#like girl by fitting them into father son boxes you are actively making their relationship imbalance Worse

[welcometoteyvat]

jing yuan and yanqing are giving zhongli and xiao if the latter’s canon relationship was Actually fanon’s made up father figure/adopted child dynamic

[stonewallsposts]

16 personalities questions: 16-18

Going through these in a more in-depth way gave me the idea that when I finish all these questions, I'm going to go back and use these answers to give more thoughtful responses to where I am on the spectrum of each statement. Then I'll plug those into the quiz and see if it gives me a different personality type than the ENFP-A that I originally got. As I mentioned, I was so closely in the middle that I had assumed I could probably take this on four different days and get four different responses. So it'll be interesting to see where I land after taking this much time to delve into where I fit. But given that I'm doing around three per day, it'll take 20 days total to finish it up, plus maybe another couple to settle Where on each statement's spectrum I fall.  

Anyway, on with the responses.  

16. You enjoy participating in group activities 

In general, yes. I call myself an outgoing introvert, meaning that I enjoy group activities, but eventually I have to get away and be by myself in order to recharge my batteries.  

But I do enjoy getting together with groups of people. 

One of my favorites over the years has been our holiday meetings at my brother-in-law's place. His place has become THE place where I can get together with both my sons. While I talk to my younger son regularly on the phone, and visit him a few times a year in Vegas, and I also get together regularly with my older son, about the only place I see them together is when we all meet for the holiday get-togethers at my brother-in-laws.  

But I love big get-togethers with friends and co-workers as well.  

I had mentioned in a previous section that we have a pretty social office atmosphere. When covid hit back in 2020, and everyone was working from home, my boss was not happy. Our IT guy stayed on premises the entire time. I came back after a month, and a few others came back quickly enough too. 

But as the time stretched on, and people stayed working at home, he was definitely missing the interaction. As we've hired on new people, one of the criteria has been finding someone who is willing to come in. I suppose that selection process has brought in people who are more comfortable socially, but for whatever reason, our office environment is filled with people who like the social aspect. So I love whenever we have parties or office lunches. We regularly gather to chat over things. 

I used to do this at church when I was in leadership, but not anymore. Though we still get together after drive-thru prayer for dinner. Or at least we did last year.  

Anyway, yes, I love group activities. 

17. You like books and movies that make you come up with your own interpretation of the ending 

I think I do. I'm trying to think of some movies or shows that have done this. It's not so much my own interpretation of the ending, but I certainly like shows that make me think. 

I was watching a Korean show called One Spring Night a while back. It's a love story between a young single father, whose ex-wife had deserted him, and an independent librarian who falls in love with him. 

The real hitch, in Korean society, is that he is a single father. Apparently that carries some sort of stigma. People figure there must have been something wrong with him to make his wife leave him, or maybe he just has bad 'juju' that caused the misfortune. Then there is a whole stigma about the woman getting involved with him because she would have to raise a child that isn't her own, which again, is apparently a really big deal in Korean society. All this is complicated by the fact that the girl is in a long-term relationship with a guy who checks all the boxes for marriage material, but who she clearly doesn't connect with, and is feeling increasingly distant. 

When she does finally decide to end it, the boyfriend tries to override this by saying it's not just her decision to make. He goes behind her back to get her father's permission. And then the role of parents in their daughter's decision comes up. The perspective of how both guys match up on the list of marriage material comes into play. 

What made me think was that in the show, this is portrayed as societal pressure. But I was recognizing that here, some of these same pressures are being applied by women on themselves. For example the list of qualifications that many women judge potential mates by, is essentially the same as those employed by the Korean parents. Of course self-imposed restrictions are always more acceptable than those placed on you from outside, so there is that, but at any rate, there was a lot that I found interesting in that show. The role of society and the honor/shame culture that makes it so difficult to go against the grain. 

Another movie that made me think was Munich. The story is about the PLO's killing of Israeli athletes at the 72 Munich Olympics and the subsequent retaliations. The Israeli's decide to retaliate with a series of public executions of the responsible palestinians, with the stated goal that "the world will understand that killing Jews will be an expensive proposition." But then the palestinians begin to hunt the Mossad agents as well and exact even more revenge. The entire scenario brings up questions about following orders blindly, the moral questions involved in doing so. And in particular, it made me think of the Jews entering the promised land and needing to execute the people living there. We know from reading the Bible, that the Lord was finished with the people living in the land, and that they had been given ample time to repent, but hadn't. This judgment was on them for their sins. But the individuals that had to go into those cities and hack down man, woman, and child, didn't have that luxury. They didn't know what the history was, they were merely being told to follow this order, and that if they didn't, there would retribution not only on their heads, but on the entire congregation. That's not an easy thing to swallow. 

I remember the charge that the Israelites gave Joshua- We will listen to you, but only be sure that you are following the Lord.  

There have been a lot of developments over the last 100 years with regard to this. The classic Nazi defense at the Nuremburg trials was that they were 'just following orders'. They had no choice.  

This was overruled in that the sheer moral horror of the acts should have been understood as immoral, regardless of the command structure, and they had, as human beings, a moral obligation to not follow those orders. 

So would I, as a believer, follow an order from God to kill another human? There are all kinds of questions that pop up, I know, but these are the questions that the movie confronted.  

Anyway, yes, I do like books and movies that make me think. The specific statement- do I like such that make me "come up with my own interpretation of the ending"…. I'm not sure I can think of a particular book or movie that has made me do that. 

Perhaps some of the Italian movies, which don’t seem to have 'endings' per se. Their modus operandi seems to be to show a slice of life. Things happen and then the end of portraying the events comes, but there doesn't seem to be a resolution. American movies like to tie things up. Italian movies don't. I guess that's more true to life, but it also doesn't feel as satisfying.  

I'm not sure if this is the kind of thing they are talking about with finding my own interpretation. I decide to google this very thing. Some of the movies they listed, that I had seen were Lost in Translation, Total Recall, Gone Girl, Inception, Blade Runner, the Graduate, and the Prestige. I liked all those movies, so I suppose I do.  

18. Your happiness comes more from helping others accomplish things than your own accomplishments 

Interesting statement. I do love helping other people, and the times I'm most satisfied with in my life have been when helping others. We took in a friend from church who was essentially homeless and kept her dog for 5 months, and then she too stayed with us off and on until she got her own place again. Because of that, we ended up having another lady we knew stay with us for 15 months. She was homeless at the time, and without our help, I'm sure she would have been permanently homeless. She is now back on her feet and doing well. Those were difficult days, but at the same time, some of the things I'm proudest of. Any of the people I've prayed for, and spent time helping, those are moments I wouldn’t trade and I've found them the most satisfying in my life.  

So I suppose that my happiness does come more from helping others, but then again, I wouldn’t be in a position to help them had I not accomplished things on my own too. Or at least it seems that way to me. Perhaps the Lord would have blessed me enough to give out, even had I not been working towards my own accomplishments. 

Back around 2005 or so, I had the opportunity to go to work for Cartoon Network. I was doing freelance work for them on the Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends show, and several of the guys that had been at our studio, had moved on to work full time for CN. I was offered the chance, but chose to remain freelance so that I could continue to devote more time to the ministry work I had been doing. Several of the guys have gone on to better careers because of that move. My freelance work eventually dwindled until I had to give it up altogether and move where I am now. 

I don't know if I would have had a better, more fulfilling work career, but I certainly wouldn't have had as many ministry opportunities as I did. So I have made specific decisions in my life because I wanted to serve others more than myself.  

In the last four years, after having been blessed with more financial stability, I've often wondered if I should have quit freelance earlier and gotten a job. Perhaps I would have been making more, and I certainly would have been in a better financial position, but I'm happy now, I was happy then, so I suppose, while we can always second-guess our decisions, I'm not going to. I'm just going to be content in the circumstances I find myself in and let it be. 

And since the statement was particularly directed towards not just helping others in general, but helping others "accomplish things", maybe I should try to address that as well. I do, when I have the chance, like to see others succeed. I'm not jealous of others accomplishments, I don't get envious when other people are given accolades or recognition. I will offer help to just about anyone that asks me... at least if I know them already. I'm not gonna hand out money to solicitations on the street. But if a friend, or co-worker needs a hand, I'm usually up to help as much as I can. 

The answer to the question then is yes, my happiness comes more from helping others. 

