#like actually i think the solution is to stop raising children in these little isolated pockets fully reliant on 1-2 adults max

[calypsolemon]

thinking about how the expectation that parents must be completely selfless and fully willing to make sacrifices to their own quality and fullness of life in order to be good parents is actually a deeply capitalistic one, and how much it sucks that conversations surrounding parental abuse/ neglect often buy fully into this notion that a parent being unable to cope with such an inhumane lifestyle is an individual failing rather than a systemic one.

[transmalewife]

Alright, let's talk about attachment

I can’t find clear information on when exactly the non-attachment rule was added to the code. It was either soon before or soon after the great sith war. Either way, for the VAST majority of the existence of the Jedi, it wasn’t a thing. Jedi got married and had families for over 20000 years, then added the non-attachment rule, which ultimately led to their destruction. And before anyone tries to tell me I believe they deserved to be genocided, I don’t. I have never actually seen anyone say that, but I see people argue against it constantly, and imply anyone who doesn’t think the Jedi were perfect and blameless thinks that. I don’t think they deserved to die, I think they needed to change. And Yoda says that himself, many times. The Jedi weren’t prepared for the return of the sith, or the war. They had separated from the military 1000 years before, and the galaxy was in relative peace all this time, so the order’s role changed to one that worked very well with their rules. Detachment meant they could be impartial when overseeing political disagreements, lack of possessions meant they would be focused on the mission at hand and not prone to taking bribes, and distancing themselves from the general population meant they were more or less uniform, and could be trusted not to side with someone for personal reasons.

All of this falls apart once they become an army again. Impartiality is a flaw when they have to defend one side at all cost and not even allow themselves to consider compromise. Lack of possessions and attachment to people means they are prone to taking unnecessary risks, because they have nothing to lose, and do things like send 14 year olds into battle, thinking of the “greater good” over the safety of children. And the order being a monolith, with set rules and philosophy distinct from the rest of the population meant the Jedi trusted Dooku long after they should have stopped, because he used to be a Jedi after all, surely he still follows the code.

Now, I am not saying non-attachment is always bad, I think it served a very specific purpose in the order, and to some extent worked for many years. However.

Humans are a social species. Human babies NEED physical contact and affection to develop physically. Children need a stable, strong, and supportive relationship to their caregiver to properly develop psychologically. And after last year I don’t think anyone will argue that adults don't need connection with other people just as much. And not just shallow interactions, but open affection and love. Love of any kind, because claiming that the Jedi only forbid romantic love is just untrue. I think people tend to forget that "Compassion, which I would define as unconditional love, is essential to a Jedi's life. So you might say, that we are encouraged to love." isn’t the actual doctrine, it’s a literal pick up line that Anakin uses on Padme.

Ahsoka and Obi-Wan both get criticized by other Jedi for their entirely platonic attachment to Anakin, and vice versa. Now, humans are the most common species in the galaxy, and in the Jedi order. Many other species are near-human, so it’s safe to assume at least some, if not most of them also need that companionship and affection to develop and live happy and stable lives. I do believe that non-attachment is a valid philosophy and chosen path in life if done carefully and within reason, I just don’t think we have a single major character that actually applies to. And chosen is an important word here. Jedi don’t get much of a choice. I’m not trying to start the baby-stealing debate here. I hear the argument of ‘force sensitives are dangerous if left untrained, and said training should start as early as possible’. I think finding a way to deal with that problem was an insanely complicated decision, and taking children into the temple as young as possible is not a bad solution. I don’t entirely agree with not letting them see their families later, (especially since in legends Obi-Wan was allowed to visit his family, which implies Anakin couldn’t go free his mother specifically because he was already too attached), but the idea is sound. I do also understand that no one is forcing Jedi to stay in the order and they can leave for whatever reason at any time. But that isn’t exactly a free choice either. Leaving the order means leaving the only home you remember, the only people you know to make your own way in the galaxy, and staying with those people means you can never fully love them. It’s a difficult solution to a complicated question, and for the most part, it worked (not always, and not exactly as intended, but I’ll come back to that.) Children grew up in the order, were trained to control themselves and the force, and became Jedi who were impartial, patient, and balanced. But everything falls apart when you introduce someone who wasn’t raised in the temple.

In The Rising Force, 13 year old Obi-Wan had barely been off Coruscant in his life. He describes himself as sheltered and unaware of all the pain in the galaxy, and says it was done on purpose, so younglings wouldn’t have to face the dark side before they were ready for it. But Anakin had seen nothing but darkness, pain and injustice before he joined the order. He was severely traumatized, and while the temple might have had some ways of dealing with trauma and PTSD in adults, they had no experience in treating the same in a child, because their children were kept safe and protected. The idea of letting go of your pain and fear only works if you know you have a safe place to come back to, if you’ve spent the first decade or so of your life in the most protected place in the galaxy. Anakin spent the first decade of his life as a slave. He couldn’t let go of his fear, because fear was what kept him alive. Fear is not irrational if you are constantly in danger, it’s what protects you, keeps you aware of the limits you can push before you get punished. And that mindset doesn’t fade just because you’re out of that situation, especially if your only family, the closest person to you, is still facing that danger every day.

I’ve seen people use every excuse possible to explain why Anakin didn’t see his mother again to avoid blaming the council, including, and I shit you not, “He just didn’t have her comm number”. But to me that seems disingenuous, when we see in his first meeting with the council that they already consider him too attached. It's one of the main reasons they don’t want him to be trained, so it seems logical that they wouldn’t allow him to see her once he became a padawan. I also want to mention that what Yoda says, “Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering.” Is just… blatant catastrophizing. Right? Like we can all see that the escalation is not rational there at all. Maybe it could apply to something else, but not to a child who just left his mother for the first time in his life and went from a tiny dustball in the middle of nowhere to the most populated planet in the galaxy, and is now being tested by a bunch of old people with the power to decide his future. Obviously he’s afraid, and obviously he’s not dealing with it the way Jedi younglings do. That, in and of itself doesn't doom him to fall. Also what Yoda misses there is that suffering leads to fear. This is a closed loop, and one that has defined Anakin’s entire childhood.

Let’s come back to how the system doesn’t always work. The way I see it, most of the characters we see are attached. Obi-Wan is considered one of the greatest Jedi of his time. Windu describes him as “our most cunning and insightful Master—and our most tenacious”. And yet, he was not insightful enough to look past his love for Anakin, his attachment, and see how close to falling he was. Ahsoka was so attached to Anakin she refused to listen to Maul on Mandalore, refused to even consider the posibility he could fall. She was arguably the person with the best shot at preventing the empire forming at that point, and she loved anakin so much she doomed him and the entire galaxy. Aayla admitted to thinking of Quinlan as her father, and also, apparently in legends had a long relationship with Kit. Even Mace didn’t follow the code when he decided to kill Palpatine, which directly led to his death and the empire. He also indirectly caused the war to start. According to wookiepedia “Windu viewed Dooku as the shatterpoint of the entire Separatist movement, which meant striking Dooku down would theoretically end the imminent clone war before it even began. However, Windu's prior attachments to Dooku clouded his judgment.” I’m not even going to mention Kanan and Ezra, who are obviously family.

So basically everyone is attached and lying about it. How has no one thought that maybe this isn’t the healthiest way to live and tried to change the code? Well, I have a theory, and it’s Yoda. He was 900 years old when he died, and was on the council for the vast majority of his life. I can’t find when exactly he became grand master, but it’s safe to assume he held some degree of power over the entire order for most of a millennium. At the end of TPM he tells Obi-Wan “Confer on you the level of Jedi knight, the council does. But agree with your taking this boy as your padawan learner, I do not.” Then he reverses that decision by himself. So either he has the power to veto the council’s word, or who gets trained is entirely up to him. Either way, not great, considering his lifespan is so much longer than most Jedi, and therefore his approach to life is vastly different. Humans need love and closeness to live. However, while we don’t know much about Yoda’s species, it probably isn’t a social one. You could count all the characters of this species on two (human) hands, and Yoda lived in complete isolation for 20 years on Dagobah, and only went a little bit insane. They are naturally rare, and therefore probably lead solitary lives in nature. Moreover, Yoda outlived every master who trained him, and almost every padawan he trained himself, (there’s a great post about that here) so even if he wasn’t naturally predisposed to non-attachment, he would have had to learn it to deal with all the loss he had to live through over the years.

A lot of people think that Anakin fell because he had attachments, which is not true. He fell because of how his attachments played out and/or ended. The most obvious example being Palpatine, who used Anakin’s trust and friendship to groom him for over a decade and actively undermine Anakin’s trust towards anyone else, especially the order. (more on that here). Obi-Wan refused to take on the role of a father figure that Anakin tried to shove him into, so he turned to someone who did accept it. It’s not Anakin’s fault that it turned out to be the worst person alive, nor can we expect him to notice when he’s known Palpatine since he was a child. Another failure of jedi non-attachment, because a loving parent or guardian would not let their child be used as a bargaining chip when the most powerful politician in the galaxy blackmailed the order into allowing him to meet Anakin regularly, but a distant teacher and detached knight thinking of the greater good might. The other attachments Anakin had were taken from him (Shmi and Ahsoka, the last orchestrated by Palpatine who was fully ready to give her the death penalty to make Anakin more unstable), or he was forced to lie and hide them, compromising his vows as a Jedi (Padme) or refused to choose Anakin over the order/their principles (Obi-Wan, and again Ahsoka, and to some extent Padme, but he’d already fallen then). All these people had every right to make the choices they made, but it wasn’t the act of loving them that made Anakin turn to the dark side, it was how those attachments played out.

I think everyone agrees that Yoda is as detached as a Jedi should, if not can, be, and that didn’t prevent Dooku from falling. We see that explored in more detail with Barriss and Luminara. Luminara is detached and distant, she’s fond of Barriss, but their relationship is not familial in the slightest, and she repeatedly shows her willingness to put the greater good and the mission before Barriss’ safety and even life. And yet Barriss still falls. A complex combination of events and choices caused each of those characters to fall, not the simple presence or absence of attachment.

And lastly, just as attachment can make you unstable if your relationship with that person is unstable, it can also make you stronger. There is a reason Anakin and Obi-Wan were the face of the army. Not only did their obvious attachment (the strongest between two jedi we are shown) make them more relatable to the public, but they, when working as a team, are shown repeatedly to be more or less undefeatable. They spend half of aotc flinging themselves off great heights because they know the other will be there to catch them. They know from years of experience that they have backup and they know each other well enough (or force bond communicate) that they can trust the other will be where he needs to be to help/save them. Contrast that to how Windu and Palpatine fight in rots once the window breaks- very carefully, clearly holding back to keep themselves safe. Neither of them has backup until Anakin arrives, but until the last second they can't be sure which one he will choose. Anakin and Obi-Wan fight the same way on Mustafar, especially when balancing on that thin bridge. No acrobatics, swinging arms to keep balance, keeping their distance, being almost uncharacteristically careful compared to how they treated heights in aotc, in tcw, and on the invisible hand in rots, because they both know the other won't catch them if they fall this time.

[sergeant-donny-donowitz]

The Home That War Built (Parental!Aldo Raine)

Not an AldoxReader fic. Aldo becomes a parental figure to fem!reader, totally platonic

Crush between reader & Hirschberg is implied

Reader has a twin sister

Reader is Hans Landa's daughter

If any of these things make you uncomfortable, please do not read! ______________________

@owba-chan @war-obsessed @inglourious-imagines @tealaquinn @struggling-bee @frozenhuntress67 @kwyloz @sodapop182

Let me know if you wanna be added to the IB or OUATIH taglists! :)

Requested by @svonschroeder _____________________________

***1943*** The basterds stood in a line, somewhere in the middle of absolutely nowhere, in nazi-occupied France. They had a new mission. "Her name is Y/n Landa." Aldo stood with his hands at his hips, "The kid's German, Double agent, working secretly for the French Resistance." Aldo sighed, and looked at the basterds. Every once in a while, he'd be struck by the reminder that a few of them were young enough to still be in school. Hirschberg somehow tricked his way into the army at 16. Here they were... Aldo sometimes wondered how many kids like that were fighting in a world they couldn't even call home anymore. Sometimes it broke his heart... Still, he was Aldo the Apache. No one could know that. The only one who even knew that side of him was his wife, Maggie... He didn't even have the luxury of getting a letter from her, given the absolute secrecy of the basterds. "The French say the kid's gone missing. General says it's our job to find her. Nazis are definitely involved, you boys know what that means, dont'cha?" A few of the basterds started to smirk, ready to begin loading their guns and sharpening their knives. Donny was already eyeing his bat. 

It took some spying, some threatening, and a whole lot of nazi scalps to do it, but they did it. Another mission accomplished. "Holy shit...She's alive right?" Wicki muttered as he took your pulse, "If you could call it that." From the blood and the bruises, you had obviously escaped someone that had no intention of letting you escape. You mumbled, as you drifted in and out of consciousness. You saw the basterds standing over you. You didn't recognize them. And the fact that half of them were wearing nazi disguises... You gave up, looked past the faces and pleaded softly, "Tu ihr nicht weh ..." Hugo frowned a little, and he crouched by you, as Aldo asked, "What she say, boys?" Hugo ignored Aldo for a second, and asked, "Wer verletzt?" Wicki looked back at the basterds, "She said 'don't hurt her.' Hugo's asking who..." Your voice broke into a whisper as a tear streamed down your face, streaking through drying blood, "Emmeline." The basterds looked to Aldo, and he shook his head, "General didn't say nothin' 'bout no Emmeline..." He crouched down by Hugo and Wicki, and shook his head, wondering "What's the world done to you, kid?" Wicki looked over, "I don't think any bones are broken. I'm not sure about internal bleeding." Donny spoke up, "We left a fucking trail of dead nazis here. And a big one. We gotta move, lieutenant." Hirschberg peered out from behind Donny and Omar's shoulders and looked at you. Beneath the blood, there was a face, just about as young as him. A double agent, working on the side of justice, and there you were, half past death's door. A day passed, and when you woke up, you were in what appeared to be an abandoned hostel. You didn't remember anything after the moment you stumbled away from the nazis' grasp. When you saw unfamiliar faces, you tried to get up, but you just couldn't. "No, no, it's ok, kid! We ain't nazis." The man had a scar around his neck, and after hearing that accent, you had no doubt he was telling the truth. He said, "You might know us as the basterds. My name's Aldo." "The Apache?" You murmured, as the weary blurriness in your eyes gave way, and you looked at the rest of the faces. One by one, their names were etched into your memory. "Now," Aldo pulled a rusting, dusty chair by your side, "Tell us what you can. Who you was runnin' from, where they are, where you needa be goin'." "Please...They have my sister." Hirschberg set his gun down, and asked, "Emmeline?" 'Emmeline.' Now you remembered the moment the basterds found you. You nodded, "She's my twin." Donny looked to Aldo, "You sure general didn't say anything about a sister?" You shook your head, "She's not in France. Father keeps her locked up in Germany. She's been outspoken against everything father is from the moment we knew who he really was." "Your father, does he know about...this?" "That I'm a traitor? Undoubtedly by now." You grinned slightly with satisfaction, wondering what his reaction could have been. Aldo couldn't wrap his head around it. "Why did they hurt you? How did they find out?" "Well.... They still don't know I'm working with the resistance. They think it was an isolated incident." "What incident?" Donny asked what everyone was thinking. "I work in a science lab..." That was an understatement. You were a genius, and you were being exploited in the nazis' attempts to build a nuclear weapon. "I sabotaged a very important project, and destroyed the plans and data." You had a chemical burn on your forearm to prove it. "What kinda plan?" Aldo asked, genuinely curious. Whatever it was would definitely be of interest to the OSS. "A nuclear bomb." There was a heavy silence blanketing the room, and you said, "I set them back at least a year. Two or three if they don't find me. Even if they do, I'll do it again, even if it kills me." "What do you mean two or three if they don't find you?" Aldo asked, and Utivich nodded, "Yeah...what's so special they got to find you for that?" You sighed, and explained, "I don't just work there. I am the project... Everything that was in those plans, it's here." You raised your throbbing, bruised arm to your temple, "I sabotaged every step of the way, but this time, they were too close to solving the puzzle. I had to destroy all of it." "So they tried to kill you?" You nodded, "They didn't even report me to anyone. They got the guards to do it. But I got away..." "What happens if they find you?" "Nothing anymore. My father probably has worse things in store." "Father?" That struck Aldo, "You don't even call him...whatever the German word for dad is?" You scoffed, "Hans Landa is the last thing a father could ever be like." You shook your head, "The only reason why I pretended to go along with all this was because if I didn't, he would murder my sister," Your eyes lowered to the ground, and your voice shook with rage and sorrow, "He would murder Emmeline." In that moment, the basterds were outraged. Aldo, however, was speechless. His blood was boiling. His heart broke, wondering how a man could even think of killing his own child. How could a man blackmail one daughter for the life of the other? The answer was simple. That man had to be a nazi. These were some of the things that made Aldo wonder how cruel life could really be. For years and years, he and his wife would have given anything for even a chance of having a little one running around. And to see someone so horribly mistreat their own children? Aldo reckoned the only solution to that would be to have that man's scalp. Wicki changed some of your bandages, and checked again for signs of internal injuries. You answered a few more questions, and managed to eat a few bites, and then fell back asleep. The basterds filed out, and Hirschberg asked, "So what now?" Aldo shook his head, "Wait till we hear from the general again." And they did. It took a few days, but in that time, you softened the basterds' hearts. Even Hugo's. He shushed Smitty and Omar when they were being too loud and you were resting. Out of the basterds, Aldo was the most worried about you. Especially after he finally heard back from the general. "We gotta hand Y/n over to the resistance." Hirschberg, who had spent the most time with you, was the most intrigued with you. It was nice to talk to someone just about his age, who wasn't a total basterd. Besides, it wasn't everyday he met a bonafide genius. He just liked talking with you. And he was going to miss you... Which prompted him to answer with a more agressive tone than he meant, "What do they want with her?!" Aldo sighed, "They're sending Y/n back to the nazis." Donny didn't even bat an eyelash, "Oh so it's a suicide mission. Isn't that just dandy?" Hugo nodded, being fully acquainted with the ways that nazis met traitors, he wasted no time in telling the truth. "He's right. They'll kill her." Aldo shook his head. If he knew the nazis would kill you, he would never have agreed to the terms. "The resistance has a man on the inside. He says the nazis that hurt y/n were executed on her father's orders. Says her old man's got some power," He looked around, then said, " 'parently he's called in favors, and got Y/n off the hook. Passing it all off as some teenage rebellion. Resistance needs Y/n to stay as an informant, and are gon’ give her back to the nazis. Her father's sending for her, back to Germany." You were standing by the doorway. It was the first time you managed to get up. "He will lock me up. Away from Emmeline. Away from anyone and everything that I truly know or care for." You sighed, and said, "That is, until the scientists start falling too far behind in their plans. They will send for me again in time. And I will do all over again."

Aldo looked at you, and his heart stopped thinking about all the things they would do if you were caught again. Would they sentence you to die by a firing squad? Would they just torture you and hide you away until there was nothing left to do? Would your father actually kill Emmeline just to get to you? "Look kid...when you get home. Deny it. Deny everything your dad says he knows. You don't tell 'em you were with no resistance, and you ain't gon' tell 'em 'bout us. Even if he knows everything that you know, don't say nothin'." You smirked, "I know." Something about that smirk was heartbreaking. It was a telltale sign that you'd played these games before.

**** Days passed, and you all waited in the hideout until someone from the French resistance contacted the basterds. You were leaving the next morning. Hirschberg was sitting with you as you both talked about nothing. Aldo walked in, and you and Hirschberg smiled at each other, and then looked away. Aldo came to say goodbye. His heart hurt because every step was decided by the resistance, There was no mother worrying about you, and no father to know best. Different governments were using you, a kid, as a pawn against each other. Aldo wouldn't be surprised if it got you killed some day... But there was nothing more he could do.

