couple articles from POC what also talk about this.
Today I found out that yarners think crocheting socks is subversive and controversial and I justâŚon one hand, why the fuck not, I guess yarners are allowed to have their controversies, but on the other, how much time do you have in your FUCKIN DAY??
My main concern is how they would feel but Maggie u know yarn fandom gotta think about something while knitting five miles of stockingnette for a sweater
I mean, Iâm taking this on good faith, and Iâm not saying this is my own personal belief. I believe in all crafts.Â
ButâŚthe structure of the stitches and the resulting fabric is pretty different between crochet and knitting. You get different effects between them, which lends themselves to different crafts. And none of the effects of (most) crochet stitches lend themselves naturally to socks. Youâre (usually) going to end up with something either stiff and bulky, or full of holes that will Not Feel Good to walk on. Whereas knitted socks will justâŚBE elastic and comfortable.
Sure you CAN do it. And there are people and patterns that do it well!!
But MOST crochet socks are a bit like calling this a bicycle
I mean⌠Okay? But people are going to Talk.
But this is BABY controversy, this is nothing. You havenât even touched on the good shit like RHSS or that time the Olympic Committee dissed us.
Iiiinteresting. So one of those âjust because you CAN doesnât mean you SHOULDâ things.
Also I know very little about the yarn fandom except for that bit where a woman had to fake her death and had a nervous breakdown over selling homespun/dyed yarn so like, I already have big expectations.
From what I know of the narrative as it was described to me, I want to say the one that overdosed, but I am intrigued and vaguely concerned that there are multiple distinct individuals the above situation could apply to.
the fake deaths thing: indie yarn dyer gets popular, gets overwhelmed by orders, canât refund money because of shitty bookkeeping, decides faking online death is the only way out.
iâm sure some of them are unintentional rather than premeditated scammers but theyâre all still thieving assholes who shouldnât be running businesses and need to give all the money back.
the olympics commitee: ravelry, well-known knitting (fiber arts in general) site, held a contest they called the âravelympicsâ to drum up olympic support then get a cease-and-desist letter for copyright infringement, and the letter said that calling it that âdenigrates the true nature of the Olympic Gamesâ and was âdisrespectful to our countryâs finest athletesâ
except, you know, ravelry had like 2 million users who all, by nature of ravelry being a website, have basic tech literacy. the social media backlash was so bad that the olympics board had to make 2 official apologies because the first wasnât good enough.
RHSS: Red Heart Super Saver is cheap Walmart-level yarn. some people hate it because it used to be just really fucking awful and they havenât bothered updating their opinions. some people hate it because they hate non-natural yarns. some people hate it because theyâre yarn snobs(which, btw, comes in two flavors: the disdainful assholes and the people who just donât see the point if you have the money and donât indulge yourself). a lot of people defend it because itâs cheap and widely locally available and honestly not that bad after a wash and some fabric softener.
crocheted socks: exactly what kaitoukitty said. people who crochet socks tend to either be new crocheters who are not aware crochet is not the best medium for socks or experienced crocheters who are pushing the boundaries of the medium.
babies on fire: i canât believe weâre talking about yarncraft controversies and no one mentioned babies on fire. thatâs my favorite controversy.
so when deciding what material to make baby blankets out of, in addition to considerations like softness, ease of washing, and allergy concerns quite a lot of people like to consider what would happen to the baby if the blanket was set on fire. yes, really.
wool has the problem of hand-wash only blankets for a new mother (superwash wool exists but thatâs a whole ânother paragraph), allergy concerns, and also real fucking expensive if you want quality not-itchy-on-baby-skin wool. but pro-wool-blanket people insist that because wool actually resists being set on fire pretty well and also can self-extinguish, itâs the only sensible choice.
acrylic on the other hand is cheap and you can throw it in the washing machine, and while bad quality acrylics might be stiff and plastic-y theyâre not itchy, but if it gets set on fire it will melt onto the babyâs skin. pro-acrylic people insist that if your blanket is on fire, you probably have bigger problems than what the blanket is made of.
Another woman utterly failed by our societyâs devaluation of womenâs reproductive health. We canât wait around for male doctors to decide what we need to know. This is why we need to take control and educate ourselves about our own bodies.
and hereâs some comments i saw under the post. why is this a pattern?? why is this a recurring theme?? why is this information not common knowledge? what the fuck are doctors doing??
Gross tmi: but i passed a pretty big clot after having my daughter. It was about the size of a baseball. It actually hurt worse because while 15 hours of labor opened my cervix, i passed the clot in 30 minutes. I knew it was a possibility because of my midwife and reading, but everyone Ive told after this (mostly other pregnant women) were shocked that this could happen.
In our culture, itâs much more common to do deep research about what family cars we want to buy than we do about childbirth when we âre pregnant.
Tmi: I passed a huge clot after birth in the bathroom of my hospital room and called the nurse sobbing because I didnât know it was normal. She treated me like an idiot, but NO ONE told me it was a possibility. And the pain associated with healing for the first couple of weeks after birth was worse than the labor imo. Again, I had no idea. They didnât tell me a thing besides âsitz bath regularly and change your pads.â Before discharging me from the hospital.
I was most definitely told about this in school. Fucking hell, 4-6 weeks of bleeding? My periods were/are bad enough, why the hell donât we get told this?