[sambergscott]

your son is going to love you

Summary: Peralta dads are cursed, destined to have terrible relationships with their sons. When Jake finds out *he's* going to have a son, he spirals. Amy helps.

goes without saying that if you haven’t watched 7x10 yet maybe don’t read this

She wakes up at 2am needing to pee.

She’s been waking up needing to pee a lot lately.

It’s like their baby has no respect for her sleeping pattern, perfectly honed over the years to maximise productivity, while still fitting in the full 8 hours of sleep needed a day. Their baby doesn’t care about the 8 hour recommendation, he laughs in the face of scientists. With the bad back and heart burn and constant kick, kick, kicking of her bladder, she’s averaging 4.7. She thought babies didn’t start keeping you up all night until they were born but, oh, how wrong she was.

She pats her husband to wake him up and come keep her company. If she’s awake because of their baby, then damn it, he’s going to be awake, too. But he’s not there, leaving her hand awkwardly patting a bare mattress.

“Jake?” She murmurs groggily, sitting up and switching on her bedside lamp. She’s half-expecting him to be sitting in the armchair playing Mario Party on his Switch (he has become a little bit addicted in the last few months and it wouldn’t be the first time she’s found him trying to beat Wario in the early hours of the morning) or have left a note beside her bed that he had a lead on a case and needed to go in with a scribbled ‘love you’ underneath and a lopsided heart. The armchair is empty, but there’s a light on down the hall and since there’s no way she forgot to turn it off before bed (she triple checks), she figures that it must be Jake.

Forgetting the whole reason why she woke up in the first place, she grabs Jake’s hoodie from the floor for warmth and pads into their living-kitchen-dining area. It’s the open plan-ness that made her fall in love with the apartment upon first visit and submit all her paperwork as soon as she was out the door. It’s the open plan-ness that would make the Property Brothers proud and the dumb people who go on that show foam at the mouth with jealousy. It’s the open plan-ness that allows her to see her husband straight away, snacking on the unfinished party food.

(Apparently people don’t feel like eating after a man cuts his thumb off and spurts blood everywhere. Who’d have thought?)

There’s a weird, pensive look on his face that draws her towards him.

“You OK, babe?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he responds. He pops a tomato from the salad bowl in his mouth, then another, then another.

She narrows her eyes. He never eats tomatoes unless they’re in ketchup or on top of a famous Sal’s pizza. Something is wrong.

She thinks back on their day, mentally rewinding the events from waking up to the morning briefing to their private sex reveal in the break room and finding out they’re having a boy (the empty cake box and blue frosting around Scully’s mouth was very surprising indeed). They were both floating on Cloud 9 all afternoon, came home and Zoomed the entire family, falling asleep on the couch around 9.30pm because pregnancy is exhausting.

Nothing particularly awful stands out.

Unless...

“Are you thinking about your Grandpa?”

He’d been so excited to see him again, so excited to reunite Walter Peralta  with Roger, The Admiral with the Captain. To be honest, Amy was less than impressed. He’d been nice enough to her, asked her about her job, about the baby, small talked about the weather. But he never asked her about Jake, probed about the 20 odd years of his grandson’s life that he’d missed out on. Which is frustrating because she has a lot of embarrassing stories ready to tell and a whole photo album of Jake on her phone. He couldn’t care less about Roger or Jake, storming out of the sex reveal party after calling his son a screw up and turning off his phone so they couldn’t get in contact with him. He’s a selfish dick and her husband deserves better. Still, he won’t be thinking about what a monster Walter turned out to be, he’ll be finding ways to blame himself that yet another father walked out of his life again.

He nods silently and she leads him to the couch.

“Talk to me, Jake.”

He releases a shaky breath. “The Peralta’s are cursed.”

“With devastatingly handsome good looks?” She half-jokes, trying to lighten the mood. Because, hello, her husband is hot; she constantly overhears other women in the precinct talking about his glow up and it would be impossible to ignore the female attention he gets in bars and even just walking down the street before he scratches his face to show off his wedding band and wraps one arm proudly around his wife’s shoulders. She’s seen the pictures of a young Roger Peralta, too, and with that charm smile... she gets it.

“Thank you,” he smiles briefly, “but no. Peralta dads are cursed with terrible relationships with their sons.”

“That’s not going to be you,” she says without hesitation, without a shred of doubt.

“How do you know?” He launches into a scathing personal indictment that leaves his cheeks stinging with tears. “I’m immature, obsessed with my work, messy, always late. My dad was never around when I was a kid. I don’t even know what dads do with their sons! And what if it’s in my genes? To be a crappy dad, abandon my kid like a dozen Peralta fathers before me. Your parents still don’t think I’m good enough. You didn’t even like me at first. It only makes sense that our baby would hate me, too.”

“Woah, babe. Slow down. Let’s unpack that one at a time.” She wipes away his tears with his hoodie sleeve and squeezes his hand. “First of all, you are way more mature now than you used to be. We bought a family friendly Sedan. You read parenting books. You were eating fruit, like, two minutes ago.”

“Tomatoes are fruits?”

“What? Yes, how do you not - not the point.” She shakes her head. “And so what, you enjoy your job. That’s a good thing, Jake! Do you understand how rare that is? You’re doing the thing you love while providing a decent income for our family. And besides, I’m way more obsessed than you. I have FOMOW, but that doesn’t mean I won’t love our kid more than anything. And as for the messy, late thing, if I can look past it because of how much I love you, so will our son.”

“Love you, too,” he mumbles.

“Now onto your point about not knowing what dads do, that is a straight up lie and we both know it, Peralta. You’re always hanging out with Charles and Nikolaj and Lord Knows Terry doesn’t shut up about all the activities he does with his girls.”

“I know what they do when I’m around, but what do you do when it’s 5am and they won’t go back to sleep?” He frets. “At what age do you introduce them to Die Hard? In Cry Hard With A Vengeance,” he quotes the parenting book she originally bought him as a joke but has kind of become his Torah, “Bruce Willis says right away, but what if he’s not ready to understand the complex plots? What if he prefers Timothy Olyphant to William Atherton? Oh my God, what if our son doesn’t think Die Hard is a Christmas movie?”

He’s spiralling and it’s a good job he’s with the only person who can truly calm him down.

“I think Bruce Willis is just trying to promote his franchise and that we’ll be watching more Paw Patrol than Die Hard for the next few years, babe, but I’m sure when he is old enough, he will love the movies as much as you.”

“Right,” he agrees, “you’re totally right. Action thrillers aren’t very baby friendly. I’ll just watch it on mute with subtitles.”

She laughs, her eyes crinkling in the corners. She loves him so much. Which segways them nicely onto his final two points.

“My parents do love you. Sure, they’re critical, but that’s just the way they are. They’re the same way to all of us. My mom complains to everyone she meets about how I can’t cook, how Tony hasn’t settled down and made her any beautiful grandbabies yet, even Perfect David faces her wrath when he goes a week without phoning her. If the worst thing my mom has to say about you is that you’re below average in height, you’re doing OK. And as for me apparently not liking you at first, I did like you.”

He furrows his brow. “But you said you found me annoying and difficult to be around.”

“Yet I didn’t ask to switch desks, continued working cases with you and went to Shaw’s whenever I was invited.” She stares at him pointedly. “If I really found you difficult to be around, I wouldn’t have stayed. I thought you were cute and funny and good at your job and yeah, you were annoying too, but,” she shrugs, “it never put me off.”

“So what you’re saying is that you had a crush on me first,” he grins.

“No. You obviously had a crush on me back then, too. What I’m saying is that I love you, our son loves you and you’re going to be a great dad.”

He blushes, ducking his head. “My dad said the same thing. About our son loving me.”

“He’s right,” she replies. “I feel him kick every time you get home from work, every time you sing to Taylor Swift in the car, every time I mention your name. Why didn’t you believe him?”

“I don’t know, still nervous about the curse, I guess.” He twists his wedding band on his finger.

Amy bites her lip. “Are you not excited about us having a boy?”

She has to ask. His excitement looked genuine in the break room, but it’s no secret that he was hoping for a girl. A mini-Amy, he said. While she’s always been more accustomed to boys considering the Santiago’s have, like, a million of them, Jake couldn’t get over the image of a little girl in dresses and doing ballet and with long, dark hair that he eventually learns to braid.