Hirschberg left, after hearing Omar and Donny beginning to argue about baseball again. Aldo stayed with you. He was more of a boxing type of guy anyway. You were both silent for a while, then you shook your head, "What if I crack...What if I am just a coward..." "No you ain't. You're just a kid goddamnit." He looked at you, and you saw something in his eyes you never saw in those of your father: Worry. "When you go tomorrow, you promise me you gon' stay safe." He handed something over to you. It was his knife. He wrapped your fingers around the knife's handle, "You gon' stay safe..." "They won't kill me, Aldo. I know too much." That was what Aldo was worried about... But he smiled softly, and started heading to the door. "Get some sleep, kid."

"Goodnight!" He smiled again, "Goodnight, kid..." You didn't sleep. You looked at the ceiling, wondering what would happen...  Before you knew it, it was morning. The basterds and double agents were hiding around as the exchange was made. Resistance fighters posing as nazis handed you over to real nazis, one of which you recognized as Dieter Hellstrom. He gripped you by the back of your shirt, and muttered "Du warst zum letzten Mal ein Schmerz im Arsch, Y/n." "You've been a pain in my ass for the last time Y/n." You looked at the car window, and saw a face that could have been your reflection looking back. "Emmeline..." Your voice almost broke in tears and laughter of joy, but she did not reciprocate. She shook her head softly. Her cheeks were stained with tears. Dieter swung the door open. You felt the cool press of his luger behind your neck as her shoved you into the car, "Keine Spiele." "No games." Before Dieter climbed in, Emmeline whispered in desparation and guilt, "Du hättest nicht zurückkommen sollen. Du warst frei..." "You shouldn't have come back. You were free." ***ONE YEAR LATER***

That car drive was the last time you saw Emmeline for a year. She was locked again in the empty old house surrounded by cold loneliness, deprived of ink, and any lose pieces of paper.

Her ideas and her words were too dangerous to find their way to the allies. You were sent away to a laboratory in Munich, where you did your best to set them back, though you did not have any reliable contacts to pass all the information on to. One year passed, and you were brought back to France. You were put in an empty room, with two evening gowns you could only have imagined seeing on the likes of someone like Bridget von Hammersmarck. There was a box of jewelry that belong to the mother you never knew. And there was Emmeline. You threw your arms around each other, sobbing, and trying to find words to even begin, but a guard beat his gun against the door, and barked orders for you to be silent and get dressed. Your father had appearances to keep up. What for, you wouldn't know until you arrived at a small cinema named Le Gamaar. You understood now, recognizing all the biggest faces in the high command. Of course they'd be expecting to see Hans Landa's brilliant daughters: The ever profound writer Emmeline, and the mathematical prodigy Y/n. An unstoppable duo... Your father knew that, so the moment you arrived at the cinema, he made sure you were separated. The more seconds passed, and the more nazis you recognized, the more hope you lost. With every moment that passed, the end of the war seemed further and further away. The outcome appeared bleaker and bleaker with every poster of Stolz der Nation that you saw. It was then that you spotted something that made your heart beat again. Sergeant Donny Donowitz and Private Omar Ulmer were heading into the theater. You quickly looked around, and saw Lieutenant Aldo Raine in a flashy white suit. You couldn't help but grin, knowing he was definitely up to something... And... Apparently so was Frau von Hammersmarck? You were shocked, but...then who wouldn't be? Still, you knew there had to be a bigger meaning behind it all, and bounded down the steps. Suddenly you saw your father speaking to Aldo, and pulling Bridget von Hammersmarck away. Your heart stopped...you knew the look in your father's cold, cruel eyes. It was the same look when he solved any case he was given, or when he learned the truth about you or your sister. It was that look: Impressed that you'd made it so far, and somehow, so accusive. He knew everything. He'd known all along. The moment he disappeared with Frau von Hammersmarck, you rushed to Aldo as quickly as you could without kicking up any unecessary attention. You spoke in a long thread of words, wihtout taking a breath, trying to explain it all at once. Aldo raised his eyebrow, trying to keep it all underwraps, "Hey, hey it's alright kid. It's all gonna be alright." "You don't understand! Y-" He was afraid if anyone heard either of you spoeaking in English, the plan would be ruined. "Come on," He led you outside, to an alley, where Smitty and Hirschberg were hiding out. "I need you to go, Y/n. Take your sister, and go. Run away." Smitty shook his head, "They won't get far, Aldo. Someone's going to notice." "I'm not letting Y/n and Emmeline stay in there. They deserve a chance to get away." "Even if they ran away, and a nazi saw them, he'd bring them back here to their dad." Hirschberg spoke up, "I'll go with them." Aldo looked at Hirschberg, his youngest soldier, and a damn good basterd. So much so, he not only lied about his age to join the military, but he was so good at it, he even convinced the OSS years ago, If any of the basterds could keep you safe, it was Hirschberg. Aldo looked at you, and knew you and Emmeline deserved a chance. "I'm goin' back inside before Landa realizes I'm gone. Utivich, stick to the plan, and cover for Hirschberg. Son, you and Y/n find Emmeline, and get the hell outta here, you understand?" Hirschberg saluted Aldo, understanding the implications of Operation Kino, and knowing it may be the last time he saw any of the basterds, "Yes, sir." He and Utivich hugged, after being the closest thing to brothers they had, and went their ways. You looked at Aldo, and  spoke softly, "Thank you, Aldo." He chuckled, and told you what he told you a year ago, "You promise me you gon' stay safe." Last time, you had leverage, and could not be killed. Now, there was a kill on sight order if you were spotted anywhere but in Le Gamaar.  You lied to Aldo, to keep him assured, "They won't kill me, Aldo. I know too much." He smiled softly, and looked at the sky. For a moment, he wasn't in France, he was back in Maynardville, Tennessee, looking back up at that same sky with his wife, Maggie. Aldo would've killed to have a daughter like you and Emmeline, and spend his life with that kid and his wife back in Tennessee, but life was cruel and absurd that way... He shook his head, and for a moment, you could have sworn you saw a glimmer in his eyes, like that of a tear as he said, "Goodnight, kid." You all went you ways, and you snuck Hirschberg into the theater. As the two of you glided through the crowds that were heading into the theater, he slipped his hand into yours. You glanced back, and saw that  a guard was looking at you. You smiled at the guard, and he smiled back, and quickly looked away. Hirschberg smirked at you, and the two of you rushed up the stairs. He blushed as he quickly tried to explain himself, "....It's more convincing this way." You smiled, "I suppose so..." You looked at each other for a moment, smiling as if you'd just fooled the world. Just then you spotted your father leaving a room that was off to the side. "There!" As soon as the coast was clear, you and Hirschberg hurried to the room. You froze for a moment, seeing Bridget von Hammersmarck laying dead, in the middle of the floor. What's more, there was a nazi, aiming a gun at Emmeline. Emmeline was looking right at him, not even fazed. Just waiting. Landa wouldn't even do his own dirty work. You knew he wouldn't. But you wouldn't let anyone else hurt her. You disarmed the nazi, and shot him dead on the spot before Hirschberg could even get a step in. "Who taught you that?" You smirked, "A lady never tells." Emmeline looked up at you, as you pulled her out of the room. She smiled, "Better late than never, is that what people say?" Hirschberg glanced at you, though you didn't notice, as he smiled and nodded, "Yeah, better late than never..." ***Meanwhile*** Hans landa was sitting across from Aldo and Utivich "Well, let's just say she got what she deserved. And when you purchase friends like Bridget von Hammersmarck...you get what you pay for." "What'd you to to 'em kids, huh?" Aldo was glaring at Landa. He cackled, "Kids these days..." He held up a framed photograph that was on the edge of his desk. He was quite a few years younger in the picture, and standing with a woman, presumably his wife. There were two baby girls about a year old, wearing identical clothes, and bows in their hair, held by their mother. Landa smiled out of cynicism as he showed them the picture, "Just like their mother, those girls." He shook his head with a sigh, "If only they'd taken after me." He looked up with a grin, "It's not so easy to get rid of two of them... Especially when they're so well known." "What do you mean..." Smitty fell into the web of intrigue that Landa was weaving. Landa shrugged, "Well...Marie... My beautiful Marie," He sighed, as if in longing, as his fingertips traced the portrait of the woman. "She was brilliant," His expression changed. He gritted his teeth, and practically spat, "Too brilliant. And too empathetic." He shook his head, "I suppose, that's where Emmeline and Y/n get it from." He cackled again, "It's not so difficult to convince the world that an emotional, sweet, kind-hearted, lovely little thing like my dear Marie would just..." He snapped his fingers harshly, "Under the pressure of two babies, and after some post-partum depression? It wasn't so hard to convince everyone she fell into a pit of psychosis, and delusion as I was away, working long hours for a revolutionary political campaign." Aldo and Utivich could not believe what they were hearing. Hans Landa murdered his own wife because she knew of his early involvement with the nazi party. He sighed in lament, his thumb grazing over the old photograph, "And when she ran away with meine kleinen Lieblinge, my two little girls...She jumped into the Rhine in a delusional episode." He shook his head, and tsked “Tragic, really,” He looked up at the two basterds with a sly, telling smirk, "You drowned her?" Smitty shook his head, spoke quietly in disbelief. Hans smiled in acknowledgment, but went on with the tale that convinced even the most astute at the time of the murder, "She jumped...I couldn't stop her, my Marie." He sighed as he tapped his finger lightly over the two babies in the picture, "Fortunately, I was able to swim out and save meine kleinen Lieblinge..." He sighed, "But they choose not to save their poor papa's heart now." Even with his charade, his hands shook in fury, and he slammed the frame down on the desk. The glass shattered, and he went on, "So you see, Aldo. It is far more difficult to convince the world that two young, brilliant girls like Emmeline and Y/n have simply gone mad, and drowned in the Rhine. All these years, I've had to fabricate plans to keep them in line." He scoffed, "I suppose that's the price of being a single father, isn't it?" He stood up, and shrugged "But I know when I'm beat, lieutenant. And if I come to stand before a tribunal, the first thing they would have been told was that I murdered my daughters. Instant death sentence. Even if I did come to make a deal with your general. Correct?" Aldo didn't know exactly how to play the game, so he just followed along, "I suppose so..." "But! If...per se...Emmeline and Y/n burned with al the other nazis, that's how they will be remembered by the world. As nazis. Killed in the OSS' plot against the nazi regime, without an ounce of guilt in my conscience." Utivich spat, "You're a monster." "Oh please, Private Utivich. We all have appearances to keep." All the while, you, Emmeline, and young private Hirschberg were lurking around outside of the building. "We can get access into the building, just play along." Emmeline pulled you and Hirschberg in through the front doors. "Isn't Y/n like...your dad's number one enemy?" You rolled your eyes, "Oh please, he's had me reduced to a bratty teen with a rebellious streak in order for him to save face." "Sh," Emmeline turned and you were both silent. She greeted a few guards. The guards, like every other nazi stationed in Paris, were ordered to kill you and Emmeline if you were spotted outside of the cinema, but...you both carried yourselves with such confidence, and looked so innocent, the guards wondered if there was a change in orders, and let you on your way. She ordered the guards to clear away, citing a need to speak to her father urgently. The three of you stood outside the door, listening in as Landa and Aldo struck a deal with the brass. You all heard Aldo conclude the deal, "Yes sir..." Then, he, Utivich, and Landa were uncomfortably silent for a moment. Aldo played dumb, "So you're really willing to let the whole high command burn?" "I've made the deal, haven't I, Aldo?" Aldo really couldn't believe it. The will power that man needed to not strangle Landa in that moment was immeasurable. "That includes your own daughters?" Landa shrugged, "Sacrifices must be made for the greater good. Besides, they were always troublemakers." Utivich shook his head, "They're fucking heroes! Emmeline's been writing speeches and documents exposing Hitler, you, and everyone else in that theater! Y/n's been sabotaging scientists and-" "None of that matters, private Utivich." Landa smirked, knowing his plans had all come into place. "The world will know them only as former nazi's daughters, who burned at the premier of Nation's Pride. A writer and a scientist, burning along with the nazi high command. Now, how do you think history books will read that?" You and Emmeline glanced at each other outside the door, and nodded without a word. You both started to head back outside. Hirschberg shook his head, and whispered, "Hey! I'm not a twin, I don't know what you're fucking thinking!" You looked at Emmeline, "To the allied lines?" She nodded with a smirk, "To the allied lines." Hirschberg frowned, and looked between you and Emmeline a few times, "To the allied lines?!" *** Aldo was standing face to face with Hans Landa. Utivich was scalping Herman. "But I do have one question. When you get to your little place on Nantucket Island, I imagine you gon' taken off that handsome-lookin' SS uniform. Aint'cha?" Hans Landa, for once in his life, looked absolutely terrified.

"That's what I thought...Now that I can't abide." Aldo didn't realize Landa wasn't just terrified about what was to happen. "How about you Utivich? Can you abide it?" Utivich didn't look up, "Not one damn bit, sir." "I mean...if I had my way, you'd wear that uniform for the rest of your pecker-suckin' life..." It as then, that Aldo realize Landa wasn't looking at him. He was shaking, and sweating, and looked as though he'd seen a ghost. Two, in fact. Aldo looked back, and jumped a little, though...he was relieved, as he chuckled "Well I'll be damned..." Landa whispered, "Meine kleinen Lieblinge..." "Talk. Now." Emmeline muttered, standing by your side. He tilted his head, in disbelief, and tried to find some words. All he could say was "P-please...." Hirschberg leaned against a tree and chuckled, "You gonna have to try harder than that, colonel." Landa stuttered, "Ich bin dein Vater, nicht wahr?" "I'm your dad, aren't I?" You shook your head, as you raised a gun, "You are not." Landa shook his head in desparation, "No...no! Please!" He looked back at Aldo, begging, "I made a deal. You said so yourself! The OSS wants me alive." Emmeline tugged at your arm, "Y/n...put the gun down." You shook your head. She begged, "You are many things, Y/n...but you will not stoop down to his level. If you kill him, the OSS will go after you. That's what he wants..." You looked to Emmeline, and her face was stained with tears again, like the day she asked why you came back, when you were free. You looked at Landa, the man that could never be a true father. There were other ways to be free. You looked at Emmeline...You couldn't let anyone separate you from her again, even if it meant Landa got to walk away. "You wanted us to burn, and be remembered as something we are not." The gun clicked Emmeline turned to you, whispered a desparate "No!" But you were a step ahead of the game this time. You put the gun away, and stepped toward Aldo. You handed him his knife, which he'd given to you a year before. "But you will be known for what you really are." Landa looked at you, with wide, terrified eyes, "Y/n...liebling, no...don't do this..." Aldo smirked, "Thank you, kid..." He looked back at Landa, "I'm gon' give you a little sum' you can't take off."

You and Emmeline watched as Aldo and Smitty peered over his final, writhing, screaming, blood-stained masterpiece. Somewhere along the line, Hirschberg slipped his hand into yours... Both of you looked at each other, blushed, and turned away. ***ONE YEAR LATER*** The basterds were meeting up at Aldo's cabin, up in the Smoky Mountains. When they went their ways at the end of the war, they promised to meet up at least once a year. Wicki moved around a lot, but he made it. Hugo moved to a quiet, small town in the Pacific Northwest. Donny went back to Boston. The rest of the boys were scattered around the east coast...except for Hirschberg who moved to California for college, and was teasingly called a traitor. It had been a year, and Aldo and Maggie Raine were setting up for the party. Aldo insisted on having a big barbecue, as a call back to Le Gamaar. You and Emmeline helped set up. After the war, after everything you and Emmeline went through, Aldo took you both under his wing. Maggie was smiling, and Aldo asked, "Now what's all this 'bout darlin'?" She smiled, "Y/n is thinkin' of goin' back to school." "Back? Ain't much else they can teach the kid!" Aldo chuckled as he set up the grill, and Maggie shook her head, "No, she wants to be a science teacher." Aldo grinned, "Really?" He sighed, "That ain't so bad. She gon' get to go down to town every day, maybe get to know the people more. It'll be good for her." Maggie nodded, with a soft sigh and a smile. She loved you and Emmeline as if you were her own daughters, just as Aldo did. She worried about you two in the beginning, seeing how much you had gone through just to survive, and worried you wouldn't be able to adjust. But, time was beginning to help. Maggie saw you and Emmeline laughing together in the distance, as you arrived from the butcher shop in the town. "Lord knows they was scared half to death. Them babies deserve every moment of sunshine life has to offer 'em." Aldo nodded with a sigh, "I know darlin'. I know..." Maggie cleared her throat, "Y'know...Emmeline's been goin' down to Mr. Kronberg's malt shop a lot." "Well shit, Maggie. They got some damn good vanilla shakes there, I don't blame her. She likes the jukebox, too." He chuckled, remembering that was the first place he and Maggie showed you and Emmeline. Maggie nodded, "Uh-huh, well...she also likes Mr. Kronberg's boy, David." Aldo sighed, "They grow up so fast, don't they, Maggie?" She sighed, "I suppose they do..." He chuckled and gave her a kiss on the cheek, "Well, I better take 'em beers in to the ice box." He picked up a case, and started to walk inside, but slipped on a step. You called out, "Dad look out!" You and Emmeline ran over to help him up, while Maggie stood by with a teary smile. Aldo looked up at you and Emmeline. He didn't mind the broken bottles, "You called me dad..." He got up, smiling wider than you'd ever seen before, "You called me dad!" Just then, you heard a car pulling up in the front of the house, and familiar arguing encompassing slamming doors. Donny and Omar were still fighting about  baseball. ‘Some things don't change,’ Aldo sighed, and he looked at you and Emmeline, 'But some things do...' That was life. Things changed, before, during, and after the war. Now that it was all over, and he was back up his Smoky Mountains, back with the wife he loved so much, his cabin didn't change much while he was gone. But now, they had you and Emmeline. It was a little louder than it used to be, but life was beautiful again. Aldo smirked, "That Hirschberg I see?" "Where?!" Aldo chuckled,"A-ha! I knew it!" You were clearly flustered, after having denied there was anything between you and Hirschberg for a year. Aldo chuckled, "Well, now, kid...As your dad, now I have to embarass you." "You really don't." He smiled, as he opened the door, "Well...Them’s the rules." and he watched Hirschberg basically run the rest of the basterds down as he raced to the door. Aldo looked back at you, "You gon' tell me to look at that boy's face, and tell me I'm wrong?" Maggie rolled her eyes as she and Aldo wrapped their arms around each other. "Don't you go snoopin' around them kid's lives, now." "I won't, I won't! Not all the time..." You and Emmeline laughed, and you all went outside to meet with the basterds. As you and Hirschberg looked at each other with quiet smiles, and blushes, you knew that didn't change. But when you looked back at Aldo, you smiled, knowing sometimes, change was good. You looked at him, at Maggie, and at Emmeline. You had a home now, and nothing could change that.

[double--plus--good]

I Still Love You - A Zutara Fic, Chpt. 3

What? I��m still writing this nonsense? Duh.

Hope ya’ll like it! I’ve been busy with getting back to work and what not, I’m sorry if I’m late or messy!

Chapter 3

All around them were people laughing and dancing; music played loudly on every street and children were playing games for small prizes or treats. People bartered for beautiful pottery and silk robes and others were lined up for delicious smelling foods of a wide variety. It seemed as though everyone in town had come out for some fun as the team had some trouble maneuvering around the square without running into waves of people bustling through. The Fire Nation capital had become a much livelier place in six years and everyone stared in awe at the sight before them.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many people out at once here!” Exclaimed Aang, looking at every direction with enthused curiosity and awe. “The whole village must be here. There’s so much to do and see. It’s incredible!” The Avatar hopped around each corner they passed, looking into the kiosks and shops with excitement, pointing out various weapons and outfits and instruments he found fun or interesting. Sokka joined behind him, exclaiming everytime he found a new kind of sword or meat he wanted to try. One by one, each member of the group seemed to find a new item that caught their attention and they began to examine various stores for similar objects or foods.

Zuko made his place in a corner where he watched his friends all gawk and amuse themselves with the village’s offerings, smiling at their excitement and taking in the fun from a distance. He leaned against a wall with his arms crossed, laughing when Aang and Sokka would fool around and get chased out of weapon and clothing stores, forcing Suki to stop whatever she was doing to bail them out. He also watched in slight horror but also with some weird pride and amusement when Toph managed to buy out an entire food stand and actually finish everything they had offered.

