![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ANOTHER thing I don’t like about impending apocalypse/ongoing pandemic — my students ask me, a nominal adult, what I think will happen and if we’ll ever fix things. Like fuck if I know! Nothing in my life or education prepared me for this! Most of my kiddos are in diplomatic families, so they probably hear more than I do. I’ve got Twitter and the work group chat.
For real, though, I have to be honest and tell them I don’t know. I try to be reassuring without making shit up. I do think we are all physically safe where we are right now, aside from the usual dangers of living. Like the family of one of our former students was in a horrible car accident at Christmas — the father was killed, mother was seriously injured, little kid hurt and then got covid. One of my coworkers/friends lost her sister this week. Individual tragedies are always possible. Which is why the “leaders” in this fucking world just need to measure their damn dicks and get that out of the way so we can get on with the ordinary business of living!
ANYWAY. I had cheesecake for breakfast and it’s properly sunny out today. It’s still too cold to be out for any great length of time, but I think I’ll walk over to the noodle place for lunch. It’s the place with the “Korean” BBQ. It’s really East Asian fusion, but it’s tasty. And here is a snippet of the CQL-Espionage AU I’m working on. I hope to start publishing it in the next week or so. I’m almost finished with the ending, and I’ve learned the hard way not to start publishing WIPs without a firm plan for the ending in mind. Here’s a little bit with my son Jiang Cheng. He’s not the MC for this fic, but of course he’s there!
When Jiang Cheng joins Wei Ying a minute later, his expression is stormy, but no worse than usual, but he doesn’t shrug off Wei Ying’s hand on his shoulder.
“A-Cheng, if you want to stay, I can—“
“Don’t be an idiot,” Jiang Cheng cuts him off. “We’ve wasted enough time.”
They don’t speak again until they’re safely buckled into the nondescript gray sedan Jiang Cheng favors for this sort of job, with Lanling long faded from their rearview mirror. It’s only because he knows what to look for that Wei Ying sees the tension in Jiang Cheng’s shoulders and the anxiety in his eyes as he tracks their progress south.
“You haven’t asked me where I need to go,” Wei Ying says conversationally. He paws through the plastic bag, which turned out to hold a few lukewarm steamed buns and a couple packets of various meats on skewers, and hands a bun to Jiang Cheng.
For real, though, I have to be honest and tell them I don’t know. I try to be reassuring without making shit up. I do think we are all physically safe where we are right now, aside from the usual dangers of living. Like the family of one of our former students was in a horrible car accident at Christmas — the father was killed, mother was seriously injured, little kid hurt and then got covid. One of my coworkers/friends lost her sister this week. Individual tragedies are always possible. Which is why the “leaders” in this fucking world just need to measure their damn dicks and get that out of the way so we can get on with the ordinary business of living!
ANYWAY. I had cheesecake for breakfast and it’s properly sunny out today. It’s still too cold to be out for any great length of time, but I think I’ll walk over to the noodle place for lunch. It’s the place with the “Korean” BBQ. It’s really East Asian fusion, but it’s tasty. And here is a snippet of the CQL-Espionage AU I’m working on. I hope to start publishing it in the next week or so. I’m almost finished with the ending, and I’ve learned the hard way not to start publishing WIPs without a firm plan for the ending in mind. Here’s a little bit with my son Jiang Cheng. He’s not the MC for this fic, but of course he’s there!
When Jiang Cheng joins Wei Ying a minute later, his expression is stormy, but no worse than usual, but he doesn’t shrug off Wei Ying’s hand on his shoulder.
“A-Cheng, if you want to stay, I can—“
“Don’t be an idiot,” Jiang Cheng cuts him off. “We’ve wasted enough time.”
They don’t speak again until they’re safely buckled into the nondescript gray sedan Jiang Cheng favors for this sort of job, with Lanling long faded from their rearview mirror. It’s only because he knows what to look for that Wei Ying sees the tension in Jiang Cheng’s shoulders and the anxiety in his eyes as he tracks their progress south.
“You haven’t asked me where I need to go,” Wei Ying says conversationally. He paws through the plastic bag, which turned out to hold a few lukewarm steamed buns and a couple packets of various meats on skewers, and hands a bun to Jiang Cheng.