“Of course I am,” he’s quick to assure her. “Stupid excited. Never been more excited for anything. Not even the Ninja Turtles reboot. But still... nervous.” He rubs his hand over his face, muffling his voice. “Everyone is assuming what kind of dad I’m going to be. Whether I’m going to be good at it or not. To be fair, the only person who doubted me is that murderer I arrested last week, obviously not my biggest fan. Everyone else is convinced I can do it. What if I can’t? What if I’m genetically wired to be a bad dad? What if I disappoint you and our baby and Charles who has been dreaming about this forever?”

“Jake,” she softens her voice, pulling his hand away from his face, “the fact you are so worried about being a bad dad proves that you will not be one. Nor could you ever disappoint us.”

“But you’re my wife. You have to say that.”

“I would never have married you and become your wife if I thought you were the kind of person who could abandon your kid,” she promises him. “You have been perfect so far, dealing with all the vitamins and over-scheduled sex and washing my clothes when I sweat through them and holding my hair back when I’m being sick. You’ve been to every doctor’s appointment, read every binder, bought me every weird food craving. You hang out with the bump every night, talking and singing to it. I know you’re going to be a great dad, Jake, because you already are one.”

She kisses him and it’s soft and tender and filled with love, only interrupted by the kick, kick, kicking of their son.

“Hey,” Jake says in his best authoritative dad voice/John McClane dealing with German terrorists voice (he’s been practising in front of the mirror following Bruce’s advice), pointing a warning finger at the bump. “I’m going to kiss your mom as much as I want, Peralta. I loved her first.”

Amy giggles, stroking her fingers through Jake’s unruly curls. His bedhead is always wild and it’s maybe her favourite thing in the entire world. She silently sends a message of her own to their son to inherit his dad’s hair. And eyes. And handsome smile.

He kicks again as if to say ‘OK, mom’.

And then she really needs to pee.

[seovienrose]

♡ mingyu oneshot | mother ♡

a/n: best listened with mother by charlie puth. this is like funny fluff but maybe little angsty at the end. words count: 1329 words

warning: kinda suggestive!

♡♡♡♡ happy 5th anniversary to seventeen! ♡♡♡♡

“Hi, my name is Mingyu. I am your daughter’s classmate. The president of football club, I did volunteering jobs in few places and happened to know her close through the volunteering activities. Your daughter is very lovely ma’am.”

Your mother and Mingyu had long chats while Mingyu took out a box of herbal tonics from his paper bag. Your mother’s interest is piqued with this kind and altruistic behaviour.

“What’s this?”

“A get to know gift. My mother enjoys herbal tonics and I’d thought you guys would love this too.”

and there you go, Mingyu secured himself a date and affection from his girl’s parents. But it’s actually more than that.

He's such a nice boy, so well-mannered

He's so much better than the last one you brought around

Mingyu had always give good guy impression to everyone he meet. He has the ability to charm people suprisingly. When you brought him to your parents’ house in the middle of summer, they loved him. Your mother preferred him better than Junhui. But little did they know Mingyu is more vicious than Junhui.

“You know what kid, I can see Mingyu in our family.”

You freaked out, almost choked. “Mom? Are you like indirectly saying you like Mingyu as a son-in-law?”

“He’s considerate! He has this maturity. Look at all the endless gifts he keeps giving? Sensible with elders.” your mother rolled her eyes, “Junhui was too childish for you anyway. Glad you broke up with him.”

You smiled.

Mingyu told that he has been eyeing you since you were dating Junhui. He got jealous sometimes seeing you with him and couldn’t find courage to talk to you. When he heard Junhui had to transfer school, he was absolutely delighted. Mingyu said he liked you since the day you helped picking up papers for him, you didn’t even remember it though.

The moment she walks out that door

I'm not pretending anymore

Mingyu’s eyes turned dark with the sight of you walking so gracefully to his truck donned in lacey blouse, long skirt and braided hairtail. He cackled at this pretty sight of you.

“Change.”

When you settled in your seat, Mingyu gave a paper bag. You smiled at him cheekishly.

A body fitting white dress.

Mingyu pulled the band from your hair and ruffled your hair playfully. He edged closer and kissed the top of your head.

Mingyu drove his car and you quickly changed the outfit into the one Mingyu gave.

Mingyu brought you to a club. He greeted everyone he sees while holding you so close to him. This is the first time you ever stepped into the club since all the previous dates before were at “tame” places for proof to your parents.

Then his friends came crowding both of you, some familiar faces and some are not.

“Y/N? That’s you?” Jaehyun asked while looking at your wearing the dress that wrapped your body tight.

You brushed your hair and nodded.

Eunwoo laughed, “This is my first time seeing the nice and lovely Y/N wearing something not like her!”

“He bought it for me and I like it.”

“This dollface is not as innocent as you people thought she’d be.” Mingyu said and you pinched him.

“Don’t tell me you guys—“ DK, with his wine glass almost choked on his drink.

Mingyu nodded his head and looked at you softly, “She leads me.”

Everyone around you were gasping. Mingyu and you guffawed as Mingyu kissed your shoulder softly. 

We've been hiding since the time they forgot to knock

When it’s the early stage of your relationship, your parents will come and monitor what Mingyu and you are doing together in the room. Luck has it they never caught you doing something physical. It’s always the math exercise book, history notes, calculators and stationeries on the table with 1m distance between the two of you.

With these two naive and wild kids together in the room, parents can be quite clueless to leave them and pretend nothing will happen. A lot of time Mingyu has been caressing your stomach and thigh during the study time and the two of exchange small pecks in every break time.

With the luck of never getting caught, more and more physical touch between the two of you have becoming more progressive. One day, Mingyu has been fanning himself because of the hot weather and directed the fan to himself making you scowl.

“If you’re that hot, take the shirt off.”

Mingyu smirked, “you really be telling me that in your parents’ house, young lady?”

“They didn’t bother to check up on us anymore now.” you said while unbuttoning the first two buttons of your dress. You swept your hair to side leaving space for the neck to breath.

Mingyu’s getting hard as his cheeks blushed while watching you do that to him.

“Are we really doing this?”

You nodded and straddled to him, both helping each other out from the fabrics.  You believe he is the one and you want to be with him the rest of life. Mingyu thinks so too.

If your mother knew all of the things that we do

If your mother knew all the things we do

If your mother knew, she'd keep me so far from you

Even if you have 1000 luck, nothing can win against a mother’s intuition. Your mother has become suspicious whenever she sees your cheeks get red from the tension after meeting Mingyu. There is some sort of intoxication she can felt from you. So your mother decided to investigate and put her spy glasses on.

On every Friday night, Mingyu would come to your house to study. He brought an apple pie he made in the evening to your mother which your mother gleefully accepted. But that doesn’t fade away the trust issues she is having towards your boyfriend.

Mingyu went straight to your bedroom with his backpack, not having any damn clue what your mother is up to. Your mother had her ears so close to the door of your room. After 30 minutes listening to mathematical terms coming out from Mingyu’s lecture, there was a long silence. Then, she heard your soft moan and some gibberish words.

“Aah...ah”

“Ahhhh.....”

“ashssdMingyu........”

“Slowly...”

“Aaahhhhhh.....”

So your mother knocked the door which leaves the both of you speechless, faces turning pale white. She unlocked the door with spare key without any time left for the two unfortunate lovebirds. Both of you half naked on the bed. Your mother was gaping and shook her head. Your face turned red and Mingyu kneeled before your mother.

“Mother. I am sorry.”

“Mingyu, what the hell you’re doing with my daughter all this time?!” her eyes seemed furious and she managed to grab a long wooden stick trying to hit Mingyu, “Get the fuck out and stop seeing her!”

Mingyu packed his stuff and ran as fast as he can leaving your house. You cried out and your mother stared at you in bewilderment. 

Next time that she sees me

She gon' act like she don't know me

'Cause she knows all of the story

Now your daddy wants to kill me (ah)

Your mother has forbid you from meeting Mingyu for 6 months until the final term which made both of you in some Romeo and Juliet love story situation. You are able to meet Mingyu in class but under provision of teachers which was like hell to the both of you. You can’t even speak to him. Mingyu felt sorry and he missed you so much.

After months of blocked communications, Mingyu bumped into your mother when going to groceries. Your mother nudged your father while mouthing out something. She turned nonchalantly and pretended she didn’t see you while your father were looking at Mingyu as if he’s going to eat him alive. The best thing Mingyu thought to do is to run from their sight before Mingyu gets eaten alive.