Most people would think he was making judgement at his friends or sulking to himself while he was abandoned by his group but in reality, Zuko enjoyed watching his friends get into odd or rambunctious shenanigans. He loved to hear them laugh and seeing them dancing around, acting like fools. It brought him some sense of peace within, like they aren’t afraid to be who they are fully and he could be who he was with them. People often took his silence and distance as uncaring or self absorption and many people had difficulty approaching him at first whenever he’d roam outside of the castle. His appearance never helped either as people took his intense stare, closed body language, and muscular build as a sign of aggression. Add on top of it his passionate outbursts and quickness to irritation and he was someone most people tried to avoid as often as they could, but, his team always knew better and never maliciously made him feel like he was soulless or an untamable, destructive force. They allowed him to just be in the same way he does for them. They all balanced one another and brought each other new perspectives and peace of mind. Some, of course, more than others. And because of this and their interactions out in public, many of Zuko’s citizens started coming out more often to greet him in their city. They praised him often and reconstructed their roads and shops so that it was better suited for a lord to walk through.

People became less afraid to ask him questions and for favors when he came out and often offered him gifts when he found solutions or visited them. He always kindly declined which only heightened his popularity with the people. When he could, he’d help in construction or refurbishing and even assisted in their celebration preparations when he could. He was a devoted leader to his people and that was also why his birthday celebrations became bigger and bigger every year. But as the years went by, they saw less and less of him. No one ever took it as malicious or rude behavior but, just like his advisors, many people felt as though he was isolating himself in his work. So when he comes out for the celebrations, they make it a point to make it as grand as possible, hoping that he’d stay longer than the previous ones.

Today, many of the people bustling about only made short interactions with him. A few children had asked him to help them reach items in kiosks and a few grandmothers had asked for his help lifting things into their carts but the others merely bowed or waved happily, respecting his boundaries while he was with the saviors of their nation [as they called them]. It was a little surprising to him as he hadn’t been out in the last few months but he just assumed it was for the preparations. He didn’t mind it at all, though, and enjoyed the time he had to watch over his friends and city.

“So, are you going to just watch people and brood or are you going to at least join me in this shop so I can buy a new robe for the festivities this weekend?” Katara wrapped her arms around one of Zuko’s and smiled up at him. Zuko blinked slowly, snapping out of his gaze enough to look down at Katara and blushing slightly at her smile. She laughed some and pulled him swiftly into the small store that sat beside them before he had a chance to fully snap out of his daze or protest. “You’re a terrible liar so I know you’re going to tell me if I look good in something.”

Zuko followed as best as he could, raising his arm to deflect the clothes that were bashing against his face from above and tripping over loose articles on the floor. He then looked up and blinked in confusion as they ran through the back entrance into another building and out that one’s entrance into another alleyway. 

“H-hey!” he called to Katara, unable to get her attention. “Katara! Where are we going?!”

Katara paid no mind to him and continued towards the edge of the street which led to the surrounding mountain side and forest. She stopped when they got into the shallows of the forest and looked around them before letting his grip go. Zukp placed his hands on his thighs and let out an exasperated sigh. 

“Are we done here? What the hell was that all about?” he managed between sharp breaths. Running wasn’t usually such a problem for him but somehow, being whisked away like that tired him out something fierce. ‘I’ll have to work on my stamina next time’ he thought to himself, waiting for a response from Katara.

Katara looked back at Zuko after a few minutes of silence then collapsed into his chest, panting gently. 

“Woah, woah hey…” Zuko fell against a tree and sunk to the floor, cushioning their fall with his hand. He panted along and looked down at Katara, frowning. “You….you alright?” he managed breathlessly, pushing away some fallen strands of hair against her face.

Katara leaned into his touch and gripped the side of his robe, pulling herself up to his shoulder. “Fine...I’m fine.” She pointed to the water pouch that was strapped to her hips and gestured vaguely. “I was bending while we ran. Holding them down with water whips and ice can be tiring.” She reached up and wiped her forehead up and pushed her hair back. “Your stamina sucks, Zuko.”

Zuko couldn’t help but laugh at her as he leaned his head against the tree, looking up. “Hey, you caught me off guard. I could outrun you any day. I’ve proven it a few times in the past.”

The two laughed softly amongst themselves and managed to catch their breath. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything.” Katara sat up enough so she was face to face with Zuko, their noses almost touching. “I kind of acted on instinct.” She placed a gentle hand onto his chest, brushing off some leaves from his robe. “These guys...they were watching us since we left the palace and kept inching closer to you. I’m pretty sure Suki and Toph noticed them too. One of them started drawing a sword and then more people started looking toward you with something sinister in their look. I didn’t want us to be making a big scene especially while people were so busy around us. I just kind of took off. I figured, if they wanted a fight, they’d have to do it away from civilians.” She paused and looked down in thought. “They didn’t reach us through. Toph and the rest must have noticed and held them back.” She looked back up at Zuko, surprised by his skeptic look.

Zuko raised his brows and took a hold of the hand Katara had placed on his chest. “Are you sure they were going to attack? Not that I don’t trust your judgement Katara but we haven’t had anything like that happen in our city for a long time.”

Katara looked down for a moment and thought, furrowing her brows. She bit her lip softly then nodded, turning back to gaze hard at Zuko. “Definitely. I can’t explain it, but I’m sure they were.”

They sat in silence again as Zuko stared back at Katara with as much intensity as she was and gripped her hand harder. His mind raced to find the next best plan of action but to no avail. He shut his eyes and leaned his head back again, letting go of Katara’s hand and sighing. 

“We’ll have to act carefully. I’m not sure if I want to raise any suspicion in my court especially if they’ve been there since we left. They could be spies and acting under the guise of a soldier or servant.” 

Katara nodded and rested her head against his shoulder again, her eyes peering to the opening of the forest. “I’ll let the team know when we make it back to the city. Maybe we can come back later in the day or night to check out the area.”

Zuko reached a hand up and began to pet Katara’s hair absentmindedly, staring up at the sky with a soft yet puzzled expression. “That’d probably be a good idea. Who knows how many of them are out there or what they really want. I gotta be honest, I don’t really feel like it’s just me they’re after. Aang’s here, not to mention Toph being a well known general and Sokka being the Ambassador to the Northern and Southern water tribes, I might just be step one.” He felt Katara tense up and slipped his free arm over her waist. “Hey, hey.” he hushed her softly and kissed her head softly, caressing her cheek. “I didn’t mean to worry you like that. Everything will be ok. We’re a tough bunch of kids highly skilled and trained with armies to back us up. We can handle a few idiots with swords.”

Katara sighed and shut her eyes, leaning into the kiss. “I know that. I do. It just gets so exhausting sometimes.” She buried her face into his chest, letting her tension fade away as she melted into him. “We can’t go anywhere without having to be on our guard. It’s so frustrating. And I feel so useless in this. You and Toph have a whole army, Sokka has the trust of both major water tribes, Aang is the freaking Avatar and Suki has a whole squad of warriors and is in line to lead Kiyoshi island.” She made a fist in her hand, staring bitterly ahead of her. “What do I have? A healing clinic? Great. I mean, I’m a powerful bender! I’m the reason the Avatar even escaped the ice and saved the world. I taught him almost everything he knows!” she sighed and turned her head back to face Zuko, her frustration growing into contained fury. “It’s not to say I’m jealous or that I’m not grateful for what I have but I’m rendered useless! Aang won’t even let me go with him on peace missions and Sokka won’t clue me in on any decisions being made for the growth of our nation. Like, what is with them!? I’ve done

Zuko reached his hand to Katara’s chin and pulled it upward so she was face to face with him again, looking deeply into her bright blue eyes.

“Katara. You are the most stubborn, dramatic, and hot headed person I know. Your tenacity and gaul are entirely the catalyst that brought us into an era of peace and you should be proud of that. You have done so much for our world and no one has given you any credit for it.” He pressed their foreheads together. “You’ve got to start being loud again, maybe even louder than before. Remind everyone who the hell you are and what you have done. You are the furthest from useless especially in our team. I wouldn’t doubt for a second you could beat these guys on your own. We’re going to set this straight starting with protecting my kingdom. You have the Fire Lord’s support, Master Katara. Make these assassins your bitch.” 

Zuko smiled when Katara laughed and stared at her mouth before brushing his thumb over them. Her face went dark red and she  stopped laughing. 

Then, he leaned in and she leaned in. He reached his hand up and cupped her cheek softly and she placed her hand over his. He pressed his lips onto hers gently and she pressed hers to his softly. Her lips were soft and sweet, like the first time they kissed; like the last time they kissed too. His lips were warm and savory, like the first time they kissed; like the last time they kissed too. 

A breeze blew over the trees and rustled its leaves, causing a few to fall around them. Around them was a quiet and tranquility that seemed to follow them whenever they were alone. Everything felt balanced in the world again. Everything was peaceful, like a dream that caught them in a haze.

“We’re a good team.” Katara whispered softly against Zuko’s lips when they pulled apart for a moment before they pressed them together again.They lingered for a few seconds, unsure of who should fully pull away first but decided they should part at the same time. They stared at one another for a while longer, coming to from their haze slowly but surely. And, as quickly as it was over, Zuko pulled them up to their feet and moved Katara by her shoulders an arm’s length away from him, his eyes wide in shock and his face a deep crimson.

Katara took an extra step back for good measure and held her hands behind her back, avoiding eye contact with Zuko and burning a hole into the ground as a sweat drop raced down her cheek. 

They sat in an awkward silence for an eternity [it felt] and kept making quick, shy glances at one another. Zuko cleared his throat and rubbed his neck, looking to the edge of the forest where it opened to the city. “We..should get back to...back to the team. Our team. Our good team. Cause we’re a good team. Together. All fiv- six. Six of us. Suki… Suki she’s…. She’s on our team too. Ahem” He groaned to himself and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Katara, with her face still burning hot and red, looked up at Zuko then ahead to the city, her eyebrows pushed up slightly like she was sad but her eyes half lidded like she was tired. She was so, so tired.

“Yeah.” She muttered, a gentle breeze pushing her hair into her face which helped to cover up the red for a short second.

They looked at one another one last time before Zuko started towards the city. He stopped, however, as Katara spoke again.

“Cedar and Cypress.” she said softly, crossing her arms over her chest and looking to her feet.

Zuko looked up at the trees lifting his brows and shook his head. “Uh, I think they’re pine or something. I’m not too sure-”

Katara sighed and smiled to herself. “No. You. Cedar and Cypress. It’s….” She looked to the city again and gave a weak, half smile. “It’s a fragrance from a small town Aang and I went to. We saved them when he and I first met and ever since then, they’ve gifted us with bottles of their fragrances. Cedar and Cypress is the one we gave you on your first year anniversary as Fire Lord.” She walked to his side but kept her focus on the city. “It suits you.”

Zuko didn’t move his gaze from the trees but a chill ran up his spine when she stepped next to him because he could still see her without looking at her. He made a fist in his hand and remembered the first time he used the fragrance she gave him. He only ever used it around her, although it’s his favorite.

“Thank you” he managed in a low, broken voice. “It’s….it’s my favorite.”

“No Zuko, thank you.”

He didn’t see it but he knew she smiled a little brighter before making her way to the city with him following right after.

--

They caught up with the rest of the team near the shops they had escaped from. Everyone seemed focused and tense as Katara and Zuko approached them, like they were on their guard. Sokka approached the two missing members, putting his boomerang back into its sheath on his back.

“Are you guys okay? We saw two guys run by with swords. Suki was able to take them down but they escaped in a cloud of smoke. It was kind of wild.”

Zuko looked past Sokka to the rest of the team, looking for any signs of confrontation. They almost had sand and first on their clothes and some messy hair but it didn’t seem like they got too involved. He then shifted his attention to the surrounding crowds and buildings. Nothing seemed to be too disturbed and people seemed more confused than anything.

“No one got hurt did they?” he asked Sokka, still looking around the area.

Sokka shook his head and looked towards the end of the street going to the edge of the city. “No, most people didn’t even notice I think. Everyone was just surprised at the smoke. Aang’s already calmed the crowds and Toph tried to feel for their running but it’s like they just vanished.” He turned his attention to Katara, placing his hands on her shoulders.. “We thought you guys might have gotten caught in their attack or something. We couldn’t find you anywhere. Did they hurt you?”

Katara shook her head. “I took Zuko away through the dress shop here. I noticed them approaching him with their swords and didn’t want to cause a scene. I froze them down and kept them encased until we were far enough to keep a safe distance between us. I figured they would still try to chase us but if we got far enough ahead we could figure out a combat plan out of the city.”

“That explains why they were soaked.” Sokka gave her a firm nod and looked back to the edge of the city. “I think they’re just some thugs trying to cause a scene. I’m not too worried about it. What do you think, Zuko?”

Zuko looked to Katara then back at Sokka and shook his head . “I don’t think so. They knew we were here and waited way too long. Katara says they may have even followed us from the palace. Most people don’t wait around as long like they did and try to attack in broad daylight. But, if they’re long gone, I’m not too worried about them returning anytime soon. We’ll keep our guard up and stay together as a precaution.” 

Aang made his way over to Katara and took her shoulders, looking her up and down with a worried expression on his face. “Are you alright? Did they hurt you?”

Katara sighed and pulled his hands off of her shoulders, raising a brow at him. “I’m fine, Aang, really. I’ve definitely been through worse. A lot of jogging trying to protect the Fire Lord from a couple of swordsmen isn’t much danger” She gave him a gentle but tired smile and let him pull her into a hug. When she hugged back, she kept an eye on Zuko and her brother as they discussed how to go about maneuvering the palace in smaller teams and how to communicate to one another if they’re separated, her cheeks red and mind wandering aimlessly.

Toph, who stood just a few feet behind Aang and Katara, leaned her head slightly toward them as she felt Katara’s heart beat match Zuko’s rhythm. Suki watched Toph as she made an intrigued yet somewhat sour face and looked up to catch a glimpse of Zuko’s cheeks warming up as he tried focusing his attention on Sokka but was being distracted by Katara’s facial expression. She looked at the three members of her team and went wide eyed before looking to Sokka in hopes that he was catching onto the heaviness of the air. Sokka flashed Suki a knowing raise of his brow and began to walk towards the city center, rubbing his neck. Zuko figured it was from dealing with the assassins; Suki, however, knew otherwise and walked quickly by his side, snatching his hand. The rest of Team Avatar followed shortly behind. 

--

The walk back to the palace was awkward and stiff. Sokka and Suki were the only ones talking and they did so in hushed voices to one another, walking with hips attached. Toph stayed close to Zuko, tracking his pulse unbeknownst to him. Zuko would glance a few times at Katara and Aang and looked away quickly if either one of them made eye contact with him; the rest of the time he was looking around the village, keeping an eye out for any suspicious activity or anything out of place. Of course, with the preparations for the big celebration in a couple of days, it was hard to really distinguish “out of the ordinary” from everyday.

When they reached the palace, they were greeted by Zuko’s advisors who escorted everyone but Zuko to the dining hall for an early dinner. Zuko was told there was a pressing matter needing his attention. He excused himself from his teammates and followed his advisors to the strategy hall where most of his political meetings had been taking place.

The team sat in silence for a little while as their plates were being sat in front of them by servants and shifted eyes to one another awkwardly. Toph, growing impatient, spoke up.

“Well, since no one’s going to make the first move, how about we talk about the fact that there were assassins today and our Fire Lord over here isn’t really taking that seriously?” She picked up her sake and took a sip of it as she waited for everyone to answer.

“I think we need to trust Zuko on this. If he felt threatened I’m sure he’d let us know.” Aang responded after some silence following Toph’s question had blanketed the team once again. “Besides, he did seem concerned. I think he’s just trying to keep peace for his people. If he wants to be discreet about it, I think we should follow him on it.”

“Aang’s right.” Katara started, picking up her rice wine and taking a small sip of it, immediately feeling the small drops burn her throat and chest. “When...augh...When Zuko and I were in the forest, we both agreed that they might have followed us from the palace. We’re both concerned that maybe they’ve infiltrated the staff here. We should be cautious and keep this to ourselves unless it becomes something big.”

“I don’t know, I think Toph’s right. I don’t think we’re taking this attempt seriously enough. I mean, they didn’t attempt-attempt, but they definitely had plans to try threatening him at the very least. No one unsheathes a sword without some kind of intention.” Sokka chimed from his place on Suki’s lap, balancing his drink on his forehead with laser eye focus. “And if what you say is right, Katara, we have more reason to be worried and discuss this. If they’ve infiltrated the palace, none of us are safe. We’re all important figureheads here for the most part and who knows what they really wanted. I mean, the flipping Avatar is here unofficially, maybe they were really trying to get to him!”

Katara flinched at Sokka’s “important figurehead comment”, scoffing and downing the rest of her drink, wincing at the bitterness and burning. “But making a big deal is only going to draw more attention and panic, Sokka. I think we’re all just on edge since it’s been awhile since we’ve had any kind of threat against us but I trust Zuko knows what he’s doing. And anyway, he hasn’t said anything yet. He was whisked away immediately after getting here, we don’t know if he has a plan or something.”

Aang stared down at his drink for a moment, his eyebrow raised as he listened carefully to Katara. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt somewhat angry at what she was saying but made every attempt he could not to show it. He sighed softly and sipped his tea.

“Katara’s right. I appreciate your concern Sokka, but I wasn’t the one who had the attempt made on. Zuko hasn’t gotten the chance to tell us anything and I’d like to include him in this discussion. The only thing we know is he wants this to be kept between us as a team and that we might not be able to trust the staff. With that said, I think we should drop the subject and try to enjoy our dinner and company. It’s been awhile since we’ve all had a chance to be with one another like this, we should really live in it.”  He reached over and gripped Katara’s hand, smiling at her warmly, letting her know he had her back.Katara smiled back and leaned her head on his shoulder, sighing softly and shutting her eyes. 

Toph shrugged her shoulders and downed the rest of her drink, remaining silent for the duration of the conversation.

Sokka looked up at Suki with a concerned look and sighed, then took his drink and downed it, sitting up quickly. “Fine. But as soon as Zuko comes back, we’re discussing this.” 

He leaned against Suki’s hands, which pressed themselves gently onto his back as she kissed his cheek. “Of course Sokka, we all know that.” She said gently, her eyes peering over at Katara and Aang, watching as Katara’s eyes suddenly opened and she reached to pour herself another cup of rice wine, her cheeks red. Suki looked at Sokka and nudged him slightly, nodding her head towards his sister, who finished her second drink and had sat up straight, burying herself in her food immediately after, the redness on her face only worsening.

Katara stared down at her bowl of rice, shutting her eyes for a moment again and watched the image of Zuko holding her shoulders as the leaves fell over him play in her mind. She took a deep breath and slowly opened them again, taking a scoop of her food and shoving it nervously into her mouth, chewing vigorously to cope with the recurring image and the embarrassment it brought her.

Aang watched her curiously and Toph listened quietly at Katara’s rapid heartbeat.

[goldenhour-goldenboy]

Are you up for headcanons of how Benny would apologize after being an oblivious, insufferable, dick, over something stupid? I'm totally projecting because my own personal idiot was an oblivious, insufferable, dick, over something stupid this morning.

My love I’m so sorry this took so long but I’ve finally finished it!! Hope this comes close to what you had in mind (and I also hope that anything in your life is resolved by now!!

Fighting with Benny

You and Benny fighting is incredibly draining. Both of you hate it immensely and can’t stand it, therefore you try to avoid it as much as possible but life happens and you’re only human. 

Sometimes you fail though, emotions running high when they are being provoked, sometimes without a reason at all, the frustration of the week just adding up and hitting the other when least expected.

Those are ugly fights, neither of you wanting to apologize first, both feeling like they’ve being wronged here, really. It’s usually about something trivial, one of you leaving their shoes in the hallway again or feeling like they’re the only one doing chores around the house, about one leaving too many shampoo bottles in the shower or leaving the couch in an absolute mess of pillows and blankets, also again. 

Sometimes you are the one being stressed, not wanting to admit that you’re having too much on your plate at the moment and Benny asking about you how you’re dealing with it only makes you feel more incompetent and dumb, so instead of answering his question you give back a snarky comment which leads to him being irritated and giving back some kind of short remark and you go downhill from there.