Bleeding is inevitable after birth - your uterine wall is shedding a fuck ton of lining. It can last from three to six weeks (possible longer) and it tapers off.
More TMI - I passed a MASSIVE clot after my fourth birth. At this point I already knew this could happen - itâs normal. What I DIDNâT know, was that I had caused it.
My post birth contractions were so bad after the birth that it felt like full transition labor. And they donât give you anything for the pain. So I used a hot water bottle, without the nurses knowing, and it caused me to bleed even more. I lost so much blood that by the first time they sat me up to go to the bathroom, I fainted. It took three more tries until I could sit up.
Anyway, thatâs not the point. The point is, the next morning I passed a clot the SIZE OF ANOTHER PLACENTA I KID YOU NOT, and I know what is and is not normal. So I called for the nurse and through the door told her I had passed a huge clot, and her response was - âItâs not big. I know what big is.â She hadnât even looked. So I rolled my eyes and said, âYeah, no. Itâs big, Iâm telling you.â
So, sounding extremely put upon, she asked me to open the door. I did, and after a long pause she goes, âOkay, yeah, thatâs a little big.â
YOU DONâT SAY.
The point Iâm trying to get across is that this shit is so common - women not knowing this stuff is so expected, and it keeps getting reinforced. People donât expect you to know anything, donât teach you anything, and then make you feel like youâre totally ignorant and a burden for your lack of knowledge when THEY WONâT SHARE.
Fucking learn EVERYTHING you can when it comes to childbirth, girls. It is the single most empowering thing you can do for yourself. And if you missed something, thatâs okay. But the more knowledge you arm yourself with, the more in control of your situation youâll be.
A few post partum tips:
DONâT use a hot water bottle - lol.
ONLY pads - NO tampons. Tampons can cause severe infection, not to mention, you probably donât want to be shoving anything up there any time soon.
If youâve had stitches, sitz baths DO help relieve the pain. Another great pain reliever? Dampen some pads and freeze them. Let one thaw slightly and use it on top of another pad. This will help with the pain as well as reduce swelling. Change the pad out as soon as itâs thawed completely. This REALLY helps on the first couple days after giving birth.
If you pass a clot, donât sweat it. Even the one I passed, which was fucking massive, just required that we keep an eye out to make sure it didnât happen again. If it does, talk to your doctor.
Take a pain killer half an hour before nursing. Because YES - your uterus is contracting after you give birth, to get back to its original size, and nursing causes much stronger contractions. Taking nursing-safe painkillers wonât prevent the pain, but it will reduce it.Â
Buy disposable underwear for the first few days after birth. They will get VERY dirty. Or use your ratty old pairs that youâre ready to get rid of. Double up on pads - line them all the way up your ass-crack. I am so serious. And wear dark pants.
Pee in the shower. You do NOT want to wipe down there right after birth because ow. Peeing in the shower lets you just rinse afterwards. Especially if youâve had stitches, peeing in the shower, with the shower-head rinsing AS you go, keeps stinging to a minimum. And fuck everyone else - keep on peeing in the shower until you feel ready to move back to toilet paper. Middle of the night and need to pee? Get your pants off - get in the shower and just go.
This is just a few things, but PLEASE feel free to send me an ask if you have any questions about ANYTHING childbirth/pregnancy/nursing related. I have four incredible kids. Iâve done it all - c-section, vacuume birth, episiotimy, stitches, with an epidural, without an epidural. Iâm here.
I feel like no one tells women this stuff because if a woman was even a little on the fence about having a baby before this would kinda make them run for the damn hills.
peri bottles, witch hazel or anti-pain anticeptic spray are your friends.
Also passing large clots after birth is a WARNING SIGN. Bigger than a half dollar is a sign that you have not passed your entire placenta (this is most common in hospital vaginal births where the mother is not allowed to naturally birth the placenta and instead has it ripped out by the doctor) if there is any placenta left in your uterus you can get extremely ill. This happened to both myself and my mother in law
WOW I didnât know any of this and Iâm terrified of what more Iâm unaware of about my own body :( Honestly when will we fucking abolish this taboo about the female bodyâŚ
I had pretty great sex ed in school (lots of contraceptive information, and totally acknowledged that teenagers might have sex) and all of this is news to me.
And, as a 28-year-old person with a uterus, Iâm extremely appalled Iâm just learning this.
Long, but very important information, even for those who donât plan to have children, because you will almost certainly know someone who will, and you might be able to to help them. Or at least increase your level of empathy for them.
people loooove to make out like pregnancy and childbirth are this beautiful thing that a womanâs body is made to do, and leave out all this incredibly important and scary info.
the healthcare system fails women in so so many ways, especially around sexual and reproductive health, and it needs to stop.
More TMI but no one told me what pregnancy discharge was and it was horrible. Like itâs a greater quantity of liquid coming out of you than on the heaviest day of your period. Sometimes I would stand up and a bunch would just run out of me. I was so scared and unprepared. Also, tampons are a VERY bad idea when your cervix is still dialated.
Friendly reminder to wait at least one hour after you eat or drink to do anything that requires you to bend at the waist after giving birth because you can and will just puke by accident since your cardiac sphincter will probably never be the same
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