[fuwafuwamedb]

Mother’s Day in Chaldea (Misc, Kiddos, Child Servants)

The child servants and children of Chaldea were on the move, it seemed.

Caster Gilgamesh stood in the doorway of his chambers, watching the little brigade scurry along the hallways, carrying mountains of flowers and boxes along with them. Nursery and a few of the other girls were carrying less, doing the directions.

“We need to hurry,” Meryatum told the others. “Miss Hakuno won’t sleep that long and then she’ll be drinking coffee and ruining her own surprise.”

“Surprise?”

He walked after the group, watching several jump.

Utu and Enkidumaru looked to one another before glancing at Alexander.

“We have to,” the elder boy told them.

There was no reply given to him, no attempts to explain. No, his sons and the young king of conquerors grabbed him and hauled him away from the flower and sweets brigade, hauling him back into his room and slamming the doors shut.

“You want be involved. You don’t count.”

Gilgamesh raised a brow at Utu.

“You’re making him more intrigued,” his elder son, Ur, argued.

“Well, then he should stop thinking about it,” Utu argued.

“Like Slenderman?”

At the strange character name, he could see both Utu and Enkidumaru shivering, moving closer to one another and pulling out tiny bottles.

Ur snorted, “…he’s not a demon, idiots. The being is a supernatural entity immune to Christian doctrine.”

This conversation was going in the wrong direction.

Caster sat up a bit more, looking to the other child in the room.

“I assume that there is some festivity that you are preparing?”

Alexander laughed, nodding. “Mother’s day.”

Ah.

Mother’s day.

Of course…

What on earth is mother’s day?

He could see the boys all shaking their heads, with Ur pulling out a piece of paper from his pocket. Smoothing the thing out, the paper was held before him for his perusal.

“You see, abum, Mother’s Day is a celebration where mothers get an entire day devoted to their great efforts that they put forth. As you can see, we’ve listed our mothers’ favorite things and lined them up for a whole day of activities, but fathers aren’t allowed.”

“You realize that one of the requirements for a mother is a father figure, correct?”

His son nodded at his question. “I pointed that out.”

“And?”

“Hastie and her twin brothers pointed out that their father is a big stress for Jekyll,” Utu countered.

Where to begin: the fact that Jekyll was more the father than the mother in that relationship or the fact that the man may feel insulted if he is referred to as a woman by the children.

Either way, he would be in for quite the argument, considering that the others had been roped into referring to the poor fool as a mother as well.

Caster motioned to his desk.

“I can see that my presence is unwanted right now… May I offer to add to your festivities?”

A series of head shakes met his question.

“I was merely thinking that it might be nice to have fireworks outside. The fathers could set up the fireworks and you all could enjoy being close to your mothers.”

That, of all things, brought the boys into questioning his presence.

“I wouldn’t be involved,” Caster pointed out, patting Ur’s shoulder and motioning for Utu and Enkidumaru to come over. “Archer and the others could join me in preparing the fireworks and we could even take Hastie if she feels so inclined.”

The boys nodded.

“Fine.”

Perfect.

Caster made a show of collection the other father figures, informing them that Gudako had a task with them in mind. The boys did their best not to snicker. Caster did his best to keep Archer involved, commenting here and there that he could always tell Hakuno that he didn’t want to help.

“I do have one task,” Caster told the man, leaning in close and murmuring. He teased as he pulled back, earning a smack and Archer heading off.

The man had the ultimate task: setting up a flashdrive in the monitor system room.

“Why are we gathering here?” Mordred demanded, with all of them finding themselves out in the outpost area of Chaldea, sans kiddos.

“It seems our children have decided that we’re not fit to see to this holiday,” Caster announced, looking at the room. Archer Gilgamesh, Proto Gilgamesh, the collective of Cu Chulainns, Romani/Solomon, Mordred, Waver, and himself; they were all stuck in this banishment.

“They think what?” Mordred growled, cracking her knuckles. “What kind of damn holiday do they think we can join in?”

“Mother’s day.”

Solomon sighed, rubbing at his face. “Why would we be excluded? The concept involves us for them to be considered mothers.”

“We’re with him,” Cu Lancer pointed out. “Those kids wouldn’t exist without us.”

“That’s why Archer and I are involving ourselves and you all in this.”

They watched the monitors, each of them grabbing a laptop that Caster had brought in a bag. The mission was simple: Whenever one of their spouses required something or seemed to have an opening for receiving something, they’d leave a gift. The gates could be used for delivery. The children could no more dodge it than they could expect it.

Gods knew, Utu and Ur tried hard to get the gates blocked, but-

Hakuno received a golden robe for wearing to join the kids for breakfast.

Jekyll received a box to hide Hastie’s latest chemical project when it began to drop to the floor due to the twins surprising the good doctor.

Gudako found a board falling onto the lego pit that Rehoboam had laid out for torturing tiny Goetia. She could avoid stepping on the legos, earning a sigh and a look around for someone nearby from the child and her half sibling, Menelik.

Sheba gave up on the holiday, cuddling her son as jewels rained down on her.

Ishtar jumped into that collection with Deichtine in hand, earning a growl from Rin before the woman tentatively joined.

Things were going well.

The children, although able to give their cute gives and receive their mothers’ unending attention, found themselves sharing the day with them.

Mordred smirked their way.

“So we’re ending today with a bang, right? You said something about fireworks during lunch.”

Caster nodded, glancing back over at Mordred. “Got any ideas about a good explosion?”

Did she ever…

The explosions went off louder than any he’d ever heard before, the colors ranging from the more vibrant of yellows and whites to the deepest blues and purples. She made a realm of sounds and lights, illuminating the night skies. Mordred gave the commands, holding her sword proudly in hand as she demanded more and more chemicals.

Whether or not her knowledge was a wise investment of her time in the grand scheme of things…

Perhaps Uruk needs a knight, Caster thought to himself, listening to the woman demand the next set of fireworks.

The sparks painted the skies for over an hour. The ground around them was coated in charcoal and smoke, leaving them only under the protection that himself and Caster Cu Chulainn had managed. They could feel the silence from the deafening booms, the breeze blowing lightly to bring powdered snow and clean air to them.

“Father!”

Mordred smirked, laughing with the rest of them as they celebrated their own feat.

“FATHER!”

A small figure rushed as quickly as possible towards them, her blonde hair waving in the air. They could see the others running their way, the child in front remaining the only excited one of the lot.

“FATHER! THAT WAS AMAZING!”

Hastie leaped into Mordred’s arms, laughing excitedly.

“You’re the most amazing, knight and king!” Hastie declared, beaming. “Show me how to do that!”

Caster and Archer smirked at their kids, watching Ur and Utu take the lead towards them.

They would pay dearly for interfering in the festivities, but truly-

The whole family needed to be involved in giving a mother a proper day of pampering.  

[mischiefmanagedrp-blog1]

James Potter

james potter. gryffindor. sixth year. quidditch captain. chaser. pureblood.

out of character info

Name/Alias: Samantha Pronouns: she/her Age: 25 Timezone: est Activity:  5-8 Triggers: no kiddie shit or stuff with animals >:( Password: always Character that you’re applying for:  James Potter Faceclaim:  Mikey Murphy Favourite ships for your character: Jily, but until that, James is free for the flirting and the smooching

in character info

Full name: James Potter Birthday:  March 17th Sexuality, gender, pronouns:  bisexual, heteroromantic, not that James knows what any of that is Age: 16

Wizarding World Info

House: Gryffindor Year: Sixth Wand: Mahogany, 11″, thunderbird tail feather Boggart: dead family and friends Patronus: Stag Quidditch Team: Captain & chaser Classes: transfiguration. charms. potions. history of magic. defence against the dark arts. herbology. muggle studies. arithmancy. Clubs: Potions Club, Dueling Club

Detailed Info

Appearance: James is a scruffy looking character, despite his wealth and his pureblood status. He’s spoiled by nature and nurture, so while his robes and other clothes come from fine designers who are eager to dress the Potter family, he often wears them not properly put together. His uniform tie is usually undone, his dress shirt untucked from his trousers. The lone Potter son has mastered the art of how to look like you don’t care, simply because he doesn’t. His hair is already uncontrollable, after all, no matter how much Sleekeazy his parents had used on his head as a child. So James matches that with his fashion sense, aiming to look effortlessly cool while putting in minimal effort. 