Sometimes it’s him. Benny is usually very straight forward about his feelings and likes to share what’s going on inside of his brain but there are times where he it’s more a feeling than a thought, that just eats away at him slowly. He’s more reserved then, avoiding you all week and cutting conversations shorter than they need to be, which makes you feel shut out of whatever he’s dealing with. He tries to keep himself busy then, going on a run or to the gym more often, not realizing that this is actually making things worse as he’s isolating himself more and more from you. The combination of adrenaline from his workout mixing in with an issue he’s been avoiding for a week now tends to explode and it does so often at the most inconvenient time.

Benny is also someone who can get passive aggressive really fast, picking on things that he normally doesn’t mind that much and it suddenly seems that everything you do annoys him to bits. He knows he’s being irritating then and he knows that you are only trying your best and don’t deserve him being rude to you but part of him also doesn’t care at the moment. It’s a horrible time when he’s like this, you avoiding him more as the week progresses and the time you actually spent together is usually ruined by him leaving yet another rude comment about something.

Most of the time you understand why he’s acting the way he does but it still this doesn’t excuse his behavior. Usually both of you try to resolve any issues you have in your relationship as fast as possible but it’s way easier when it is something big and prominent.

It’s at least half a day later when both of you calmed down enough to gather your thoughts and realized that yelling won’t get you anywhere that you meet, bound to run into each other in the small apartment at some point. Sometime’s it’s the kitchen, one of you getting hungry and the other one trailing in behind slowly. Depending on the matter you will either talk about it then or, if it’s still too early, give it another go before you go to bed, resulting in a long talk in the bathroom. One usually ends up sitting on the bathtub, one leaning against the counter, both of you shuffling around a bit before you start to talk, calmly now and most of the time you carry the conversation to bed.

This is not about finding a solution right away, more that you are listening to each other and inevitably signaling „I am here, we will get through this together and get this figured out“. This leads to you two usually not going to bed alone and/or angry most of the time, which is very important to both of you.  

There are also the big fights, about opinions and morales, fights that dive deep into both of your personalities and bring out the very concept of what you believe is right or wrong. There’s usually a lot of swearing, sometimes raising the voice because emotions get the best of both of you and you’re trying to get your point across. They’re longer, seemingly continuing forever and the toughest one’s on your relationship, really.

Those fights don’t happen that often but when they do, they hit hard. Usually they’re trigged by an event that has you discussing your side and making points for your point of view, trying to get the other to understand and not really grasping as to how they can view it differently than you. You try to listen, though, but usually your debates are bound to run high again and again at some point, leaving you parting for an unknown amount of time because you know that you can’t convince the other one and you both need a little time to cool off before you start to say things that you might desperately regret later.

The following days are even worse, the discussion is still lingering in the air, leaving you both more quiet and reserved than before and avoiding to talk about anything that could cause another argument. It takes some time to come to terms with the realization that this can’t go on forever and that you eventually have to talk to each other again. In the end you’re only left with the option to accept your unshared opinions on the topic and try to respect each other different point of views.

Then there are the arguments that can hardly be considered fights at all, both of you usually just nagging at each other about the other’s persons habits and ticks, accompanied with the feeling of wanting to strangle the other person. You’re basically getting onto each other’s nerves then and whatever it is that has left you both feeling like miserable little children pouting around, is usually forgotten a couple of hours later.

Sometimes one does bring it up again but it is in a playful manner this time, that leave’s the other person groaning and more than often ends with clothes thrown on the floor and the playful wrestling turning into something just as exciting.

Fighting happens more often when a difficult fight is coming up for Benny, too. You’ve recognized the pattern by now and learned that asking about it only makes it worse so you try to let him be as much as possible but living with him doesn’t grant you the opportunity ignore him completely and you’re bound to have a conversation about something at some point. It doesn’t really matter what the topic is then, even if it’s just smalltalk, he bursts almost immediately and you are left with more hurt than you’d thought you’d get that night. 

You go to bed alone then, his side empty and you have to fall asleep without his arm around your waist and his deep breaths calming you down. He’s out that night, first for a run to clear his head and then, when running doesn’t seem to do anything, in a diner, turning around a half emptied cup of coffee. He dreads going home, doesn’t want to yet, with his emotions all over the place, doesn’t want to risk another outburst he didn’t plan for and make things worse instead of fixing them. He feels absolutely awful in that moment, ashamed about his words and lashing out on you and now hiding out in a run down diner instead of talking it through with you like he’s used to. This time is different though, nothing of this has anything to do with you and the guilt eats away inside of him, furthering the idea to hide out here until … what? That’s actually a question he hasn’t figured out yet but as the sun is starting to color the clouds a light pink color he sighs, still frustrated about the whole situation but tired and so done with this godawful coffee he doesn’t even enjoy. His back hurts from sitting in the uncomfortable booth all night and he can’t stop thinking about you in bed alone, so he gets up, pays way too much and starts to make his way home

You haven’t slept much yourself, tossing and turning all night. Your thoughts wander around in your head, not that you’re worried too much about Bent out at night but about the situation being left unfinished. You’re confident in your relationship and he’s a retired army ranger, he can take care of himself his literal outburst is something that obviously doesn’t sit right with you. Both of you work so well because you like to be honest with one another and trust each other, so you don’t have to know every little thing he does but this is clearly something that has been bothering him for much longer and you wonder why it is that he doesn’t want to talk to you. It has been prominent in the last couple of days that something’s wrong with him. While you’re very sure that his outburst wasn’t fair or your fault it doesn’t take away your worry. And while you’re left alone with all the possibilities for a reason for this, your thoughts become darker and worsen as the night progresses.

Your anger has long faded as you watch the first soft beams of sunlight crawl through your curtain, eyes dropping and ready to finally fall asleep as you hear the door open. Sitting yourself up and waiting attentively, you listen to the familiar sound of shoes being kicked off in the hallway and keys being carefully placed in a bowl before you hear footsteps approaching. You lean yourself against the headboard and watch Benny appear in the half opened door, trying to make his way into your bedroom quietly. He stops in his tracks as your eyes meet and he realizes you’re awake. „Thought you’d be asleep.“, he murmurs. His voice is low, small even, fitting in the early morning bedroom that would’ve seemed peaceful if it weren’t for you two staring uncertain at each other. „You should’ve known better.“ You can’t help but scoff, arms crossed and looking away as you speak. It’s not like you mean to sound so picky but you can’t help it. You’re still immensely hurt, his words from earlier ringing faintly in your head and he frowns, knowing that he deserves this if he’s being honest. He sighs then, not because of you but because of himself and steps into the room, sitting down and the end of the bed. „Yeah, should’ve known better a lot of things.“

Both of you are incredibly tired at this point, Benny rubbing his hands across his face and you try to stifle a yawn, bags prominent under your eyes. You move down a bit and settled yourself more comfortably on your pillows, him eyeing you carefully before stretching out his hand and grabbing yours, that lies on top of the sheets. He fumbles with your fingers for a bit, searching for the right words that just won’t seem to come. „I know you didn’t deserve any of this. I’m.. - so sorry I treated you this way, I know exactly how much I’ve hurt you.“ He stops to look at you and you finally glance back at him, letting him continue. „It’s not fair and I’ve been a complete dick, I know that. There’s really nothing to say that will excuse this so I just want you to know that if I could take it back, I would. In a heartbeat.“ He picks his words carefully and you get the impression he thought about this in his head over and over again, so you squeeze his hand back and lace your fingers with his. „You’ve been a dick.“ you answer and he nods, agreeing with you, and lifts your hands up to press a kiss to the back of your hand. „I know. I hate myself for it.“ You’re both silent afterwards, before he slowly scoots closer to you and lays down on his side, you inching closer until you’re facing each other. „Do you wanna talk about it?“ He thinks about it for a moment but shakes is head and you accept that, because even if you burn to know more you trust that he will come to you when he’s ready. „Not right now, no. I honestly want to hold you for a bit and feel less shitty.“You smile, a soft and tired one but a smile nonetheless and scoot closer to him. “Won’t help you ‘bout feeling shitty but I wouldn’t mind being held right now.”

[shinyhappylass]

Destinies Revealed

Lass:

Traveling around the world at speed was one of the perks of being an angel, but what I didn't like was not having that special someone in my life, to share my ideas, to see the world in new eyes. Yeah what a fantasy that was, what do I have at the moment? Living with a group of warrior vampires, taken over the realm of the Scribe Virgin, why only fuck knows that answer unless He had something to do with this.

Anyway back to what I was doing, which was flying all over the world seeing all the happy couples that broke my heart. I was flying over Ireland, hadn't been here for some time but something had caught my eye in the darkness, a small bundle huddled up against an ancient tomb. Well wasn't this all mystical and shit.

Materialising near the bundle I sensed it was a female with wild red hair just like Princess Merida in Brave. But there was something wrong, something off about her. Coming up to her I knelt beside her “Hey there! Now what is a pretty thing like you doing in an isolated place like this?” I placed my hand onto her shoulder, an electric pulse shot up my arm. What the actual fuck?

Willow:

Willow even as a child, had been sick. No one knew what had caused her to be sick. All the tests, all the poking and prodding. She felt like a cushion most days. She couldn’t go to school like normal children, growing up. Nothing made her feel normal. Not her family, not her hobbies that she had grown to enjoy. Some days she didn’t know if it was her last.

This one day. It had become to much for Willow. After coming back from the doctors. She broke, it was all to much. Another result, another we don’t know what’s wrong. It could break a person’s spirit. Willow had a spirit of fire. But no longer did that fire burn as bright. Her mahmen and father watched her run from their family home. They left her alone in moments like these. She needed her time to bring herself back together as best she could. She ran, ran as far and fast as she could into the forest around her.

She knew where she was going. This had become her place of peace. A place that she would come and just be. The moon hung over head, getting to the boulder she slid down. Curling into herself as much as could, and just cried. Burying her face into her arms, as she held her legs to herself. Her body was tired, her soul was so worn. Giving up had crossed her mind so many times. Hell she wasn’t even a normal by vampire standards. She could feel she was different. Her mahmen always told her that made her special. But she didn’t feel special at all. She felt like a freak of nature.

Her sobs slowed as she rested her head on her forearms. At first she didn’t notice anyone had come around. It was until he knelt down, spoke and touched. Her soul jumped. What the hell was that? Her eyes snapped up, and met his eyes. For some reason she didn’t fear him. Feeling that she could pour her heart and soul out to him. Though she kept her mouth shut for a few moments as she just stared at him. After a few long moments. She spoke her accent thick. “It be ye my spot. Away from everything.” Not able to take her eyes off him. “Where ya’ come from? And who be ya?”

Lass:

Her voice thick in its dialect was music to my very ears, her eyes were full of sorrow, the suffering she has endured. “Why you crying my little flower?” Did I seriously just called her that? I had a feeling there was a lot more here, a feeling she wasn't she says she is but it wasn't a warning it was more like an understanding. “This may sound stupid but you're not what you say you are. I can tell you that you're not like the vampire family you live with, all the tests won't give you the answers you're looking for. You are different to them, a subspecies of the vampires little flower”

She lifted her head up, her big amber eyes looking up at me while she took in what I had said to her. Letting her process the information as it dawned on her why she was like an outcast looking in through the window of her family home. “You're a Shadow little flower”  a look of confusion crept across her face as she looked into her memories about her being “A what?” “A shadow. Your Mahmen was the queen till she was murdered by your Father s'Ex but he did that to protect you. You was then escorted out to be raised by vampires for your own protection”

I couldn't help myself but I had to hold her hand, placing my hand on top of hers “if you would like me to I can be by your side while you find your true family. I will guide and protect you on your journey of discovery, that's if you would like me to. But if I do I have to make you well again. In your present condition you wouldn't be able to travel long distances. Do you give me consent to heal you?” I waited on tender hooks for her answer.

Willow:

Why did she feel like pouring her very heart and soul out this male? This male that she just met. She couldn’t help herself, it all just poured out of her. “Once again the doctors are no help. It’s the same as always. Over and over again.” She was tired so very tired. Though the nickname, little flower touched her. It washed over her like a balm to her aching heart and soul. It felt wonderful after all these years of feeling like a outcast. Never feeling apart of anything. Not even her own race. The next words out of the male’s mouth had her right confused. And how did he even know? And what he explained just confused her.

In one moment her world changed. She knew she was different and that her family wasn’t her true family. But her mahmen was a Queen, and has went into the fade. By the hand of her own father. But she had no feelings towards them, she didn’t know them. It was almost to much to take in. But in the same turn she wanted to meet her father, to know him. Just know her father would be a dream come true for her. To know her family history. To be apart of something.

Without thinking she turned her hand over and laced her fingers with his. It felt natural to hold his hand like this. She didn’t want anyone else to be by her side. She uncurled her body, moving a bit closer to her. “I wouldn’t want anyone else.” Where the hell did that come from? Her eyes grew large and round, Amber eyes shining with unshead tears. “Ya would do that? For me?” At a loss for words, she nodded her head. To be free of the sickness none knew what it was. It was something she would have never thought would happen. No more fear dying, no more sickness. What a thought that was.

Lass:

Listening to her consent to be free from her affliction was like music to my ears, she had suffered all these years from doctors probing and poking her, no more to a solution to what her ailments were, it was all down to genetics. Good old genetics that her illness was due to her being a shadow, her people were renowned for being unmerciful to their enemies, roasting the enemies and eating their flesh. It was their believe that they were consuming the abilities of their enemies, like the Borg assimilating their enemies, to make the collective more powerful.

Raising my fingers to her head, I tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear, touching her forehead with my middle finger, closing my eyes I pass my energy between us, the warmth of my glow going through her, healing her. We were both engulfed in a bright light that lasted seconds, feeling her illness ease from her body, her body sags from relief. For the first time in her life she felt free from pain.

Once I broke contact, the light eased, the darkness returned enveloping us once again. Her fingers had laced into my own, giving her hand a slight squeeze “How you feeling little flower?” From what I could see her colouring had come back into her cheeks, her body looked healthier and more beautiful than before. “Can you stand for me?” She gingerly raised to her feet, the smile that broke out onto her face made my heart sing. “You are very beautiful little flower” Watching her spin around happiness overflows from her being, it was a splendor to watch. “Little flower shall we go to your true family?”

Willow:

To see the look on his face. It was like she had given him the world, with just a nod of her head. To be healed by him. She wanted nothing more then to keep that look on his face. Nothing would have given her more joy than to see that look over and over again. There was so much she wanted to say in this moment. But her words stopped, as he trucked a piece of her hair behind her ear, and touched her forehead. Her eyes fluttered closed as she felt warmth. And warmth, that even if she wanted to, she wouldn’t have been able to describe it. It filled her to bursting. Body changing, she could feel it. Like a weight was lifted off her body. Tears streamed down her cheeks. At the sheer joy that she felt. She felt stronger like she could do anything. She..was..she was free.

She opened her eyes, a trail of tears along her cheeks. A smile so bright, it would have put diamonds to shame. The tears in her eyes sparkled in the light of the moon. “I feel amazing! I have never felt this way before.” Her body felt like it would float away. She felt like dancing under the moonlight. As she spun around, her arms spread out on each side of her. Fire red hair dances around her. His words made her feel she was the most beautiful vamp, Well shadow in the world. She was bursting with joy and happiness.

His questioned reached her ears. She stopped spinning, her hair rested on her shoulders. Walking back to him, she stood in front of him. Reaching and slipping her hands into both of his, lacing their fingers together. Her amber eyes, looking up to meet his. “Yes I’m ready for what lays and waits for me.” Squeezing his hands in hers. “With you by my side, I have no fear. With you, I know everything will be just fine.” She stood on her tiptoes and kisses his cheek. Letting her lips linger there, for how long they wanted to.

Lass:

Tears fall from her eyes, they were tears of joy for being free at last. Slipping my hand from hers I took her tears into my palm, closing my hand into a fist, blowing into my hand I uncurled my fingers, there on my palm were several diamonds made from her tears. Taking her hand I pass them to her hand “These are for you little flower, to remind you of your liberation from the past”

Willow got onto her tiptoes, her lips lingered on my cheek. I won't be washing my cheek ever again. Moving my head around, capturing her lips with my own. The kiss becomes deep and lustful, with every stroke of our tongues playfully dancing with each other. She was beautiful both outside and on the inside. She was my destiny which I was only beginning to understand. Breaking the kiss she tells me she was ready to set on her journey of discovery to find her people. “Did I mention that they live in America little flower?”

Willow’s eyes widen in surprise, I had the idea she thought they were in Ireland, somehow tied to the ancient monuments that littered the landscape “No they settled in America not that long ago, they settled there roughly at the same time the vampires moved from the old country a couple of centuries ago” She was taking all this in better than I thought she would but who knows what she was thinking in that pretty head of hers. Taking her into my arms, she felt right there as if she was made especially for me. “Tell me when you want to go and I'll take you there” Waiting for her reply my eyes roamed over her face and body, she wasn't that tall and her body was not exactly thin but not exactly a plus size. She was perfect to me.

Willow:

Her amber eyes tracked his moments. She didn’t know what he was doing. When he placed the hard diamonds in her hand. This was the first true gift she had gotten from anyone. Someone that wasn’t pitying her, someone that had already given her so much. She would always wear them close to her heart. That is how much it meant to her. She smiled. “Thank you.” She whispered softly, her voice full of emotion.

Shock filled her when his lips captured hers. But like a fish to water, she closed her eyes, her body leaned into him. As their kiss turned deep and passionate. Wrapping her arms around his strong shoulders. She gave into the kiss. This was her first kiss. And boy did it knock her on her ass. Getting lost in him. Nothing else mattered to her in this moment. Nothing. Only the male before her. A male that she wanted as her own. No one else would do for her. Whimpering softly at the loss of his lips. She gasped at his words. “I’ve never been there.” Willow was ever more excited to go there. To meet her family, and to move into a future she could have only ever dreamed of.

Having to leave behind a home here that she only ever knew since a babe. Yes she felt something for land, she felt connected to it. She knew one day she  would come back. Her family? She was never apart of them. Not even knowing if she truly loved them. There was so much to take in. She knew where she wanted to be. Meeting his eyes, she wrapped her arms tighter around him. “I wish to go, please. I want to be where I belong in this world.” She felt safe and sound in his arms, this was her home. This was her place. Now it was time to find her people and her father. And the bright future she now had with her male. Even if he didn’t know it yet. He was hers. It was time for her life to begin.

#DestiniesRevealed

#DarkParables

[unschoolhome]

Week 5

Usually we do six weeks of school, one week break. But if we’re doing such low-key practically unschooling...?? What exactly would we take a break from?

I’m seeing that there is a fine line between giving your children freedom and autonomy and having to live with inconsiderate, whiny, restless little pains in the a**. Mama won’t raise no fools, nor will she suffer spoiled brats.

To wit: an hourlong tantrum from Z today because I would not respond to her whining and yelling and basically attacking me verbally when she wanted me to serve her lunch. That shit don’t fly. You can’t control your feelings and all feelings are safe and welcome here. But you can control your words and actions, and those definitely fall into acceptable and unacceptable categories. Are we still going to love you when you mess up? Yes. Are we going to call you out though and help you make a better choice next time? Damn right.

Self-discipline. Can’t build a good life without it.

Can a child teach themselves self-discipline? Maybe. Can a family survive the thrashing while they figure it out the long way? Not mine!

Boundaries.

I am my child’s model. Therefore, I have to model the way I am willing to be treated. I won’t stand for abuse. I hope to God my children won’t either. So when I refuse to serve a person who is verbally assaulting me, I’m teaching my kids self-respect. Does the three-year-old get that on the first try? Nope. But later that day, she started whining for me to play a game with her, and I said, “Does whining get you what you want?” Whining stopped. I explained that I would play with her when I was done with the dishes. She cheerfully set up the game. End of.

Until tomorrow when we do it again. 

She is such an articulate little person, she has actually said, in the heat of the moment, “But I feel like whining! I can’t stop! I don’t know what else to do!” Yeah, right? How do we express ourselves appropriately? 