It often works in his favour, though perhaps it’s less about his rough and tough (so he thinks) exterior and more the charming grin that’s often on his face. It reaches to his eyes, and James can nearly always be seen with a smile on his face. While his attitude is arrogant and pompous, many overlook it due to his carefree body language and charming smile. 

Fashion sense and mannerism aside, James is fairly tall, just barely brushing past the six foot mark. He intends to keep growing, of course. He’s only sixteen, he’s got his whole life ahead of him. As well, James is slender, built well for his position as a seeker on the Gryffindor quidditch team. Because of practice, doing laps and other exercises to keep his arms, core and legs strong to stay on the broom, he’s a pretty fit lad. He’s not ripped, by any means. There’s not much sense when you’re not a beater, after all. But he’s toned, enough to admire himself in the mirrors when he’s feeling particularly full of himself. In such mirrors, James also likes to fluff up the unruly brown hair atop his head. It’s a mess of waves, and on occasion will fade lighter if his summers are spent on holidays or out in the sun. 

Overall, James considers himself to be an attractive bloke. One of the better ones as far as he’s concerned. But, as Lily’s told him, taste is subjective. (And, she says, she has some, and James isn’t it.)

Personality: Arrogant, pompous, bullheaded. There are many a things about James Potter that could be negative. However, James likes to think of himself not as any of those things. Confident. Proud. Committed. Whatever negative thing about James you have to say, he has a way of turning it to see the positives, even if what you think may be negative. Where an outsider who doesn’t know James may think that he’s boisterous or spoiled, James will turn around and explain that he’s not those things. He’s... energetic. He’s privileged. A lot of this comes from his parents, both Fleamont “Monty” Potter and his wife, Euphemia (or Effie for short) spending all of his upbringing coddling him.

James was a welcomed surprise, after all. His well to due parents didn’t discipline him much, simply falling prey to the charm James had when he came from the womb. He’s bright eyed and full of life, after all. It’s hard to discipline a child who not only has been told he can do no wrong, but who he himself can’t see if he’s done wrong either. 

This leads to complications, of course. James is completely and utterly hopeless when it comes to learning lessons. Detentions offer nothing to him, nor do they really for any of his friends. 

Aside from his overall spoild brat-ness, James can be quite the sweetheart. He’s full of love, and is capable of giving it to almost everyone. A foulweather friend to strangers, James will appear when you’re down in the dumps and go to great lengths to cheer you up, especially if you’ve got a pretty face and a good laugh. While some don’t get this treatment(i.e. Severus, of course), most anyone can experience it. 

As well, James is a bright young man, especially when he uses his energy to apply himself. He’s capable of being a great wizard, as evidenced by various pranks and duels that have landed him and his friends in trouble on many occasion. The problem, his professors say, is that he rarely uses that energy and passion on his school work. 

While James is more than capable of showering those in love and affection, as he was as a child, he’s also a vicious boy. When you’ve wronged him, he’ll never forget it. It explains why his feud with Severus is destined to be lifelong. That, and he’s a bit of a jealous boy. He’s used to getting what he wants, and in the event of, for example, taking a person he wants close to him? Well, James won’t take too kindly and you’ll likely be the butt of much teasing, if not worse. 

Very few people can successfully scold him. Both his mother and father are incapable of doing so, they see no wrong, only their perfect boy. Some who can? Remus Lupin, one of his closest friends who may as well be family. Lily Evans, the love of his life since he had first seen her firey red hair on the boats to the castle in first year. Another being Albus Dumbledore, who has never failed to make James truly think about his actions when he’s being reprimanded by the headmaster. 

History:  Born to Euphemia and Fleamont Potter, James is an only child, and a spoiled one at that. Due to conception at such an age, Euphemia and Fleamont both never had the energy nor care to spend James’ childhood disciplining him. He was a very welcomed, and very loved surprise and both his parents never felt the need to give him any negative parenting. As far as both Potters were concerned, James was an angel, albeit a fireball. 

He amused them with his wild, childhood antics, and overall was a good child for the first eleven years of his life. His closest relationship was with his parents, respecting and adoring them above all else. 

It wasn’t until Hogwarts when James started to develop into the arrogant young man he currently is. He enjoyed the attention that he got, and had little to no trouble quickly becoming popular amongst his peers. Attached at the hip with Sirius Black from day one, the two quickly became some of the favourite students at Hogwarts. Adding in Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew to their social circle only improved their social standing, along with the antics and pranks they started to pull. 

Class clowns, they were called, and James fed off the approval and laughter. Ego growing more and more every day as the attention on him grew. As far as social ranking went, James climbed quickly with his friends, who were quickly called the Marauders. 

As the years went on, James developed more into a young man that everyone wanted to be, be with, or befriend. A quidditch star, a student who challenged his professors and the authorties, who had no problem putting some of the naff students in their place. James had money, blood purity, a good family, an excellent group of friends. With good grades, a charming smile, and a personality that could get anyone (with the exception of a select few), it was no wonder. 

In fifth year is when his ego reached its peak. He and his friends had finally become animagi (a stag, for himself), and his and his friends pull with the other students had him in an ongoing, showoffy feud with Severus Snape and several of the other Slytherins. He had little qualms in teasing, using Snapes own spells against him, humiliating the greasy little git. 

As anything that comes to a peak, his ego has currently been on the downward. Between dragging Snape from the willow to make sure the gobshite didn’t kick the bucket, and Lily putting him in his place despite Snivellus calling her a mudblood, James’ personality has begun to mature. He intends to do better on his NEWTs than he had on his owls, and has made a pact to study a bit more, and fool around a bit less.

But with friends like Sirius, Remus and Peter, and the constant need to impress those around him, whose to say it’ll stay that way?

Sample paragraph:  "She’ll say yes this year, mate. I’ll put a wager on it, even,” James grinned, fluffing up the bouquet of roses he held in his hands. He had a reservation at the tea shop in Hogsmede, like he had made every year since his first. On the table lay a large, heart shaped box of chocolates and a charmed card to sing a love ballad preformed by himself and Sirius. Every year, James offered flowers and chocolates to Lily Evans, asking her to accompany him on a date to town and to be his Valentine.

Every year, Lily said no.

But this year? This was going to be different. He could feel it. Lily had been less hostile the last few months, even so much as cracking a smile at a joke he had made in their charms class when they’d been partnered together last week. “She’s into me, mate. She’s just trying to play it cool.” James insisted, looking down the table in the great hall to see the girl chatting happily to Marlene. 

“Good luck, you big twit,” Sirius said, a look of fondness on his face as he reached over to fluff James’ hair up. James stood after, gathering the chocolates and tables in hand before giving a playful bow. “Gentlemen, a lady awaits my proposal,” he nodded, tipping an invisible hat on his head and getting an eyeroll from Remus on the otherside of the table. 

As he turned, he could hear the three of his mates placing various bets. Ten galleons if Lily kicked or hexed him, apparently. 

Good to know they believed in him. But James would show them. 

Other Information

Headcanons: 

• James has been infatuated with Lily since the first time he saw her. • He’s got a lovely barn owl named Rapier  • Loves muggle disco music Anything of importance: Nope

[bellamy-editss]