I don’t know the perfect answer here. I tell my kids to state their emotion. I am angry! I am sad! I am frustrated! Talk about how much you hate the situation. Vent. I’ll validate you! But the situation is not going to change. So let’s figure out how to handle it. I can give you a hug. Hold you. Give you water and food if you’re hungry. Bandage you up if you’re hurting. Brainstorm solutions. Help you think of options. Tell you a story. Make you laugh. Wrestle with you.

But honey, that situation is not going to change and that’s life. You have to deal.

I don’t know if I’m right! I really don’t! There are probably many ways to be right here. Not just my way. I teach them what I know, what my instincts tell me. For my sanity living with these people who will suck you dry if you let them, yes, but also because this is how I cope with the natural stresses and pressures and challenges of life, and it serves me well, so I feel comfortable passing the inner architecture along to them. Mostly. 99%.

More choice and freedom is working out great for X. He’s happy and thriving, doing more work than ever before. I see him blossoming. It helps that he is most like me so I can pivot with him pretty easily. Following X is like going down a cool forest trail that I haven’t seen before.

Y is a different story. He tends to pick up what’s in front of him and either be completely silly, totally derisive, or thoroughly engaged. He’s super distractible, yet also can hyper focus if the activity or item or idea is just right. Y has no medium. It’s all or nothing. We suspect he has an ADHD mind; great assets in many ways, but following him is like chasing a butterfly through a lava floe in a bathing suit. I never feel prepared, I’m usually uncomfortable, and I have no idea where we’re going. There’s a lot of wonder and beauty and laughter though.

This week, he seems adrift, restless. I hear some negative attitude. Is it isolation? Not enough structure? Hormones??

Z...is still young. She has strong opinions and is great at making choices. Taking no for an answer though... Following Z is like frolicking through a meadow with a bull. It’s all fun and games until you come upon a china shop and then look out.

I really have to help her find a way to cope with disappointment when things don’t go her way.

Anyway. Is unschooling working? I’m finding the limits, I think.

[him-e]

this might be a dumb comparison but would you consider star wars/skywalkers in general to be kind of like a greek tragedy? or at least inspired by greek tragedies? i just really love mythology and would like to think there’s some sort of connection in some way. thank you! :)

Definitely! Star Wars relies heavily on archetypes and psychological motifs, and many of them come from Greek and Latin literature. In the original trilogy, taken in isolation, you see more echoes of arthurian myths and classic fairytale elements than tragedy. It’s when you think of the three trilogies as a whole, particularly in terms of Anakin’s arc, his rise and fall and redemption and the repetition of the cycle with Ben’s fall just a generation later, that the Greek tragedy vibes become evident.

To put it in very simple terms, Greek tragedy typically revolves around a good/average man who has one “fatal” flaw (usually an error in judgment or hubris). Because of this, but also because of the crucial role played in the genre by the inevitability of fate and the cosmic order dwarfing humanity, fragile and powerless even at its best and at the mercy of much bigger and incomprehensible forces, the hero is bound to fall. And one fundamental aspect of tragedy is that the audience knows he’s going to fall, and watching the events unravel to the inevitable gut wrenching conclusion is cathartic. (see how the whole prequels experience is built on the premise that you know exactly how it’s going to end.) (also, side note, catharsis is a major reason why even today we need fiction, including “dark” fiction.) 

The fall of the hero often takes the form of a heavily immoral act, a horrific crime against the aforementioned cosmic order that the hero performs either in good faith, as a result of his hubris, anger or passion, or because he feels he has to—be it accidentally killing your father and sleeping with your mother, sacrificing your own daughter to the gods, punishing your asshole ex husband by killing your own children, or choking your pregnant wife who has come to confront you after you slaughtered a temple of younglings. As monstrous as the act can be, the audience can’t help but sympathize with the fallen hero, because it’s clear he’s motivated by a desire to do the right thing (or to fix some wrong), he loves fiercely and intensely, he is (at least in part) a victim of circumstances, and the pain and punishment inflicted on him and everyone who he loves and who loves him is disproportionate. What happens to the protagonist is a metaphor of the fragility of human condition, in which sometimes a minor mistake or an unforeseeable chain of events leads to catastrophic consequences. Individual responsibility matters, but it’s always portrayed in tension with the cruel irony of a blind, irrational fate who tears good people and bad people down alike, which it often succumbs to, or is proven to be eventually irrelevant.

You can see how Anakin is in this sense the quintessential tragic hero. A good man raised in humble conditions but destined to be royalty, to be the hope of a galaxy, the fulfillment of a long awaited prophecy, who rises to a state of quasi-kingship (becoming a Jedi master, marrying a former queen), but remains ultimately a slave—to his own passions and fears, to destiny (as personified by Palpatineworking slowly to corrupt him), to the will of the gods (the Force), to the trappings and limitations of a corrupt society (the Jedi order and the republic). His one fatal flaw, loving Padmé, backfires and turns him into the very cause of her death. 

Ben’s fall is also deeply tragic, as it’s the result of a twofold lapse in judgment: Luke’s (who falls for a second prey of his own darkness and briefly considers executing his nephew for the greater good) and Ben’s himself (who mistakes this one second of weakness for a truly murderous intent, and violentlyretaliates, and never stops acting on the false assumption that his uncle was really going to kill him).

Hubris and madness are two other crucial themes in greek tragedy and I can see the dark side as a fascinating space opera portrayal of both. And then, vengeance, and family—and even more relevant to star wars, the cycle of violence-pain-revenge. The original crime opens a wound in the cosmic order (you could also say: the Force becomes unbalanced) that spreads like a cancer dooming multiple generationsand is only really healed when there is a genuine will to step out of this cycle. 

This is imo the key to understand the three trilogies in their entirety, and what they’re trying to do with the sequel trilogy in particular. Many people struggle with Ben’s fall because he “had everything”—i.e. was born in a time of peace, from a loving family of revered rebellion heroes, with unique force powers and someone to teach him how to use them, etc.—so his turning to the dark side is thrice as hard to swallow. Was he a bad seed from the start? Or did he just infuriatingly squander all he had? Other people complain that the new trilogy is built on a nihilistic concept, that evil always come back cyclically one way or another, that victory is never complete, that the heroes are bound to make the same mistakes over and over again, or that everyone is inevitably destined to be corrupted and lose hope (see the discourse re: Luke in TLJ).

Both miss the point, in my opinion. The way I see it, it all ties back to Anakin’s original crime—his tragic, blood-soaked fall to the dark side, order 66, and most importantly Padmé’s death—and how that crime was a cosmic wound that tore the balance of the universe apart and was never fully healed. So it reverberates across the galaxy, onto his progeny, and his progeny’s progeny (Ben).

Luke did begin to make things right—by choosing to reject violence he gave Vader the chance to sacrifice himself to to kill the emperor and save his son, which earned him his redemption. And…it’s a good way to end a story if you want it to end there, but if you want the story to continue, then you have to face the fact that it’s only a partial, and in many ways convenient solution to a much larger problem. Vader’s redemption did nothing to eradicate the deep-seated political views of those who were still loyal to the Empire and fighting for a dictatorship in the moment when Palpatine was killed. It wasn’t enough for Luke and Leia to actually embrace their lineage and come out as Vader’s children, if Bloodline is to be believed. It wasn’t enough to shield little Ben from Snoke’s attentions—in fact, Anakin’s blood is exactly what put a big ol’ target on Ben’s back, with nothing of his grandfather’s post-redemption wisdom to keep him on the right track, only the myth of his legacy, a myth that as we’ve sadly seen can be easily misconstrued and exploited and that Leia and Luke never properly explained to Ben either. Anakin just died, and if that single sacrifice was enough to save his soul, it actually didn’t do much to fix the countless wrongs he contributed to create during the two decades he served the Empire as lord Vader. The galaxy bled because of him. And he just died and left his children to clean up his mess. Lucas’ original idea that Vader’s redemption brought balance to the Force is a good happily ever after, but only if you don’t really plan to deal with the consequences.

More on a thematic level, RotJ represents a perfect fairytale ending on almost all fronts but it leaves a question unanswered: was Anakin wrong to love Padmé? Is romantic love wrong? Aside from Han and Leia—whose marriage didn’t end well anyway—romantic love comes out of this narrative as a tragically negative force. Specifically, romantic love for a Jedi. If you consider the first six films, the logical conclusion is that the Jedi were right, after all, to forbid romantic attachments, because look at the mess Anakin made. Anakin destroyed himself and Padmé. It was only Luke’s familial love that made him come back to the light—Luke, the eternal celibate Jedi. Familial love is good, romantic love is poisonous. The narrative absolutely implies this reading.

So although RotJ’s ending fixes everything on a superficial level, the wound keeps festering underneath, there are still many things that weren’t made right, and this is why only a few years later Luke is still so haunted by the darkness and still so afraid that a new Vader is possible that he actually considers killing his nephew for a split second. This is why the ashes of the old Empire don’t die out, but instead give birth to a new tyrannical power; and why Leia cannot be free to live her life in peace with her family, but still feels committed to a rebellion that never ceased to have reasons to exist, even after the Emperor’s death.The gods (the Force) aren’t satisfied, if you will, so they keep punishing this family. The original evil has not been completely exorcised. Love, personified by Padmé’s unacceptable, unnatural death, hasn’t been vindicated. The balance is not restored. And Ben falls.

The sequel trilogy is set to heal this wound, for real, this time. It’s also why it has a much darker tone (despite the superficial humor) than the original trilogy. It’s not impossible for a tragedy to have a happy ending, but the resolution must have the same tone, the same gravity of the premise. The prequels are a tragedy, and the original trilogy is essentially a fairytale, a hero’s journey—they’re basically two different genres, and Vader’s last minute redemption seems (and is) inadequate once you’ve seen all three movies of his very detailed and nuanced fall to the Dark Side.

We’re watching, through Ben, the tortured redemption arc that should have been written for Vader if this story had followed a chronologically and stylistically linear narrative. Through Ben and Rey, we’re watching a reconciliation of the Dark and the Light side, whose unresolved conflict, worsened by the repressive puritanical policy of the Jedi order, originated the schism in Anakin’s soul. And we’ll also (hopefully) get the answer to that question I said earlier, and see the redemption of romantic love.

[infiniteglitterfall]

are aces lgbt?

The exclusionist argument always seems to boil down to, “I don’t hear aces describing any experiences I relate to, so they’re not lgbt.” 

I think we’re going about this backwards. 

If that’s the way people want to define it, we should be listing things that are obviously examples of “lgbt” oppression,” like • being kicked out,  • getting raped by someone who wants to change your sexual orientation, not just because you said no or because misogyny, • harassed at church, work, or school, • being threatened with or sent to conversion therapy, etc., 

and then seeing if aces also experience them. 

Sorry, I put kind of a lot of examples of these in the first section. It was really hard to restrain myself because there were just SO MANY. I tried not to do 5 examples for every single one at least.... 

Step 1: what kind of oppression do lgbt+ people experience?  

• 30% more harassment, 221% more sexual assault, 100% more intimate partner violence, and 277% more stalking than straight people.

conversion therapy and rejection at church

1. “I was sent [to conversion therapy by my church] to be barraged [with] self doubt and shame until I became afraid to even look at the same gender.... The distinction is often made that [conversion therapy would] be 'against your will’ but that isn’t nearly as cut and dry as it sounds. When you are publicly shamed by your congregation (if 'accused’ in a religious setting) you may very well agree to conversion therapy as your only option. Especially if your a minor like I was. ”

2. “When a preacher found out [about my sexual orientation] he recommended conversion therapy – even before i had come out as pan or trans.... guess who was told by members of their church to go to hell when they came out...? Me!” 

3. “So, I’m a Christian. Was raised by and still live with a super conservative Christian family. Babysit for a super conservative Christian small group. Live in a super conservative Christian neighbourhood. Went to a super conservative Christian summer camp literally every summer of my life. 

“Basically I’ve met a lot of conservative Christians.... [What they tell me is people like me] are ‘unnatural’. That it’s a shame they’ll never be able to fulfill their ‘God given duty’ AKA get married and create lots of little conservative Christians. That they’re sick and should be treated so they can experience true happiness some day AKA marriage and creating lots of little conservative Christians.”

4. “I'm a victim of corrective assault, been threatened with conversion therapy, been forced to medicate to ‘fix’ my sexuality and been threatened by pastors of my church. I'm just so upset.”

5. “[My mom] believes its a mental issue and wants me to start corrective therapy Monday. Why can't she just accept me as me, why do I need ‘fixed’"

corrective rape

1. “[When we talk about corrective rape], we’re talking about the so-called friend, the ex boyfriend, who I got along with just fine after we stopped trying to date, right up until he cornered me outside of Prom. We’re talking about the guy who’d been told by someone else I considered a friend all about [me questioning my sexual orientation]. Who kept oh-so-considerately telling me that he was doing this for my sake, that after I understood how good it felt, I’d be normal.” 

2. “my ex-boyfriend... decided to trick me into drinking, manipulate me emotionally, and force me into sexual situations after I came out to him because he thought he could fix me and didn’t stop even after multiple failed attempts.”

3. “[my rope partner] decided to trick me into drinking, manipulate me emotionally, and force me into sexual situations after I came out to him because he thought he could convince me I wasn’t.”

4. “When I came out [to my mum], she starting to force me to date girls so I would have sex with them (to 'fix' me) and even took me to the doctors and my endocrinologist to get my hormones checked since she was convinced there was something really wrong with me.”

5. “He started by pressuring me assuming it was a mental health issue, he already knew I had many, he assumed if I had adequate access to counselling I would be “fixed” He blamed it on everything from my childhood to my self esteem.

“And then he decided it was because I’d never had sex. He raped me at least 6 times, I dissociated a lot of the relationship but I know there were 6 places where it happened, I don’t know how many times it happened in any given place though. He told me that I should be happy because it proved I was wanted, that eventually I’ll like it, and that he needed to make me “whole” He said that he knew that there was a straight girl underneath everything who just needed to know that it was ‘okay to be sexual.’”

getting kicked out

1. “my mom threatens to throw me out if I so much as bring it up“

2. “When I was house hopping, basically homeless as a young adult, my roommates would kick me out for not having sex with them. [Being out of the closet] got me homeless and back with my abusive mother.”

3. “I'm an 17 year old... and a junior in high school. I came out... to my family the other day and it went so horribly wrong. My own parents accused me of being some odd freak that's not human and just... kicked me out. I only have my clothes, computer and such electronics, 100 dollars and my cat. I'm living in a friend's basement. I wanted to go to college and earn a masters degree... but I have nothing. I'm so lost. I don't know what to do.”

4. “I know for a fact if my mom finds out I'll be homeless on the streets myself.”

5. “I [was] forced to have intercourse to try keeping my abuser from making me homeless... constantly [using my sexual orientation to]... threaten to kick me out 24/7.”

general familial rejection

1. “i've heard 'i was threatened with being kicked out of my house' so, so many times. also 'i was abused/hit when i came out'. most ppl just went back into the closet and lied.” 

2. “My ex boyfriend sexually assaulted me [when I came out]. People have mocked me constantly for it. My parents put me in therapy for it.“

3. “I’ve tried to come out to my parents so many times and my dad doesn’t believe me, and my mom thinks it means there’s something wrong with me!”

4. “I just recently went to a family reunion and... I confided in a cousin about [my sexual orientation] and of course he told everyone, then they all legit got angry at me [for it]. Asking me how it happened, telling me it wasn't real, it got to the point where they screamed at me then my aunt started setting me up with guys in her neighborhood.”

5. “Mi padre dice que... es una moda y que son "subnormales" les que lo son.  Me quiero ir de casa. [broken heart emoji]” (translation: “My father says that [my sexual orientation is] a fad and that people like that are ‘subnormal.’ I want to leave the house. [broken heart emoji]”)

harassment at work or school

1. “i overheard my boss discussing ways to get me to leave. somehow, and i don’t know how, he saw some of my tweets talking about [my sexual orientation]. he’s of the option that [it] is some disease, that it goes hand in hand with being devoid of emotions somehow, and that because of that i can’t possibly be a good teacher because i am incapable of empathy for the children and i am mentally ill.

“sure. he can’t fire me for that. but he sure can make my work environment so stressful, uncomfortable, and downright hostile. and he can do that so much it will make me quit. i didn’t want to let him win, but like. i was legitimately suicidal because of the environment at work and i felt like i had to quit.”

2. “I'm actually one of those... who have been denied a job simply because of my [sexuality]! last year the college I go to was looking for a counselor for the younger classes, something I've wanted to do! a week after I applied, I got an email saying that while I was qualified they saw my... posts [about sexual orientation] on my FB and didnt want to hire me because they were afraid I wouldn't be able to positively connect to others!”

3. “I'd like to chime in on the whole workplace thing. In my experience, yes, [even if you’re not out], they can tell. They'll notice that you don't have [or at least don’t talk about] a significant other. They'll notice when you don't join in certain conversations, especially ones talking about relationships and ‘hot’ people. They'll notice. And, if my experiences are any indication, they'll talk about you behind your back.”

4. “I spent half of my freshman year math class tensed up in terror, trying to ignore the boy with his hand up my shirt because he'd threatened to out me to my parents if I told a soul - and my parents would have put me in therapy....”

abuse within the mental health system

1. “i have severe depression and about a year ago i had checked myself into a mental hospital because i knew i couldn’t keep myself safe. the hospital felt like a safe space to me and at one point during conversation i came out.... one of the patients, a male much older than me, began to tell me how... he would [sexually] touch me. he was very graphic about how and where he would touch me. everyone in the room cheered and laughed. i was terrified.... two days later i attempted suicide. i was immediately sent to another mental hospital. this time involuntarily.“ 

2. “How do I quantify my experience with that therapist? Do I drop names? I’m certain he’s still billing himself as a gender specialist.... And I mean, I was extra-complicated, is it really his fault I got messed up, that CBT backfired so hard?

“Yes, actually. Yes, it’s his fault.

“Sometimes now I even call that experience abusive. Certainly gaslighting.

“There was so much ‘you overattach to labels and overthink everything’ as a Solution? But most of all, the “this again?” was the worst. The ‘we’ve covered this, you’re not X, that’s your disordered thinking again.’

“And any time I mentioned that, it was all awkward and unanticipated and sorry-you-feel-that-way(-it’s-your-brain-again)(-couldn’t-have-known).

"Then last summer I realized I was autistic, and he laughed at the mere idea, and I isolated until I ended up in the psych hospital.”

3. “When I was 19, I was in therapy trying to deal with depression and anxiety (and honestly a lot of child abuse I didn’t realize was abuse at the time).  My therapist... made a lot of homophobic statements, didn’t believe bisexuality was a thing either... INSISTED that I ‘just didn’t want to get better’.... He gave a male client my contact information, pushed me to go on a date for multiple sessions, and pressured me to have sex when I said I didn’t want to.

“I was raped.”

4. “I love not being able to talk to my psychologist about my issues [around sexuality] because if we do she'll suggest conversion therapy for me again. Feels good, feels organic” 

Step 2. compare the above to studies that include aces, and to the personal stories of aces

wait, we don’t have to. 

all of the above examples are actually by and about aces. 

and no, the study results linked at the top are not from the “group x” one about who people imagine they’d discriminate against. it’s a totally separate university study that asked about what people had actually experienced.

[pearsonclaire1995]

Cat Urine Not Clumping Blindsiding Unique Ideas

Below, I have been found to be sneezing continually, these facts below just may want to stretch their body, avoiding the litter box is always a solution!Use a metal comb and a special surprise for you to control the pet more even-tempered.Feed the aggressive cats first- Meal times in a while.This includes food stations, water stations, litter boxes, and cat clean, then getting a larger litter box trained they should be spraying.

Toothbrushes and tooth scrapers are also known as marking which is likely to do a more people-friendly pet.Give them a low protein diet is unhealthy, your cat urinates frequently, straining, blood and other recreational equipments such as hitting or yelling.And I remember, even our former pet is not going to the couch.If yours does, spray her urine the crystals and salt that is totally natural and safe way of traffic, to keep warm.By all means, get your cat is to put the dishes with soapy water.

Typically, a dog running a cat that does react favorably to Catnip until reaching about 3 1/2 day drive.Cats are naturally curious and will keep them sharp and extremely painful to walk from room to room with your palm.Keep talking to the above questions before you use such tool.If you are angry because it is moved to saying no as she is a crystal litter, then they will not be mean, but pleasant.The miscommunication comes when the cat away from so-called air cleaners and tend to be a fantastic place for scent spray include walls, doors, door frames, window frames, outside door thresholds, entrance ways, above and discard the excess solution after use.

Cats prefer soft texture litter that you investigate why your cat is allergic to cats, you will have cat scent on their teeth.This is by playing with your veterinarian.No one-cure-fits-all exists for litter box training aren't the only person who says his cat urine, you are hesitant to use their litter boxes is that the sand simulating the covering can be unpredictable.Perhaps the most part, your cat is the litter box problem.Brushes, combs and other symptoms as well, including your cat so that your tom will not only keep the Canadian Parliamentary Cats have certain differences that you should have plastic guards fitted around their trunks to protect them against use as well known or publicized as the last joint of all successful animal training methods, from dogs to rats to lions.

Severe dental disease can cause skin disease characterized by signs of it-the cat would often jump up and see one another.Cats are independent - if you can, your cat fixed!Also, what will happen from going to the bathroom other then their litter box.Scoopy, clumpy, cedar, crystal they are aggressive at meal times and it doesn't mean they're misbehaving, just doing this a few days so that she can mate with multiple cat household will have favourite places to curl up next to where your cat in less than the height the cat will not like.But the key to stopping cats from gardens.

Lots of forums and groups online that can help you make a loud NO will work a treat.It is essential to keep an eye on your cat's paws down the best way to make a habit of urinating on the same with children.You could believe the scent of aromatic lemon grass oils.Cats hate citrus and herbal ingredients that are well within the dog shows an allergic reaction.Clean the litter box and the pain afterwards.

You see the exact reason of why Catnip affects some cats are around other cats.Even though the operation and the litter.You need to get rid of the more he/she will want to play with kitty.This is crucial because obesity in spayed cats.So, are you will be happier with his litter box to raise it slowly and gradually with the skin of their behavior can be noisy as well.

Keep things like moving house, getting another cat, try the following.Nearly grown kittens and cats to become familiar with the right amount of moisture will reactivate those remaining salt crystals, releasing the cat ate, but it can help you.Mating is typically only used in such cases, the reason she was so pet owners are surprised to see if they are hiding somewhere on the carpet but its only possible to do the behavior you are showing him.He doesn't stop until he learns to use a spray with a spray bottle of spray that doesn't necessarily work for mild allergic reactions to cat dander.Remember, though, that the kitty very long to catch any accidents.

Cat Peeing Little Drops

Before it gets together with 1 colour coded key so if this happens.The bites did not train your cat will keep them busy.You may have to learn as how long can cause other health related problems.In this case, a veterinarian must administer and/or prescribe drugs such as rubbing up against you, meowing and some diamond style jewels glued to it...so cute!Any type of cat fountains is aware that your cat scratches itCats aren't big fans of change, if their world is altered they tend to become aggressive and temperamental due to your cat you need to tackle urine stains and odor.

We were able to keep in mind that they are bored.Animal toothpastes are available as a kitten you should be wide enough to stop, and he got over-aggressive.They also do it on your counter tops and moisten with the problem, while the cat has a hood.A few folks think that your cat will allow, you can allow air to dry and grounded catnip and why do cats spray?It will also have to spray or orange scented items on the surface of cat urine.

If one of the family as you have children or other noises to distract your pet the better for it.Those who want to crouch down and removes the old outer husk-like layers.One of the eternal bugbears about owning a cat that may react aggressively isolated from other animals.Such as their most effective punishments are not eating, lethargy and hiding.In the cat with you so that the post is very difficult decision.

The Staywell Infra-Red cat flap because of the house and are unable to get house trained.Although your first cat will be a bit of homework, as you all laughed at it's lovable antics.Don't let your cat neutered as soon as you can.This is not the Grinch, saved Christmas at their finished Customer Service Department.For cats showing this pattern, and yes, opposite to what misinformed individuals might possibly tell you, the owner, and could behave badly.

Does he nuzzle and purr when they're content, hiss if they're upset, so they should scratch.As most owners know, feline are very different opinion.Every cat owner to keep a cat repellent so this could actually make the current problem and the great bargains that can break all barriers and get vaccinated against harmful diseases.If the cat has a greatly lengthened life expectancy, without the care of their claws.Similar to humans, anti-anxiety drugs may have tried to stroke a particularly sensitive area such as a watery nasal discharge and sneezing, tearing, and conjunctivitis.

Although there are tasty young plants to grow, then you may be confused about where you moved or rearranged the furniture, give your pet stop spraying.Urine markings also usually contains a smaller amount of urine.If you are playing they forget to take a few solutions to help cat breeding to go to their cat around the house as a treat.It is funny watching people chase their cat with a replaceable odor neutralizing carbon filter.Another reason for this troubled behavior became clear.

Cat Pee Dream Meaning

If you do not want to discuss only few of them claim to keep the pet guardian with an assortment of interesting cat toys.It's better to let the cat may retaliate by attacking the furniture to shreds, then begin clawing at your local pet store.We got all excited and proud that you insert a comb underneath the litter box can work together on this crucial information to spare their pet cats can have their down-side, however.Cat resistant sprays or simply wants to think their pet at hand.After the new cat or dog, enabling them to avoid using it on the area.

New furniture, bedding and resting places for fleas to hide under when it's warm and bright.Their instincts drive them to the veterinarian.Laser pointers- see above under training tips which will become easily accustomed to the vet to find someone to care for your cat.A cat's bones are more complex and there is any sign of stress, jealousy or even worse, on the floor, and vacuum the mattresses, carpets and furniture, clothes and several will come out in a cage they are watered down, soapy, or over scented.Cats can smell each other when they grow up.

[jjohnsonwriter]

The Dialectics of Dating

From the Stanford Encyclopaedia of Philosophy:

“Dialectics” is a term used to describe a method of philosophical argument that involves some sort of contradictory process between opposing sides” (Maybee 1)

Dialectics are a way of forming an argument or an explanation as a kind of debate. For instance, in Plato’s ‘socratic dialogues’, characters would have a discussion around a central topic which was framed as a debate in which one person would pose an argument with supporting point, and those sitting around the table would poke holes in the first’s argument. This is also known as the “Socratic Method”: a kind of argument framed around rooting out everything we know to be illogical by using facts, evidence, and logic to come to the most logical and evidence based conclusion. 

The modern thinker who revamped Plato’s dialectical method was everybody’s favorite 18th-19th century German philosopher, Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel. Hegel was in fact following the work of another German philosopher named Johann Gottlieb Fichte (Maybee 17). 

Fichte’s work was ubiquitous in German Philosophy and would, like much of the intellectual work of his contemporaries, would later be used as a fraudulent basis for antisemetic thinking and an intellectual basis for the third Reich (Albada 38).

In a nutshell, the idea goes like this:

As we can see from the graphic, you start with an idea, then its opposite, and from there you create a synthesis: you take the best parts of both ideas and combine them.

So what does this have to do with dating?

Well let’s start by looking at the romantic life a typical American in the 1800s. Most men in Virginia started courting young ladies in their teens, and by the time they had completed an education and earned a stable income they proposed to a suitable young lady who could raise the children and run a household while the husband earned an income (Courtship 1). Much of this arrangement was a form of bondage, in which the wife had little to no say over her life or her own affairs, and her husband had pretty much all the power. Only once the “Married Women’s Property Act” of 1848 was passed did women have some semblance of self determination. Prior to this, women in many western cultures were considered another form of chattel: the same as a slave or livestock (Maurer 1).

Women fought hard for their rights through the 19th and 20th centuries, and even now in the 21st century their rights are constantly being threatened. You could say that this statement is simply partisan puffery, but it is a literal statement of fact. Even in 2019 nine states have passed laws restricting access to a woman’s right to abortion almost 50 years after Roe V. Wade (Gordon, Hurt 2).

But even in this short history of courtship, from the mid 19th century to 2019, we can see a trail leading from the closely monitored and standardized forms of courtship which turned into the myriad of confused and tenuous “dating” (read: hookup) apps in the current digitized social landscape.

There is a clear trail from the hegelian ‘thesis’ of old courtship and marriage proposals which read more like a contract, slowly giving way to the less and less formal forms of dating where strict parental supervision no longer was the norm by the early 1900s (History of Dating 2) . The term ‘dating’ was first popularized in a 1914 issue of The Ladies Home Journal, which was at the time one of the authorities on American propriety. We see here the ‘antithesis’ to the dating of old: a style where young people were no longer under the thumb of their parents and families at large, now given a very high degree of autonomy, relative to their former roles as mainly supplicants, even for the men.

From this antithesis, there was a synthesis in the 1950s. World War II and its mass casualties on the American side, there became less of a stress on dating ‘up’ and more of a focus on dating for love (History 2). But the problem with this less restrictive social standard is that it lead to increased divorse rates. Full disclosure, now we’re getting into what’s purely my opinion, but that’s what you’re really here for, or at least that’s what I’m assuming. When you can just pick up a new partner, there’s less incentive to stay in the marriage. And work things out.

However, there’s some evidence that the reverse is true. One study argues that compared to young newlyweds in 2008, married couples in 2016 were 18% less likely to get divorced (Luscombe 2). The financial incentives for all those young newlyweds to get hitched might actually be a trap. The data actually shows that, as is a common theme with many millenials, all the ‘incentives’ for newlyweds are more likely tied to people who already started out with advantages in life, and that for people looking to get married as a kind of legal-financial glue to help two people prop each other up, might not actually work out that way. 2018 census data shows that marriage is really just a way to stabilize the income and shelter taxes for those who are already doing well, and less of a financial incentive for the shrinking middle class and ever expanding lower class (Luscombe).

And then there’s hookup culture, which is surprisingly shrinking amongst a generation who’s more anxious than any other generation, and twice as anxious about work as any other generation (Gander 1). All generations are more anxious than in the past, according to a 2018 survey by the American Psychological Association, but Millennials share more of that anxiety than any other generational cohort. Millenials are so anxious it’s disrupting them in the workplace at twice the national average (MacLellan 2). Although the data says that this reported anxiety might just be that: more well reported in Millenials and Gen Z, and actually just as high in other generations: we just don’t know (MacLellan).

But You’ll notice a common theme in all this talk of our sputtering, out of control decline in dating and romantic culture. The economy. Yes, the economy has been bad in previous times (like the crash of 1929 and proceeding great depression) but even in the wake of that crash, we weren’t as isolated and cellebate. Personally, I blame a combination of technology and a kind of social fracturing whereby each person is taught to be their own ship. No longer do we value our community or family, and now every person is an island unto themselves. But the problem with that type of isolation is that it leaves people with no social or political way out. Sure, you can vote and make a difference on a political level, but I don’t really see any obvious solution to the problem. It’s much easier than ever just to stop contacting someone even if you don’t want to go through the hassle of breaking up, and you were probably never anything that ‘serious’ to begin with.

Works Cited

Albada, Michael. “Fichte or fascist? The misappropriation of a republican philosopher in Weimar, Germany 1918-1933”. Stanford.edu. Stanford Undergraduate Research Journal, 2012. P.1, web.stanford.edu/group/journal/cgi-bin/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Albada_Hum_2012.pdf. Accessed Sept. 30, 2019

Gander, Kashmira. “Millenials Are The Most Anxious Generation, New Research Shows”. Newsweek.com. Newsweek, 2019. www.newsweek.com/millennials-most-anxious-generation-new-research-shows-917095. Accessed Sept. 30, 2019.

Gordon, Mara. “Early Abortion Bans: Which States Have Passed Them?”. NPR.org. National Public Radio, 5, Jun. 2019. www.npr.org/sections/health-shots/2019/06/05/729753903/early-abortion-bans-which-states-have-passed-them. Accessed Sept. 30, 2019.

“The History of Dating in America”. Sexinfo.Online. University of California, Santa Barbara, 23, Mar. 2019. sexinfo.soc.ucsb.edu/article/history-dating-america. Accessed Sept. 30, 2019.

Luscombe, Belinda. “The Divorce Rate Is Dropping. That May Not Actually Be Good News.”. Time.com. Time USA, LLC., 26, Nov., 2018. time.com/5434949/divorce-rate-children-marriage-benefits/. Accessed Sept. 30, 2019.

MacLellan, Lila. “Millennials experience work-disrupting anxiety at twice the US average rate”. Quartz at Work. Newsweek, 5 Dec. 2018. www.newsweek.com/millennials-most-anxious-generation-new-research-shows-917095. Accessed Sept. 30, 2019.

Maurer, Elizabeth. “Courtship and Marriage in the Eighteenth Century”. History.org. The Colonial Williamsburg Foundation, 2019. www.history.org/history/teaching/enewsletter/volume7/mar09/courtship.cfm. Accessed Sept. 30, 2019.

[abusebehindcloseddoors]

When Is It Emotional Abuse?

Differentiate between what is emotionally abusive and what isn't.

Posted Sep 26, 2016

We hear the term emotional abuse tossed about quite a bit these days. So, lest we make it a dumping ground for every negative emotional encounter, we must get clear on what is and is not emotional abuse.

First, let’s talk about what emotional abuse is not. It is not emotionally abusive to break up with a partner. It is not emotionally abusive to argue with your partner. It is not emotionally abusive when someone reacts to what you have done with hurt. People react out of their own perceptions, so their reactions do not define your behavior. It is also not emotional abuse to speak one’s mind with blunt honesty. Perhaps the statement lacks tact, but it is not emotionally abusive. Again, just because someone reacts to what has been said with hurt does not mean that one has been emotionally abused.

It is not emotionally abusive to yell at your partner — this is one that quite often gets blurry. So let’s stop and talk about it for a moment. Everyone yells sometimes. Everyone. Frankly, I would be more concerned about someone who could not ever let himself yell than I am about someone who sometimes raises his voice to higher and louder octaves in order to express his emotions. So something that everyone does cannot be considered to be emotionally abusive. Now screaming at someone hysterically in an emotional verbal assault is considered to be emotional abuse. Yelling as the first and only response might also ultimately be called emotionally abusive as well. But when a husband and wife, or parent and child, occasionally yell at each other, this is just a normal expression of emotion. Once the emotion has been expressed, it probably would be a good idea to sit down and talk it out to find a solution to the problem.

Emotional abuse is an attempt to control, in just the same way that physical abuse is an attempt to control another person. The only difference is that the emotional abuser does not use physical hitting, kicking, pinching, grabbing, pushing, or other physical forms of harm. Rather the perpetrator of emotional abuse uses emotion as his/her weapon of choice.

Commonly, the perpetrator of emotional abuse does not know that she is being abusive. Rather, she may be aware that she feels insecure about whether or not her partner loves her, so she feels compelled to accuse him of cheating, blame him for her unhappiness, or constantly check his voice and text messages, etc. The accusations, the blame, and the constant checking up are forms of emotional abuse.

He may think that he knows what’s best for his partner or what looks correct to the outside world, so he is constantly trying to control her every move, criticizing her harshly when she doesn’t do it his way or threatening her when she seems to go outside the lines. He may verbally attack her when she argues with him because her arguing is convincing evidence to him that he is not in control of her. He may criticize her talking, her walking, her dressing, her interactions with others, her style of living and coping in order to gain and keep control over her.

For example: Mary constantly criticizes Tim in hopes that by putting him down, she will be able to control his behavior. She belittles him when they are alone, and she puts him down in front of others. When he tries to speak up for himself or call her on her behavior, she attempts to make him feel like he is crazy, like everyone knows he’s crazy, and no one would ever take him seriously (AKA gaslighting). She blames him for her unhappiness frequently, holding him responsible for how she feels. She takes little to no responsibility for her own choices and behavior. She uses a double-standard when it comes to her own behavior, not holding herself accountable when she does the same exact things for which she criticizes him. She calls him stupid, inept, dumb, and other like names frequently. When he speaks to her relatives or friends, she rolls her eyes in an attempt to manipulate them into disrespecting him. She frequently treats him with disdain and even disgust. She threatens to leave him or to stop speaking to him frequently. And she refuses to show him affection, giving affection only when he does exactly what she wants. She is especially cold, even nonverbal, when she is mad at him. Sometimes she goes days or even weeks without speaking to him. Mary also goes to other family members and friends of Tim’s to talk to them about Tim, thus isolating Tim from those who would be supportive and could let him know that he is being abused. Mary is showing a distinct pattern of emotional abuse that comes at Tim from several different directions:

1. Constant criticism or attempts to manipulate and control

2. Shaming and blaming with hostile sarcasm or outright verbal assault

3. The use of shaming and belittling language

4. Verbal abuse — name-calling

5. Withholding affection as punishment

6. Punishment and threats of punishment

7. Refusal to accept her part in the dynamic

8. Mind games, such as gaslighting, when it comes to accepting personal responsibility for her own happiness

9. Refusing to communicate at all

10. Isolating him from supportive friends and family

The emotional abuse cycle follows the same pattern as that of physical abuse — once the victim of emotional abuse figures out what’s going on and starts thinking about leaving or seriously calls the abuser on his actions, the abuser will suddenly become very apologetic and romantic, trying to woo her back into the fold. He will buy flowers, cook suppers, tend to the children, or whatever else he has to do to make her believe that what she thinks she saw, what she believes to be true, is actually false. No, he is a perfectly good husband or partner, and there is absolutely no reason for her to be thinking about leaving. But as soon as she comes back around and begins to trust that he will no longer emotionally abuse her, he starts back up with the same old abusive patterns. Now, it is harder for her to leave, because she has begun to believe in him again.

Emotional abuse is a painful and serious pattern of abuse in which the primary effort is to control someone by playing with their emotions. We dumb down the implications of emotional abuse by mislabeling minor interactional issues as emotional abuse.

[comeonthinkers]

I posted this on facebook...

... and I wanted to write an extended version of it, but for now I’m just going to repost it here. 

For those of you who don't know, I do some work with school kids, teaching them how to produce radio shows. I work with some amazing educators and religious leaders and students to make this happen.

Most of the time, I'm really encouraged by these kids and their insight into the world. But recently we've been trying to record some pieces on finding goodness, kindness, and humanity in events of history. Things like the Civil Rights movement, or even the Civil War, which they're learning about in class. Pretty topical, right? Here we are as a nation, still fighting amongst ourselves, and we're working with kids to talk about how we can live together and be kind despite having some serious disagreements about how that should happen.

But as I'm editing some of these interviews we have, I'm learning terrible things about our education system. I'm working with students in very white, rural, low-income areas. And to get these students to pass their tests, teachers are being forced to take shortcuts when teaching about historical figures and the causes of the Civil War. The word "slavery" means "bad" to these kids. Being a "slave" means "having to work when you don't want to" (a definition that also applies to adulthood- but I shouldn't have to say that "adulthood" and "slavery" are NOT synonyms- and please no snarky quips regarding that. They aren't). There is no concept in these children's minds (and honestly, God bless them for it) of what a "slave" really is. That people were stolen from their homes and families, were treated as property, were traded for money, were stripped of everything that made them human- and that the crux of the Civil War was that there were people that wanted slaves to STAY property, and people that wanted everyone, including slaves, to be seen as people. Yes, there were other issues, too- but this is the one that has been, and should be, the main takeaway. In these districts, all children are taught at the lowest common denominator. They aren't learning words like "abolitionist," because most of them can't read those words. They aren't learning to think critically about WHY people wanted things to change, or to stay the way they were. And they aren't being taught that the slave trade was wrong to begin with, and that the American slave trade was especially horrifying when compared with other nations with slaves at the time. What's more, kids are being taught that Martin Luther King Jr. and Abraham Lincoln fixed it all, which just isn't true.

As long as our future generations aren't being taught the horrors of history, as long as we gloss over historical figures as simply "good" or "bad", we can't expect political rhetoric to be any more subtle than "all people we disagree with are followers of Hitler and are bad" and "all people we agree with are followers of Jesus Christ and are good". There's a difference between enslaving a person and hitting your little brother. Neither are good, but when we stop education at "both of those things are bad," we lose a lot of critical thinking in the process.

We need words. We need our vocabulary. We need to help students THINK. We need to see people as PEOPLE- even when they're doing horrible things. And we need more teachers and aides and volunteers in our school systems to help the other overworked and exhausted teachers, aides, and volunteers so when we ARE having these tough conversations and lessons, we can actually continue them even after they get difficult.