Z Legacy Challenge

This legacy challenge is for those who love Dragon Ball Z as much as I do (Or for anyone looking for a challenge). This legacy challenge will have 10 generations based on 10 different characters and colours. Each generation is there to supply everything for the last generation to survive on. Rules: 1. No cheats allowed 2. Adopted children can't been chosen as an heir 3. Heir must use the colour given to them (hair, clothes, etc.) 4. Sims can't be resurrected but you can make a plead with the Grim Reaper 5. Each sim must have a normal life span 6. Must complete tasks to complete each generation 7. Must be living on a 50x40 or bigger lot 8. Spares can live their own lives and expand their families, they don't have to follow the rules of the heir 9. You may move out spare sims or completed heirs if your household becomes full 10. Not allowed to move households until after 5th generation Generation 1: Piccolo (Lime) You are a proud sim who loves being with their family and boxing. You are protective of your family and strict when it comes to your children. Traits: Active, family oriented & loves outdoors Aspiration: Successful Lineage Career: Business - Management branch - master fitness skill - complete business career - adopt 1 toddler boy - adopt 1 child girl (after son has aged to a child) - raise kids to young adults before moving out - get married as an adult - have 2 kids after marriage Generation 2: Yamcha (Peach) Your childhood was great! You had great friends and learned to box from watching your mom/dad. But since high school started, you've loved going on dates and don't plan on settling down any time soon. But just like your parents, you love your children. Traits: Active, bro & non-commital Aspiration: Serial Romantic Career: Athlete - Professional Athlete branch - master fitness and charisma skill - complete athlete career - have a relationship with one male/female (besides ones from the aspiration) - have 3 kids (2 different dads/moms and 1 from boyfriend/girlfriend) - break up with boyfriend/girlfriend as an adult Generation 3: Krillin (Red) Growing up, you never got to spend much time with your siblings because they didn't live with you. You want your family to have what you couldn't have as a child, which is a friend to box with. You want to find love. Traits: Active, good & romantic Aspiration: The Curator Career: Detective - master fitness and singing skill - complete detective career - marry a sim with blonde hair - have 1 child - cheat death twice Generation 4: Gohan (Purple) You always knew that since you were young, you'd have a tough time pleasing your mom. She always wanted your head in the books but your dad wanted you to become the strongest! You're very smart but also a great boxer. Traits: Active, bookworm & good Aspiration: Computer whiz Career: Tech Guru - Start-up Entreprenur branch - master fitness, programming and video gaming skill - complete tech guru career - get an 'A' in high school - meet future wife in high school - reach level 6 of fitness skill before end of teenage span - have 1 child - become best friends with father Generation 5: Cell (Green) Unlike your mom/dad, you saw boxing as something much more than just a sport. You're very competitive and seeing others lose to you in a fight brings you joy. You know it's twisted but having a kind soul isn't something you inherited from your parents. Traits: Active, evil & self-assured Aspiration: Cheif of Mischief Career: Criminal - Boss branch - master fitness, mischief and handiness skill - complete criminal career - have 7 kids with the same sim - be a single parent - try to kill arch enemy but kills self (death from fire) Generation 6: Bulma (Baby blue) You're very different from your mom/dad. You don't want to become corrupted like them and let all that evil take over you. But one thing you want to achieve like your mom/dad did is to let the thing you love kill you. Maybe going to space will kill you, but you'd love to discover different planets and protect them. Traits: Creative, family oriented & genius Aspiration: Nerd Brain Career: Astronaut - Interstellar Smuggler branch - master logic, handiness, and rocket science skill - have 2 kids - marry a hot-headed sim - use woodworking table 15 times - always dress young (fear of aging) - have 3 male best friends - throw 7 parties (achieve a golden medal) Generation 7: Super Saiyan Rosé Goku Black (Pink) You've always looked up to your grandfather/grandmother. I guess their ways skipped a generation and was inherited by you. You want to be just like them. Traits: Evil, mean & self-assured Aspiration: Master Mixologist Career: Culinary - Mixology branch - master fitness, cooking and mixology skill - reach level 7 of culinary career before quitting - have children (max. 4) - die with spouse after eldest child is an adult Generation 8: Broly (Yellow) Your parents molded you to be the person that they wanted you to be. Wicked. Ever since their death, you've wanted to avenge them. To you, this is how it has to be. Traits: Evil, mean & insane Aspiration: Public Enemy Career: Secret Agent - Villain branch - master fitness, logic, charisma and mischief skill - complete secret agent career - during 4th stage of aspiration, be responsible for the death of 3 declared enemies - have 2 kids - spouse dies before eldest child ages to a child Generation 9: Vegeta (Royal Blue) You first start off as stubborn. You think you're a prince/princess. You want to be the best. But what exactly is it that you want to be the best at? Traits: Active, perfectionist & self-assured Aspiration: Renaissance Sim Careers: Athlete, Entertainer, Politician - master fitness, charisma and comedy skill - marry as an adult - have 2 kids - die before youngest child ages to a toddler Generation 10: Goku (Orange) Thanks to every generation before you, they've provided all the resources for you to survive. Now you have the perfect life. Almost. Even though you've lost your father/mother and your grandfather/grandmother, you still remain positive. But working isn't really your thing. You also don't have a relationship with your brother/sister and want nothing to do with them and never thought much about marriage or kids. So the line ends here. Traits: Active, childish & foodie Aspiration: Bodybuilder - master fitness, cooking, fishing, gardening and handiness skill - live with grandparent and uncle - be responsible for grandparent's death - mentor best friend in fitness 5 times - die from old age If you choose, you may have children if you want to continue. I worked hard on this with the help of my brother and his girlfriend. So I hope you all enjoy this and I'd love to see your progress! Happy simming!

[vinewoodfamousarchive]

Here’s Chapter 3 of my GTA V fanfic - which brings us up-to-date with where I’m currently at on AO3.  

Title: The Ghosts You Draw On My Back

Summary:  Charlotte Weston is a reluctant Vinewood actress, doing minor league roles that her grandfather, Solomon Richards, coerces her into. After one too many tantrums by demanding co-stars, she gets fed up – only to find herself talked off of the ledge by our favorite criminal-turned-producer, Michael De Santa. Will he be able to hold up his promise of being a better man, or will each of them fall victim to the Vinewood Dream?

Chapter 3:  Learning How To Smile

------------------------------

It had started out with actually saying 'hello' when they saw each other around the lot, giving a honk if they happened to pass each other coming in to the parking lot – eventually becoming Charlotte bringing Michael a coffee from his favorite coffee shop in Pillbox Hill (“Black, two sugars”, she thought every time she ordered for him) or Michael bringing her a funnel cake from Vespucci Beach (“with plenty of powdered sugar, enough that I can do one hell of a Tony Montana impression!”, she had joked the first time he had brought her the sugary sweet treat). A few times a week, they'd venture out to get some lunch with one another – sometimes with other production crew members, other times on their own.

When she had stumbled upon a box of old movies while helping her Grandfather clean out the garage, the first person she had thought to call was Michael; They ended up having an old movie night – but after a few drinks, the pair ended up passed out the sofa, the cold light of morning finding Charlotte's back pulled against his chest, a protective arm holding her close. Truth be told, it was the most relaxed, most refreshing sleep he could remember having in recent memory. Hell, most days Amanda was showered, dressed, and engaging in yoga or tennis or whatever the fad of the week was long before Michael could even roll out of bed. Even when they first got married, she refused to lay too close to him when they slept, insisting that he got too hot and sweaty.

“It sounds like it's just a friendship between two co-workers.” a voice echoed, making Michael pause from his spot in the closet, getting dressed and ready for the movie premier that evening, the night that he had spent the last few months working towards.

“Then why can I not shake the feeling that I'm doin' something wrong? That I'm runnin' around behind my wife's back again? I might not know much here, Doc, but I'm pretty sure that thinkin' of a woman like this would count as one of those relapse things you're always goin' on about.”, Michael wondered out loud, expecting the voice on the other end of the speakerphone to confirm his suspicions, to chastise him for once again indulging himself rather than thinking of his family.

“Well, now Micahel”, he heard Dr. Friedlander begin, bracing himself for the good doctor's reaction. “From the sounds of things, you haven't actually done anything yet, have you?”

“Well, no bu-”

“Okay, then I don't see it as a relapse; I see it as a man who likes the attention and adoration that young lady is giving you, rather than the relationship you have with your wife. You've been married for nearly twenty years, of course some of the shine has long since worn off of the relationship with Amanda. Besides, relapse is a vital part of recovery.”

“Wait a minute, I thought you just said you didn't view this as a relap-” “By the way, while I have your attention, your insurance ran out. I don't suppose you could pay cash from now on? The rate for that is slightly higher – cost of cutting out the banks and all of that. We can discuss this more at your next visit, but I'm afraid this is all we have time for today. Be well, and remember, brother, we're all rowing together. Now, cross that ocean.”, Dr. Friedlander spoke quickly, as if rushing to get off of the phone before he were forced into giving actual advice.

With a sigh, Michael hung up the phone call, taking one last look at himself in the mirror. His hairline was a little further back than it was several years ago, stubble on his chin a little grayer, his gut protruding a little more than he was comfortable with. Amanda never hesitated to point out his failings, both physically, financially, and emotionally – but with Charlotte? It was just two people enjoying each other's company, never concerned about appearances.

Was it really so awful of him to want to indulge in those feelings as much as possible?