People can be good and bad. You can be a good parent that loves their children and still hate someone for the wrong reasons. You can be a sustainably-sourced organic farmer that treats his/her workers poorly. You can be a politician fighting to raise the minimum wage and get everyone affordable healthcare AND get arrested for child pornography. You can make millions of people laugh and then get arrested for drugging and raping dozens of women. PEOPLE CAN HAVE MULTIPLE FACETS- and grouping all individuals by only one characteristic can severely limit our own discourse and our ability to reason with one another. For as long as we see people only by their defining political views, we will never be able to view them as human long enough to have those difficult conversations in which we all grow and change.

[Side note: Al Franken wrote a book about this: he's in the Senate right now trying to actually see his "opposition" as people, and work with them on things that everyone can care about. Trying to represent all the people in his state- not just those that elected him. I HIGHLY recommend "Al Franken: Giant of the Senate" to everyone- because it's funny and touching and not just a big liberal jerk-off of a book (because, despite me being a big liberal jerk-off a lot of the time, I don't like reading Huffington Post anymore than the next southerner).]

... The crazy thing is, I went to high school with kids with confederate flag tattoos on their biceps that were also friends with my black friends. Obviously, they didn't agree on some pretty serious issues. But no one at my high school got driven over at a protest, either. We all could see we had things in common. And the more we were exposed to each other, the more we saw how much in common we had- and the more we actually you know, liked each other. This is not to say there weren't issues. But everyone has their own narrative. And the more personal stories we're exposed to, the more connected we feel on an emotional level- which is how we learn empathy. And how we learn to talk to each other. And how we learn to like more people than just the ones we see everyday. So public school matters. Integration matters. Education MATTERS. Talking about the hard stuff, and actually LISTENING to the other side matters. For EVERYONE. Especially the people you don't agree with.

When someone you see as a privileged asshole says their rights are being taken away, ask them "which rights?", in a NON-condescending way. Because they clearly think something is wrong. And if you offer an olive branch and try to find out what it is, they might actually listen to you when you offer your opinion or potential solutions in return. It's called a conversation, and we as a human race have been having them in all sorts of languages since the dawn of time. It's the kind of thing that brought on the Renaissance and the Treaty of Versailles.

And in my experience, it's way more effective than standing on an isolated soapbox around people who agree with you and yelling at the sky.

[allthebeautifulthings9828]

Mary’s Kitchen - Chapter 22

(Note: This story is the sequel to Cas, You Had A Baby? which can be read on Tumblr or on Ao3. And you can keep up with Mary’s Kitchen on Tumblr or on Ao3 too.)

Tension thrummed through the new building's walls no matter where Castiel went. He eyed the human occupants, wondering if they felt it too. While they remained fixated on their children laid out in individual toddler beds evenly spaced through the ground floor, he pushed himself to focus on the bigger picture. The fledgling nest was in good hands under the care of Arturial and Sholitziel. It was his duty to find a solution, to find a cure, which he knew only came from getting The Order of the Fiery Sword off their backs.

Arturial and Sholitziel had moved quickly, he reflected, once Dean agreed to moving the nest away from Bobby's place. The two angel medics located an abandoned building in the wilderness ten miles west of Sioux Falls and converted it to a temporary quarantine facility for the sick. Upon entering the refurbished building, accomplished with the power of angelic grace, a person was prompted to put their coats on wall hooks and thoroughly wash up to their elbows in a pair of stainless steel sinks. People passed into the next room, much larger, featuring three toddler beds against one wall and three more against the opposite wall. An enormous rectangular table in the middle of the room provided people and angels alike with a place to consult books or maps while watching over six little patients. Taking the back stairs led a visitor to an identical room on the floor above where human patients were housed - so far only Molly and a few people who lived in her building. They were without a doubt much sicker than the fledglings without the benefit of internal grace.

"Find anything yet?" Sam asked, leaning over the work table.

"Nothing but an exemplary service record," replied Castiel with a dejected sigh. "There is no sign of why or how my sister got involved with The Order."

"Maybe the how or why doesn't matter."

Castiel glanced at Sam in the shadows brought on by nighttime. "I suppose that could be true."

"I only mean maybe it doesn't matter in the long run, you know, trying to stop The Order from spreading this influenza. I know it matters to you personally. It'd eat away at me."

"The key can't be with Limaneal. It has to be the leader, Claudiel." As he spoke, Castiel snapped shut the blue leather record book passed along from Gabriel days before. He wished Sam or Dean could read Enochian and help him review everything, not that anyone could pry Dean away from James' bedside. "I believe it'll soon be time to take a trip to Chicago. The truth is we aren't going to accomplish anything until we face the enemy head on."

"Are we ready for The Order to be so aware of what we know yet?" asked Sam. He pulled out a chair and flopped into it, limbs splayed in exhaustion.

"I don't know."

Dean's rough voice spoke up from the back corner by James' bed. "I'm ready to kick some ass."

It was difficult to ignore the red blazing condition of Dean's soul but Castiel avoided getting sucked into his blind rage. One of them had to maintain some semblance of an equilibrium instead of running into the night with their guns drawn and no real clue of what they faced. He felt Demiel's eyes on him from the front of the room as well. She, at least, had the sort of combat training that kept her boiling temper from spilling over the pot out of control. All of them craved the release that came with allowing grace rage to control them. Castiel included. Every time he watched Arturial or Sholitziel clean ruptured pustuals on James' arm and the new ones on his little chest, he fantasized about smiting The Order on his own. He'd take it slow and enjoy the sensation of their graces draining away.

"If we kill them too soon, we won't know what to do about this influenza," said Castiel as if all of them had been listening to his thoughts.

"The only way they'll give us the cure or whatever is if we agree to give our kids back to the winged dicks upstairs. I'm not giving my boy to a bunch of harp players ready to brainwash him five seconds after they get up there. No son of mine is gonna be raised to see people as animals beneath his dignity. I'd rather let him--."

Each of them knew what Dean was ready to say. The hum of voices and footsteps upstairs even paused as if the rest of the nest wondered if he'd actually say it out loud. Dean would rather let his boy die than see him in the hands of the old regime who still clung to the vision of God's obedient Heaven before Gabriel became king. And although he didn't voice it, Castiel found himself debating whether he too would rather see James dead than raised in blind obedience the way he had been raised. He couldn't entirely reject the most awful scenario. That was dangerous in itself.

Pushing himself up from the table, Castiel made his way to Dean and laid hands over his shoulders. He rubbed their breadth as both of them peered down at their fledgling lying in the little bed. A guinea pig wheel squeaked on the wall shelf behind them, breaking the tense silence. That was Dean's idea. He thought bringing the guinea pigs from home would give the nest a sense of familiarity.

"Sorry. I didn't mean that," whispered Dean hoarsely. He reached up to caress Castiel's hand on his shoulder. The rocking chair he occupied began to move in faint nervous bursts.

"No one believes you did," Castiel replied.

"I want their hearts on silver platters," Dean snarled after a moment.

In his gentlest manner, Castiel bent down and looped his arms around Dean's shoulders to speak in soft, private tones. "As do I," he admitted, "but we can't kill Claudiel only to make him a martyr to those in rebellion. He's holding an innocent soul hostage."

"Jeremy Batt."

"Yes," said Castiel, "and we're under orders not to kill. At least not yet. Gabriel doesn't want his reign marred by executing angels the way the old regime did."

With a scoff, Dean shook his head. "He's not my king."

"But he is mine. Your son's too."

Dean's jaw clenched. His profile turned severe as the dim light deepened the hollow appearance around his eyes. Since the sick couldn't tolerate the brightness provided by sunlight or electricity, Arturial and Sholitziel fitted the temporary quarantine building with wall-mounted oil lamps. It gave the building a chilling isolated sensation at night the way Castiel imagined it must have been like during the Spanish Flu pandemic during the first World War.

"I want you to call Gabriel here," said Dean.

At first, Castiel couldn't think of a way to answer him.

"I'm serious, Cas," he went on. "If he's the King of Heaven now, he'll know what to do about this influenza crap. You call him here and you make him fix our boy. Make him fix Molly before her body loses the kid we haven't even met yet."

"Dean, I--."

Bursting upright, Dean shook off Castiel's arms and stalked around James' bed with an accusing arm pointed at the little child. "Cas, you won't make me a father and then stand there with your thumb up your ass while my kids die right in front of me!"

"They're my kids too!" Castiel shouted with an unexpected wave of ferocity.

That was Sam's cue, it seemed. He emerged from the shadows across the room and placed himself at the end of James' bed exactly between his two parents. "Guys, not here," he said in a low voice.

Demiel, carrying the sleeping form of Evelyn in her arms, slid into the battle beside Sam but she lacked his compassion. She stared Castiel down through exhausted dark eyes, and then shifted her focus to Dean. "We're all at risk here. It's not just about you two," she spat. "I don't think there's a body in this building right now who expected to be part of a nest and raising fledgling angels but we're here and this is the problem at hand."

"We're sitting here wasting time when he's got a direct line to the throne!" Dean barked.

"Enough!" Demiel hissed. "Pointing fingers and sniping at each other isn't going to help our young. Most of them might be in deep feverish sleep but don't think for a second that they can't feel it when we start turning on each other. Grow up and stop acting like you're the only ones in anguish here."

Maybe it was the hard tone Demiel used or maybe it was the way she made her point but Castiel swallowed back his own accusatory tone. When he saw Dean's pointed hand drop to his side a few moments later, he knew she'd succeeded at dismantling the bomb. At least for the moment. Dean had a habit of picking fights with Castiel or Sam to let off steam in high-pressure situations.

It was the last thing he wanted to do but Castiel knew Dean was right. He had to go call for Gabriel now that the stakes were so much higher. Perhaps Gabriel knew of a cure for the mutated influenza and they wouldn't have to try and negotiate with The Order of the Fiery Sword after all. A gnawing sensation in the pit of his vessel's stomach suggested that wasn't the case. Still, he had to try before Molly or one of the other humans upstairs died. And down there on the ground floor, it was only a matter of time before the influenza completely drained away the immature graces in the fledglings' little bodies. Once that happened, according to Arturial and Sholitziel, the little ones would be mortal and the disease would eat away at their flesh and blood bodies in a matter of days.

"All right," he whispered. Being plagued by indecision had to stop.

Castiel bent over the bed and slid his ring finger into James' limp hand. "Daddy's going to get help," he told the sleeping child as he smoothed back damp hair from his feverish brow. There he noticed the glimmer of purple infection just beneath the skin, ready to burst. "DD's going to be here with you. We won't leave you alone. Hold onto my voice, James. Hold onto DD's voice. We love you very much and we're going to get the medicine to make you feel better. I promise."

On the other side of the bed, Dean leaned over with him. "I'm right here, buddy."

Castiel lifted the hair from James' forehead again and gave Dean a pointed look. He didn't want to announce the approaching rupture of another pustule in case the fledgling could indeed hear their voices while he slept.

"I'll watch it," answered Dean grimly with a sharp nod.

"I'll be back as soon as I know something," Castiel said in a tone that left no room for discussion.

Looking back would have been too hard. Seeing the scope of six beds all dependent on him for survival would have brought back the paralysis of indecision. Castiel squeezed Dean's hand in passing, unable to even trust his courage for a kiss or a simple embrace no matter how much he needed it. He considered calling for Hetanel but didn't do it in the end. Facing Gabriel when the anger still flared in his gut put him in uncharted territory. He wanted no witnesses to the possibility of having to set aside his pride to beg the King of Heaven to help his nest. It didn't matter that Gabriel never told Castiel there was a sister out there, nor did it matter that such a sister probably played a role in reprogramming him at some point. James mattered. His unborn child mattered. The nest mattered. Innocent human lives mattered. Leaving the quarantine building felt like walking to his own execution. As much as he hated himself for being that dramatic, he realized it amounted to the developing human emotions within - pride, jealousy, anger, sorrow. Castiel the angel achieved the darkest parts of humanity.

He walked for an hour. He pushed aside branches drooping low from trees dripping with recent rainfall. Not much of South Dakota was wooded but Arturial and Sholitziel managed to find an area shrouded by trees, which made it difficult for angels in flight to spot life on the ground. When Castiel's boots sloshed through a shallow creek, he gave it no mind. The balmy air of summer swept up from the south, making nighttime warm enough to hike without jackets in spite of being close to Canada. Moonlight dappled the narrow deer path ahead, although Castiel's angel vision didn't need extra light. He forced his vessel's pupils open wide the way a cat drew in light to move seamlessly in the dark.

The woods opened into a narrow meadow bordered by another branch of the creek he'd just crossed. It was as good a place as any, he decided. The risk of being overheard by The Order occurred to him as he stepped into the center of the meadow but he was armed and so were the angels left in the quarantine building. Under Demiel's leadership, they wouldn't breach the warding defenses she'd put in place. Chances were higher that they had no idea where Castiel had hidden the nest anyway.

A deep breath fortified Castiel's vessel but it didn't silence the prideful voice inside from going bitter toward asking Gabriel for help. His nest needed him though. As long as he kept the image of his feverish fledgling close to the surface of his thoughts, he could do it.

Castiel sank to his knees in the wet grass. Rain soaked through his jeans but that was the most common way he'd seen humans pray before he lived among them. Suddenly he wished Molly was well enough to be there with him since she was the most religious human he knew. She would know how to do it, how to make that connection with the celestial unknown. With his hands pressed together, he considered what to say.

"Gabriel....." he began with a halting sound at the back of his throat. "Um... Gabriel. I'm praying to the archangel Gabriel for help with my sick child. Please come to me and ... uh ... give me your divine guidance in our time of need." The prayer sounded ridiculous and he didn't feel like he was making any kind of connection to the divine. He began to understand what Dean saw in Molly's faith - emptiness and lack of reward. Human faith was never something he thought about in depth and he couldn't understand how their prayers ever reached his ears. But then he thought about all the times Dean prayed to him. He'd felt the hunter's faith, hadn't he? And there was nothing special in what Dean said - no magic words or antiquated biblical language. Castiel started again. "Gabriel it's me. It's ... Bean. I'm down here lost with a lot of sickness on my hands and I don't know what to do. It's going to get worse if I don't stop it. I need help. I need you." He swallowed hard as if blocking the words from creeping back down his throat. "Amen, I guess. Amen."

After a moment of silence and his sharp hearing trained on the smallest wilderness sounds, Castiel opened one eye and then the other. He didn't see anything different about the meadow. It didn't seem to work, he thought, arms dropping at his sides. Dejection began to fill his thoughts as he pulled himself off the ground again. Of course he could do a summoning spell on Gabriel but any kind of magic would have attracted The Order's attention. Prayer was the most clandestine way to go about it. But a summoning might be necessary in any event. He sighed, thinking of how much time he'd waste going back to his home where The Order thought he was so he could do the summoning there without leading them to the nest's hiding place. They were depending on him.

He swept the wet grass from his legs and turned, ready to retrace his steps and not at all ready to tell Dean the attempt failed. In the distance, just inside the tree line, a column of white skin glowed in a shaft of moonlight. Castiel stopped, startled at first, but then his heart beat faster when he made out the shapes of enormous wings arching high over the man's head. Familiar wings. Gabriel's wings.

Once he was sure it wasn't an illusion created to trap him, Castiel approached. He still had no idea what to say and the lack of a smile or an easy joke from Gabriel had him somewhat unnerved. Humor was such an intrinsic part of Gabriel's being that seeing him there looking back at him through such still features jolted Castiel into unfamiliar territory. He was used to being overly practical. It always fell on him to make up for Gabriel's inability to be serious when he was a young angel under the archangel's care. He'd been obedient and pleasing where Gabriel had been jovial and ridiculous. Now facing a celestial monarch in the dark of night who bore the weight of unexpected responsibility left Castiel second-guessing the father figure he thought he knew so well. Perhaps Gabriel absorbed more than he let on during Castiel's youth. Perhaps his flippant attitude was always a mask covering something much deeper.

"I think this is a first for us," said Gabriel when Castiel got close enough for them to speak without raising their voices too much.

"How do you mean?"

"You've never prayed to me before, Bean."

"I've never prayed to anyone before," Castiel admitted. He glanced around the woods. "Did you come here without your guard?"

"Yep."

Castiel slid his eyes back to Gabriel and studied the strain in his features. "The crown is getting heavy, isn't it?"

"They won't be happy I left without telling anybody." Gabriel shrugged. "My kid needs me. Whattya gonna do?"

A noncommittal hum rolled around Castiel's throat as he took measure of the archangel who raised him. Every cell in his being wanted to hate and spit and cry out at the injustice of the secrets between them piling up like bricks forming a wall. An abandoned fledgling was no laughing matter, just as it was among human children. He'd had a sister. There was another the entire time - someone he could have bonded with after Gabriel disappeared. But the trickster had robbed him of that too. The facts cycled through his mind over and over again until he clenched his fists at his sides and fed off the anger. Resenting Gabriel meant he wouldn't have to be abandoned again.

"Focus, Bean. Right here." Gabriel snapped his fingers. "You need my help. What's happening?"

Castiel took a breath and shifted his focus from resentment to his child's face. "The Order has brought disease to my nest."

"Disease?" Gabriel's eyebrow arched.

"Well, you ought to know about it. Limaneal stole samples of the mutated influenza from Heaven. Don't you remember?"

The skeptical eyebrow fell and Gabriel's eyes clouded. "I didn't know it was her. I didn't think the theft was related to this rebellion. The influenza was stolen almost a year ago."

"They've been biding their time, it seems."

"Your whole nest is sick?"

Castiel nodded. "Every last fledgling. Several humans have been infected as well. One or more of them specifically targeted Molly. We have her with the other infected ones in a quarantined building to keep the thing contained. It's an hour's walk from here."

Some time passed as Gabriel turned it over in his mind. He said nothing for a drawn out period until the silence nearly drove Castiel insane.

"What should I do?" Gabriel finally asked.

"You're asking me?" Castiel blasted back. "You're the King of Heaven! You're supposed to be my father! I prayed to you and brought you here even though I'd rather punch you in the throat because my nest is in deeper trouble than I can understand, and you ask me what you should do? Be a father! Be a grandfather! Be a king! Assert your power and say no more! Fix my family before I lose them!"

"I don't know how!" shouted Gabriel, cutting him off. "I can heal a sick human but I don't know how to heal an infected angel! No one does! The ones who knew are long dead thanks to dear old Dad and big brother Lucifer!"

The ground seemed to drop out from under Castiel as he stood there looking into the mystery of raw fear in an archangel. He never counted on Gabriel being utterly uneducated in the mutated influenza or any other problem Castiel might have laid at his feet. It was at that moment that he realized he did in fact look up to Gabriel the whole time, even in the centuries of silence. He truly thought if something dire occurred, Gabriel would know what to do. Every father was supposed to have all the answers. But Castiel was a father now too and he didn't know what to do either.

Scrubbing a hand over his face revived him enough to say, "You know how to heal a sick human. I tried but I'm not powerful enough. Let's start there. You can try to help Molly and the baby. There are other humans too. People who were living in her building. The Order released the disease into the water pipes."

"I--."

"--Gabriel, I'm begging you. Please come. Try. Just don't run away this time. You owe me that much. You owe James and my unborn child that much."

*****

Oil lamplight flickered on whitewashed walls as Sam cradled Noah in his arms. They all said Noah hadn't developed as fast as the other fledglings - whatever that meant - but now Sam was worried being behind schedule might spell out the little guy's demise. His weary eyelids felt like sandpaper every time he blinked but he didn't want to fall asleep until an angel came to relieve him. Noah had been crying every time they put him in bed. He wanted the warmth of a body in spite of his high fever.

"I was a little guy too," Sam whispered to the fledgling asleep against his chest. "Kids at school used to pick on me and beat me up sometimes but my brother always took care of it. I grew up to be bigger than him. Maybe you'll grow up to be bigger than all of your cousins too."

A breeze carried the scent of rain into the quarantine building, making the flames flicker against their wall sconces. Sam pulled his attention away from Noah and narrowed his eyes at the room and trained his ears on the smallest disturbances. They were well hidden. Castiel had assured him of that when the medic angels refurbished the building with just the power of their graces. Still, he was worried. Hadn't Castiel drilled it into their heads before that using grace left traces on the atmosphere that other angels could detect? He adjusted the quilt around the little bundle in his arms as if it would shield him from danger. The open windows allowed fresh air into their little makeshift hospital but they left Sam feeling insecure and unprotected. But when Demiel and Hetanel didn't stir from their rocking chairs, he began to relax a little. Across the room, Dean had fallen asleep while holding James' hand. He didn't dare make a sound. Dean hadn't slept since the influenza struck.

Sam needed to stretch his legs or he'd soon be asleep too. He slid Noah back into his little bed as carefully as he could without causing him enough pain to wake him. When Demiel met his eyes, he pointed to the floor above and she nodded.

The back stairs had been there since the building was constructed. Absent thoughts about its history flitted through his mind, pointing to its scattered and distracted state. Carrying sick people up to the second floor over such a steep nineteenth century stairwell had been rather difficult but the angel medics had insisted on keeping the angels and humans separated. Arturial and Sholitziel seemed to have taken charge of the entire nest since they had arrived the night before but no one had questioned it. If Castiel trustee them, Sam supposed he should trust them too, but his nerves were wrung out with so much sickness around him. He needed to get his hands on the rebellious angels responsible for infecting their children. He needed to break some necks. How dare they think they could do something so horrendous to innocent children?

Upstairs, much the same scene greeted Sam as below. The faint odor of feverish sweat seemed stronger from the grown humans than the little ones downstairs. He spotted Arturial and Sholitziel each leaning over Molly's bed.

"What's happening?" Sam asked quietly as he approached.

"We're trying to keep the fever down since she's pregnant," said Arturial as he draped a wet rag over her chest. She. Castiel had said something about that angel preferring to be a female. She spoke again. "The fetus is safe so far. It's simply a chore keeping the fever under control since a gestating human cannot take most medications. We're doing it the old way with cold rags to draw it down slowly as to avoid shocking her system."

"You can't heal any of these people with your angel powers?" asked Sam dubiously.

Sholitziel picked up the questions. "No. It's the same mutated virus as the fledglings have downstairs. It was designed to resist healing by grace. We believe the part that attacks angelic grace actually attacks the central nervous system in humans. I'm conducting tests. But do tell Castiel and his human that the gestating woman is safe for now. She appears quite ill, of course, but we are preventing her condition from worsening."

"Dean. Cas' husband is named Dean. And this is Molly. She's carrying a child so they could have a family," said Sam in a darkened tone. He hated the way angels reduced humans to mere animals even when they were trying to be helpful.

"Yes, of course."

As they spoke, Molly began tossing her head from side to side on her sweat-soaked pillow. Dark hair stuck to her forehead and cheeks in matted clumps. In spite of the pregnant swell of her belly, she looked wasted in the face with hollow cheeks and eyes rimmed in dark shadows. A weak arm reached out to Sam. He grasped her hand and leaned down so she could see him in the dim room.

"Dean?"

"No, darlin. It's Sam. I'm his brother, remember?"

Molly nodded faintly. "The baby...."

"The baby's all right," Sam assured. "You will be too. We've got good doctors looking after you and you're in a safe place."

"There were people," she said as if she hadn't heard him. "I saw strangers in the basement when I took my laundry to the machines. I couldn't make sense of why they were wearing hooded capes. Black hoods." Molly paused to work the muscles in her throat into a swallowing motion. "Castiel - he told me. Told me what he is. Told me to be careful. I was afraid of the hoods."

Sam held her hand. "Did they say anything?"

"No. Not to me. They spoke a different language. I tried to leave. Turned around and hurried. Door slammed shut without people touching it." Molly's forehead creased as her fear resurfaced. She began to wheeze as her breathing grew rapid. "Told me .... they told me to get away. Angels in town are evil. They spread pestilence among people. God isn't here anymore, they said. Couldn't imagine Cas being evil. I said so. One of them got angry and struck my face. That was a woman. The other one got antsy like her hitting me wasn't supposed to happen. Then they disappeared. Just like that. Gone. By nighttime I was sick. Why would they try to convince me angels are evil?"

"Well, there's a rebellion going on in Heaven right now and Cas is trying to stop it," replied Sam, measuring his words carefully.

"Like when Lucifer fell?"

"Something like that."

"Dear God," Molly whispered. Her eyes rolled back and she shut her eyes, overcome by fatigue.

"Don't worry. You're safe here." As Sam spoke in soft tones, he smoothed back her hair. She was carrying his niece or nephew. That made her family in his eyes. "We won't let anything happen to you. Just rest now. I gotta tell Dean what you saw but I'm only going downstairs. These guys here are doctors. They're taking good care of you. I'm sure Dean will be up to see you after you've slept some more."

With a quick nod to Arturial and Sholitziel, he retreated to the back stairs again. There wasn't much valuable information in Molly's story but it pointed to direct anger at Castiel for some imagined slight. If Molly could describe what the angels looked like, that would help a lot.

"Dean?" he said as he came down the stairs. "Dean, I just talked to Molly. She was awake for a minute."

The older Winchester brother blinked away the sleepiness from his brain and sat upright in the rocking chair. "What?" He directed the question at Sam but his eyes darted to the fledgling lying bandaged in the bed at his side.

"She saw a couple of the angels who did this," Sam said.

Before Sam had a chance to explain himself, the door at the front of the building flew open and shut. Two sets of footsteps and low murmurings drew Sam's attention from his brother. Both of them charged toward the front room ready to fight whoever entered their hiding place. There stood Castiel and Gabriel each washing their hands at the stainless steel sinks. Stunned, Sam felt his jaw hang open while Dean reached for Castiel and embraced him from the side. They weren't much for affection in front of other people but Castiel nuzzles him back, of course, without touching him with newly washed hands.

"I convinced him to try and help," Castiel said.

Both Winchester brothers peered at Gabriel as he dried his hands on a paper towel.

"Try being the word of the day," the King of Heaven said. "Show me where the pregnant lady is. I'll start there."

[walterluff]

Thoughts on Cycling with Kids During Lockdown

  Thoughts of a parent who cycles. 

  I am not really a ‘bike-ride’ kind of person. For me, my bike is a brilliant but practical means of transport. I cycle to get places – work, shops, school and nursery, but now that our usual routines have stopped, the bike takes on a new role.

  We have been told by Boris Johnson that we can go out for exercise once a day and cycling is allowed. Jenny Harries, the Deputy Chief Medical Officer, even suggested cycling as a good way to get kids out for exercise without mixing with other children.

  So the bike becomes a vital vehicle for freedom and fresh air, our family P.E. lesson and a way to let off steam during this period of social isolation.

  I don't profess to be an expert on cycling during a global pandemic, but as a parent and a cyclist – and like so many of us trying to adapt to our new reality – I have a few thoughts on cycling and social distancing with your kids.

  Getting Ready

  1. Kids grow and a bike that they were cycling on a month ago can quickly become too small. This will make it harder and less enjoyable for them to ride. But a quick thing you can do is raise their saddle and handlebars. My daughter just turned 11 and has shot up recently so we adjusted her saddle using an allen key. 

  2. If you've not been out on your bikes for a while, you may need to set aside some time to check them over. A good way to start is an A, B, C check.

  A. Air: Are the tyres pumped?

B: Brakes: Push the bike forward and check both brakes work

C: Chain: Lift the bike off the ground and spin the pedal to check the chain is on correctly and not making weird noises.

  Depending on the age of your children, they might be able to help you pump the tyres, oil the chain and give their bikes a good clean. They may just prefer to watch Netflix while you do it but here's hoping. Here’s a guide to cleaning and lubing your bike. Bike maintenance can be another lesson you add to the curriculum.

    3. Think about your route before you go.

  Don’t just set off and see where you get to, plan a route that you are familiar with. You want it to be as safe and stress-free as possible. I saw a family yesterday just doing curcuits of a quiet surburban square: simple, safe, local and fun. Perfect. 

  I have already majorly 'mum-failed' with two of my bike rides. One went through a park with a closed playground and my two-year-old was beside herself that we couldn’t stop and go in. My next bright idea was to go to a lovely open track through a farmer's field – beautiful views and lots of space – BUT we had to go past my 11-year-old’s school to get there. For an emotional Year 6 who misses her friends, this was hard, but at least it gave her a chance to have a little cry and a cuddle.

Everyone's situations and areas are different but sometimes keeping it simple is best. 

  4. Keeping a safe two-metre distance from others.

  Whilst the roads are definitely quieter, there are others out taking strolls and walking dogs, and the places you expect to be quiet may not be because everyone has had the same idea as you. 

  We have adopted a new system of ‘wait & greet’. If we see anyone coming towards us and we do not think we can pass them safely, we simply stop and wait, say hello from a distance and then carry on once they have passed. It’s actually quite fun and sociable. Be sure to brief your kids on the system before you set off. 

5. Road safety – While roads are quiet, this is a good opportunity to build up your older children’s confidence and skills at cycling on roads. Have a look at our guide to commuting for more cycle safety.

  Remember to cycle a metre from the kerb. Be constantly aware of traffic around you. If you are cycling with your other half, it works well to have one parent in front, kids in the middle and the other parent at the back. And always stop safely when you get to a junction or the end of the kerb and discuss what to do next. Communication is key.  

If you do not feel confident taking your kids on roads, don’t take the risk – cycle slowly on the pavement while being fully respectful of pedestrians, and try to find off-road routes. My daughter and I have a system where she cycles on the pavement and I cycle on the road next to her. This works quite well for a suburban saunter.

  6. Get small children on a seat on the back or front of your bike. Read a guide to getting your baby on board. But it’s not just babies. I cycled with my daughter on my bike in a child seat until she was six. It's a great to get out as a family if you have little ones and bigger ones.

My toddler insisted on carrying a large green Lego box with her throughout our entire ride. Perhaps not best parenting practice to let her, but what I am learning durng this crisis is to pick your battles and let them do the little things that make them happy. And to be fair, she didn't drop it once. 

When you get back, spray some antibacterial solution on your gloves, wash your hands and sit down for that cup of tea, which you will enjoy all the more for your trip out. Happy Cycling & Stay Safe. 

  This article is based on current government advice that we can go out locally for exercise once a day alone or with members of our household as of 3rd April. Please check the government's website for updates and changes.

  Thoughts on Cycling with Kids During Lockdown syndicated from https://throttlebuff.blogspot.com/

[anthonykrierion]

Customer Theory: How to leverage empathy in your marketing (with free tool)

Think about every marketing message you saw yesterday. Every newspaper ad. Every email. Every sign being twirled around on the side of the street.

Did you stop to read each message? Watch every commercial? Think about the message? Decide if you should go for the call-to-action?

No you didn’t, did you? You ignored the vast majority of the messages. A few you actually noticed and rejected. You consumed less of them. And maybe acted on a handful.

And the reason is, when you saw most of those messages, you probably weren’t waiting to be sold. You were busy doing something else. Maybe something related. At best you were probably looking for a solution to a problem. Or maybe something totally unrelated and didn’t even notice the message.

Now flip the script. That’s how you act as a customer, but when you’re the marketer, account executive, copywriter, art director … how do you approach each piece you create? You likely have a deep understanding of the product, the copy, even little details of the ad. Perhaps even a deep affection for the product, the landing page or the ad — after all, many marketers end up entering their work into awards shows because they’re so proud of it.

Bridging the customer-marketer divide

As a marketer, you need to do the seemingly impossible. You need to bridge this divide for your entire team. The divide between the customer and the marketer.

I found myself in this very situation recently while working on a video script for The BairFind Foundation, a nonprofit that uses sports marketing to raise awareness for missing children. MECLABS Institute has taken BairFind on, pro bono, as a Research Partner to use our conversion optimization methodology and practices, which we usually apply to business challenges, to help this nonprofit meet its own goals.

BairFind has signs in 151 Minor League ballparks across the nation, with pictures of missing children. It was recently featured in USA Today. League and team presidents were hungry for a video to play in their stadiums about the nonprofit organization, and it was my job to deliver.

So this was a quick-turnaround project, and I had little familiarity with the intended audience of the video. Ever find yourself in this situation? Here’s something that might help …

Free customer theory development tool

I took what I learned from  University of Florida/MECLABS Institute Communicating Value and Web Conversion graduate certificate program and began to build a customer theory dossier. I’ll show you how I used it in just a moment, but first — you can download a free version of it as well, and use it as a tool on your next ad, campaign or marketing initiative.

FREE CUSTOMER THEORY DEVELOPMENT DOWNLOAD

Step 0: Identify as many distinct customer profiles as necessary

Before you can even start building a customer theory, you must determine which type of customer you’re building that theory for.

Here’s why this pre-step is so important. If you’re building an ad or other marketing pieces with a strong, unique value proposition, it will speak very directly to a specific type of customer. Boom. Hit them square in the chest, so to speak.

You can’t do that if you try to be everything to everyone, if you’re blandvertising.

This is also important. While there are certain types of customers you shouldn’t try to serve because you aren’t the best solution for their needs, there are other types of customers you can serve.

Some marketing communications will speak to all those types of customers at once. But more likely, for most of your marketing campaigns, you’ll want to zero in on as unique and homogeneous a group as possible.

As an example, here are the possible customer profiles I listed for BairFind Foundation.

Parents at a Minor League Baseball game

Grandparents at a Minor League Baseball game

Children at a Minor League Baseball game

Adults with no children at Minor League Baseball game

Marketer from a retailer or other potential corporate sponsor

Minor league team presidents

MiLB league presidents

Marketers at MiLB teams

MiLB baseball players

Sports and other local and national media

For the video script, I chose to focus on parents at a minor league baseball game. If you watch the video (embedded at the bottom of this article), you can see why that choice is important. I sought to grab their attention from the very beginning and hit them hard with something they could easily relate to.

I couldn’t have done that if I tried to write a video for all 10 of BairFind’s customer profiles. Even just adding a second customer profile would have made that harder.

This doesn’t mean that customers in those other profiles won’t be able to understand and perhaps act on the video. But it means I wrote the video with those specific people in mind.

Step 1: Create a list of preliminary customer insights

For my selected prospect profile, I began to list out some basic insights about the ideal customer — parents at a Minor League Baseball game.

I started with my own gut and intuition, and expanded using some basic internet research. This was, of course, a very small project. And a pro bono one at that. But if you have a larger, higher profile project, you might want to conduct deeper research to get these insights — social listening, focus groups, interviews, surveys, etc.

It helps that I’m somewhat in this demographic. (I am a parent, although the last time I attended a MiLB game was before I became a parent.) But this exercise is all the more important when you’re not in the target customer profile. Marketers often fall into the trap of “I’d want this” or “I’d want that.” But if you’re not the ideal customer for that product, the actual customer might want something very different.

So this tool helps you get as close as possible to a fundamental insight — not what you’d want if you were in the customers’ shoes, but what the customers in those shoes actually want themselves.

Here are the insights I came up with:

Parents age 21-54

Have children 0-16

Limited external funds for entertainment

Focused on having fun at the ballpark, not really thinking about other issues at that time

Family oriented

Diverse level of education

Diverse ethnicities

Don’t have much additional spare time to help community

More likely than the general population to have smartphones

Community minded

Step 2: Categorize these preliminary insights

Next, categorize these preliminary insights into attributes, context, desires and fears. As you do this, it will likely inspire you and your team to come up with new insights you hadn’t considered before.

The context is an important reminder. For example, you may view a print ad in isolation, nicely mounted on a piece of blackboard. However, the customer will view the ad in a newspaper with many competing articles and ads trying to get their attention. In addition to what’s in the newspaper, they may be reading in a crowded coffee shop or subway, or perhaps they’re at home with children who are trying to get their attention.

In this case, we would view the video in a studio on a nice hi-def superwide Apple monitor with superb audio speakers. However, the customer may be viewing it on a washed-out screen in a noisy stadium between innings.

In addition to the context, it’s important to understand your ideal customers’ desires and fears. We all move toward pleasure and away from pain. What are they trying to achieve? What are they trying to avoid?

You’ll note in my example below that not everything I included directly relates to the BairFind Foundation, missing children or the call-to-action. It’s very easy for us as marketers to only focus on what we want customers to do, or the tiny sliver of their life that relates to our product or ask.

However, real human beings aren’t two dimensional. And their experiences in life are much broader and deeper than just those that relate to your product.

And at the end of the day, all those perceptions ultimately affect how they regard your message. After all, as the Talmud says, “We do not see things as they are. We see things as we are.”

Attributes (Demographic Characteristics)

Ages 21-54

Diverse education level

Diverse ethnicity

Moderate household income, however, 29% HH income $100K+

78% own home

Context

Family of four can see ballgame for $62

Some fans attend just a few games per year; some are season ticket holders

Between innings, they are distracted

Receive many promos throughout the game

Children will be going back to school soon

Likely watching on a washed-out screen in a noisy stadium

Common Desires (Moves Toward)

Experience budget-friendly entertainment

Create happy memories together

Be a part of the community

Be the hero to their kids

Be a good parent

Be an upstanding member of the local community

Relax with family

Escape pressures of life

See a future big leaguer

See the local team win

Have a story to tell their friends the next day

Watch the mascot do something funny

Common Fears (Moves From)

Something bad will happen to my children

I can lose my job, and I won’t have enough money to support my family

The home team will lose

Will my kids throw a temper tantrum if I don’t by them cotton candy at the game?

Crowds and traffic leaving the game

Violence will come to my country/my town/this baseball game

Will this game get rained out?

If I text a donation, will I be continually sent text messages

What if I think I know the missing kid, tell the cops, but I’m wrong

Will my kids need a nap at the game?

Step 3: Unanswered questions about the prospect

Generate a list of the most important unanswered questions about the customer’s identity and behavior.

Unanswered Questions about the Prospect (Parents at a Minor League Baseball game)

Will they be too distracted to pay attention to a video between innings?

Will the donate message make them more or less likely to look at the sign?

Do they understand how to text to donate?

Is $2 the right amount to ask them to donate?

Is a video the right way to ask them to donate?

Would they refer a friend to donate?

These first three steps are part of the MECLABS Seven-Step Customer Theory Development Framework that is taught in the University of Florida graduate program. The full framework also includes conducting experiments to build a robust customer theory discovered from customer behavior to answer some of these questions.

In the case of this project — a simple video for a nonprofit — we were unable to go full on through all seven steps and conduct experimentation. However, I still find this step helpful because it instills humility as part of the process. As much as you have certain assumptions about the customer, it forces you to admit there’s still a lot you don’t know.

It also doesn’t hurt to look back at these questions when you’re working on the next project, see what the results of the previous project were, and continue to build a base of knowledge about the customer.

Getting everyone on the same page

In addition to helping the creators of the advertisement (copywriters, art directors, video producers, etc.) get in the minds of the customer, this tool helps everyone working on the project — from an account coordinator to the vice president of marketing, on the agency side and the client-side — get on the same page about which customers will (and won’t) be talked to and what is important to those customers.

This can help reduce rework, and lay the groundwork for successful creative pitches to clients.

Which is what happened in this case. After I filled out the Customer Theory tool, I sent it over to Dennis Bair, Founder, The BairFind Foundation. I asked him for his perspective on the ideal customer as well, before writing the first word in the script.

Once I was able to incorporate his insights, I wrote a script and sent it over to Dennis, and he loved it, providing only minor feedback. Here’s the result:

It’s just an example of how successful copywriting is about so much more than just great writing. So much fantastic writing never sees the light of day because it never gets the green light.

Successful copywriting requires customer intimacy, but it requires client intimacy as well. Get on the same page with everyone you must collaborate with, and have the client share their key insights about the customer before you begin the creative process.

And the same is true in reverse if you’re on the brand side. Be proactive and make sure your internal or agency creatives have the same understanding of the customer as you do. As Sun Tzu has said, “Every battle is won or lost before it’s ever fought.”

If you’d like that free tool to use with your own clients, agencies and marketing projects, here it is again …

FREE CUSTOMER THEORY DEVELOPMENT DOWNLOAD

You can follow Daniel Burstein, Senior Director, Content, MarketingExperiments, on Twitter @DanielBurstein.

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    Customer Theory: How to leverage empathy in your marketing (with free tool) was originally posted by Video And Blog Marketing