------------------------------

Charlotte would have been lying to herself is she said that she hadn't grown to enjoy the time that she and Michael were spending together; It was rare to find someone who actually wanted to spend time with her, not just because they figured she could give them easy access to Solomon or on occasion, even her father. Old movies, trips to Vespucci Beach, shooting pool with his buddy Franklin at sketchy bars in Chamberlain Hills, taking drives up to Sandy Shores while simultaneously warning her to avoid Trevor unless she was with him or Franklin (“Probably just me, though. Let's be real, T is a few cocoa crispies short of being Count Chocula, if you catch my drift.”) - They were all such simple activities that her father had said were beneath her social standing as a Weston, but they also satisfied some part of her soul that she hadn't even known was empty.

------------------------------

“We did it! We fucking did it!”, Solomon shouted, arms raised as Michael approached the duo, accompanied by his son, Jimmy. The friendly interaction brought a smile to her face; After months of problem after problem, tantrum after tantrum, the movie was finally here. Lights flashed as the various paparazzi snapped pictures of their favorite celebrities, ready to sell them to whatever magazine wanted to run a 'Hot or Not' fashion column the next morning. “I might be a lecherous old has-been, but I'm a has-been with a premier at the Oriental Theatre on Vinewood Boulevard!”

Everyone was so relaxed, quite the change from the stress-fueled nights that had become commonplace, both during filming and post-production. Nights like this, ones where they all got to dress to the nines and enjoy each other's company were like everyone collectively releasing the breaths they held, while waiting to see if the film would be successful or not.

“Hey! Hope I'm not too late – I wouldn't miss this for the world!”, Devin practically shouted as he hustled towards them. Something about the interaction just felt...off to Charlotte, accentuated by the way Solomon and Michael both tensed up when her father walked up to them. “Hey, what a movie, huh? Meltdown! - Congrats, Mikey, we did it.”

'We?', she thought to herself. Her father hadn't been involved with the production, at least not as far as Charlotte was aware; He had never been to the lot, had never mentioned it beyond asking her how her day was (though she could tell that her father rarely paid attention to what followed that question).

“You – you two know each other?”, she questioned, eyes darting between her father and Michael, two people that she couldn't imagine willingly spending time with one another. Charlotte loved her father, but he was business-oriented and if you didn't fit into that world, you were of little relevance to him. Michael nodded tensely, eyes never leaving Devin, as if waiting for him to strike. “Yes, Mr. De Santa and I have quite the history, don't we? I'll be inside, Charlotte. Come in and find me when you're done.” With a kiss on his daughter's cheek, Devin sent one last smirk in Michael's direction before heading into the theatre. She turned to Michael, prepared to inquire about how the pair knew each other when grabbed her arm, steering them into theatre restrooms, careful to make sure it was empty before speaking.

“What the hell Michael?”, she hissed, shaking her arm free of his grasp. “That couldn't have been anymore awkward if you two had actually tried to make it awkward.”

Michael was pacing the bathroom, looking for the right words to explain his connection to Devin Weston without Charlotte looking at him like he was insane. The last person he had explained any of this to, outside of Franklin, had been Amanda nearly twenty years prior; All she had cared about was if he continued to keep her in nice clothes and fancy cars – Instinct told him that a girl like Charlotte might feel differently.

“Look, you remember I told you I know people?”, he questioned, waiting until Charlotte nodded her head in confirmation before continuing. “It's 'cause back in the day, I did some shit – some real bad shit. I just.....” With a heavy sigh (and a touch of bourbon-induced courage from the sip he had stolen from his flask earlier in the evening), Michael took a deep breath before speaking again. “I got a lot of bad people gunnin' for me – The FIB, The IAA, Merryweather – That's how I know your father, alright? Trevor did somethin' real stupid a while back and we all ended up on their radar.”

Her mouth opened and closed a few times, searching for words that just never came. Part of her wanted to deny it, to smack him on the arm and tell him he was being an asshat before going back in to the party – but another part of her knew, could tell that the story he was telling her was really the truth. A gut feeling had told her that her father's company had been doing some less-than-honorable business and with the way Michael had been warning her away from Trevor, the way the two men frequently talked under the breaths when all three of them spent any time together, she figured there had to have been a reason.

“Look, I done a lot of things that I ain't proud of, okay? I never claimed to be an angel. But if you knew, Charlie.......If you knew about all of it, you'd be runnin' in the opposite direction and never lookin' back. I'm a bad fuckin' guy.”, Michael choked out, the weight of the ten-ton bolder that had wedged itself firmly onto his shoulders shifting ever-so-slightly with his confession. It was a big risk, telling her about that part of himself; Devin Weston was a powerful man, and he knew that, for Charlotte, getting involved with a guy like him would put her squarely in the middle of her father (and subsequently Merryweather's) radar. He wouldn't have blamed her for walking away from whatever this thing between them was. The look of shame was etched into Michael's face – It was as if he had somehow aged twenty years since the conversation had began; Gone was the excited, proud producer and in his place was a weary, road-worn man who had dealt with more than his fair share of struggle in his life.

“Well, I don't....I don't know about that”, she stammered, glancing down at her feet for a moment before dragging her gaze back up to the icy blue gaze that was currently searching her face for any hint as to what she thought of him. “I think....I think maybe you're a good guy that was forced into a bad situation, y'know? And maybe I'm wrong, I don't know. I mean, what could a rich white girl from Vinewood Hills know about struggles and bad situations, right? It's jus- ”

Charlotte's words were cut off abruptly by the forceful (and yet, somehow still gentle) press of Michael's lips against her own. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she could hear something screaming at her that she should stop this, should turn Michael away and send him back to Amanda, should pretend that this never happened, should be doing any one of a hundred different things – but the only thing she found herself actually doing was indulging in the softness of the kiss and the way it made her feel alive.

“Dad! Da-ad, where are you?” Jimmy's voice cut through the air like a hot knife, sending Charlotte and Michael stumbling away from each other, chests heaving as if they had just finished running a marathon. The sound of the De Santa son eagerly shouting about being a producer's son announced his presence shortly before his came tumbling around the corner, eyes immediately lowering into a knowing state, as if it weren't the first time he had caught his father in an awkward position.

“I should, um, yeah, I should go.”, Charlotte spoke softly, trying (and failing) to ignore the way her voice wavered ever so slightly. Her hands smoothed the imaginary-wrinkles out of her gown, suddenly feeling much colder than she had even just a few seconds prior.

A frisson of panic rolled through Michael, every fiber of his being begging him to go after her, to go tell Amanda exactly where she could shove whatever frivolous demands she had this time before going to join the person he really wanted to be with – but instead, he remained glued to the spot, eyes begging Charlotte 's retreating form to understand. 'Just a little bit longer, baby', he thought to himself. 'just stick with me for a little bit longer'

[grumpygayming]

Do the odd questions for Aim and the evens for his twin whose name I forgot

Ok, for Aimilios & Amias

Aimilios

1. Do they prefer to wear headphones or earbuds when listening to music?

As a byproduct of being a dad…ear buds, that way he can share with Theo if need be or easily take them off when Theo needs him.

  3. Do they usually eat mild, medium, or spicy salsa?

Spicy, always spicy unless he’s sharing with Theo in which case it’s mild because the last time he tried to give him spicy food Theo cried for an hour afterwards & Aim felt like the worst dad ever.          

5. How do they react to finding out someone has a crush on them?

 It doesn’t faze him all that much unless the feelings are mutual, in which case he becomes a nervous mess trying not to ruin things between him and the other person, However, they would never find out about it because over the years he’s gotten pretty good at putting his feelings aside and acting as casual & charming as possible around them. He calls it a byproduct of being a performer.           

7. How would they fare in a zombie apocalypse?

Aimilios would kick ass in a Zombie apocalypse. He would be the leader of his own group (probably his dance students, boyfriend, & son) and he would most definitely survive and as long as everyone listened to him they would too.            

9. How much ice do they put in their drinks?

The normal amount?         

11. What’s their desktop background?

He & Theo dancing in his studio on his last birthday, where a few of his co-workers threw a party for him.               

13. Did they have any phases? (e.g. emo, punk, scene…)

Is straight a phase? Cause, if so, yeah he went through attempting to be your average straight guy up until recently, he even joined baseball in high school to try & fit the mold.              

15. Are they the big spoon or the little spoon?

Big spoon most of the time, but he does enjoy being held and being the little spoon at times. But it’s not the norm.            

17. How do they like their toast?

Toasty.                         

19. What are they like as a neighbor?

Not gonna lie, Aim keeps some weird ass hours and if it’s near time for a performance he can be a pain in the as as a neighbor (if you live below him that is) because he’ll get up at three am to go over footwork, he stays quiet thought because he doesn’t want to wake Theo…so that’s a plus. But other than that he’s a great neighbor, he always has a stocked kitchen for Theo’s sake (trying to provide normalcy for his kid in a single parent household, blah, blah) so you can always ask him for a cup of sugar, or eggs, or whatever else. And he’s really friendly despite keeping to himself on account of being dead tired when he gets home after work.              

 21. What’s the weirdest thing you’re likely to find in their room?

His ballet barre

23. Do they like raisins in their pastries? If no, will it stop them from eating it?      

He hates raisins baked into most things and generally he won’t eat it but there are exceptions to the rule. Very few but they exist.

25. Does your muse listen to vinyl records? Do they use iTunes? Do they legally or  illegally download music?            

iTunes or streaming services, he does own a few vinyl records of his father’s but other than that he doesn’t listen to them.

27. Is your muse a dreamer or a realist?            

A little bit of both? When it comes to his personal happiness he’s definitely a dreamer but as far as how he can achieve things on the day to day he’s a realist.

29. What’s their Subway order?              

He will get whatever sounds good at the time since he doesn’t go to Subway all that often and when he does he usually goes for Theo and doesn’t get much of anything for himself.

31. What about themselves do they usually not tell people? What are they embarrassed of?          

His sexuality, even when it comes up, he’s still very used to being closeted  (I mean after a 13 year relationship with a woman and being closeted for 30 years…you’d be iffy about talking to people about it too lol) and he doesn’t quite know how to approach the subject. Even now that he’s in a serious relationship he doesn’t announce to the world that he has a boyfriend because of the personal awkwardness surrounding his sexuality, he does however want to show off his boyfriend all the time so it’s difficult for him.

He’s embarrassed of….nothing really.

33. White, red, or rose wine?           

Boxed? Not for the taste but he’s fond of the memories boxed wine brings, doesn’t matter the kind, just cheap, boxed wine. When he and his brother turned 21 they would drive out to their grandparent’s farm and drink boxed wine in the back of their pick up truck. As they got older and their cousins all turned 21 it became tradition to go to the farm every summer and drink their asses off together.

35. What’s their Starbucks order?             

Venti caramel macchiato, double shot of espresso & a chocolate croissant for Theo.

37. Do they believe in any conspiracy theories? Fear a zombie apocalypse/AI overtake? How do they think the world will end?              

He has no time for any of these, with how busy he is teaching, performing himself, & freelancing choreography on top of raising his son & making time for his boyfriend.

39. What would you see if you looked through their trashcan?            

Sketches, notes from his ex aka the mother of his son, old pens, and wrappers for protein bars.

41. Are they an exhibitionist? Do they ever change in front of windows? Have sex when they know people can see/hear?               

Hahhhh, he would never admit to it but he does like the thrill of other people being able to hear and see him, however, he’s a bit too shy to ever actively pursue having an audience (his brother however…..oh boy).

43. Why do people usually call them on the telephone? To complain? To ask for advice? To ask them to do something for them?               

For work, generally for his professional expertise or to help solve problems. Other than that he usually gets calls from family just to catch up & check in on him.

45. Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter?            

LOTR

47. How do they go about asking someone out or confessing their feelings about someone to them?              

He’s pretty upfront, if he likes someone or wants to go out with them he’ll simply tell them or ask as long as he knows it won’t affect them negatively.

49. In the “sleep vs. grades vs. social life, pick two” situation, which two do they pick?               

Social Life & Grades, he lived that life in high school & college and has gotten quite accustomed to running on minimal sleep.

Amias                

2. What do they do when they’re feeling tired and need to stay awake? 

Drink coffee….or he’ll just sleep and hope that he wakes up in time to finish whatever he needs to get done.            

4. Pizza, McDonalds, or Chinese take-out?  

Chinese.           

6. How do they feel about unrequited love?     

That it’s shitty but a part of life. There’s no point in harping over it because if you move on you’ll have another chance with someone whose actually meant for you later on.                

8. Gold, silver, or copper jewelry? 

Silver.            

10. Do they use Instagram, Facebook, or Tumblr? If so, how much/often?             Facebook almost daily, he’s the annoying guy that post pictures of his kids and leaves comments on all of his family members content.

12. How are they at taking care of plants? 

Pretty decent, he and his brother used to garden with their mother all through out his life. He keeps a small window garden in is kitchen.           

14. How did they do academically in high school?  

Well enough to pass and graduate a semester early so he could tour with his band before they all went to college.                      

16. How do they like their eggs?     

Scrambled.                    

18. Queso or guacamole? 

Guacamole.                        

20. How do they behave when confronted with deadlines?    

He finishes things before the deadline in order to have time to review before having to hand in/present the final product.          

22. What fictional character do they relate to the most?  

 ???                  

24. When forced to do a group project with other people, what role do they usually play?            

Leader, he hates relying on other people.                 

26. How would your muse do at taking care of a goldfish?    

If it’s easier than taking care of twin toddlers and a newborn baby then he’d be amazing.                 

28. Android, iPhone, or other?

iPhone                            

30. Trendsetter, trend follower, or trend ignorer?

Trend ignorer.                      

32. What’s their ideal vacation?  

Before kids it was anywhere he and Bronte could spend days together where they barely left the bed. But now that they’ve got Charlie, Eli, and Jonah it would be anywhere that he can see the three of them bond and get the most of their time together…but of course with activities that keep them away for just long enough for he and Bronte to get up to their own fun.                    

34. Are they outdoorsy? Do they enjoy hiking, camping, etc.?        

Very much so, he and his brother spent plenty of summers camping with their grandpa and on the family farm.                     

36. What colors make up most of their wardrobe?

Black, black, and more black.                           

38. Do they play video games? If so, which ones?  

Anything he can get his hands on but he’s particularly fond of legend of zelda.                       

40. What kind of videos do they get recommended on YouTube?

Music videos, speed art, and art tutorials.                           

42. How do they feel about astrology?

Not too into it but he does read up on it out of boredom sometimes.                     

44. Have they ever had any pregnancy scares?   

He’s a hoe, so yeah…a few with girls he was with but luckily they were only scares.         

46. Do they meme? Enjoy memes? Create memes? Find them horribly annoying? How about shitposts?

Dank memes, shit posting, he’s into it. He might even be a meme economist.     

48. When do they usually go to bed?

He’s the father of twins and a newborn….what is sleep to him?              

50. What do they think is the meaning of life?

To experience as much as you can before death comes for you.              

[jumunkrp-blog]

RESIDENCY DIRECTORY UPDATING...

LOADING RESIDENT INFORMATION:  ❝ — [ SON KILAHN ] is currently 24 YEARS OLD, a HALF BLOOD, and currently is a MEDICAL STUDENT AT YONSEI UNIVERSITY. Please click here for more information on this resident.

ACCESSING DATA...

—  LOADED PERSONALITY:

Pleasant. That was what most people would describe him. There was something clean about Kilahn. From the way he spoke, always with purpose and thoughtful care, his bright smile that flashed sparkly white teeth and his crisp shirts and dress pants. His “doctor” vibe was further amplified with the use of his pristine white robes that were used while he’s still interning at one of the Kim family hospitals. He knew how to please people, Son Kilahn and his way of giving it to them made him seem kind. People always had expectations of him. Even strangers. But his way of giving people what they expected of him only served as a smooth mask. He wore it on the daily and he had gotten so used to it that taking it off was hard. Except around a handful of those he truly cherished. Even his parents and siblings didn’t see his true colors. And with good reason. Kilahn never trusted them enough to.

Certain relationships were kept for the sake of pretenses. He had more acquaintances than friends and strangely enough, he was comfortable with it. He didn’t actively seek out other people’s affections or attention, completely satisfied in his little bubble. This created a sort of barrier between Kilahn and the rest of the world, limiting his experiences and his growth. But he enjoyed himself. Especially with his best friend.

Due to their meeting, he shed his once pitiful self and took the courage to step forward. His hidden courage and drive showed themselves as he made a goal to be a friend worthy to stand beside him, a member of the famous Yoo family. He was persistent, driven and while he wanted to yield back to his old ways and failed many times, he continued to try again. He didn’t give up, no matter how hard and terrifying the change and might have been.

Surprisingly, he grew to be strict with himself and his lifestyle, disciplined, more organized and confident. He no longer walked with his head down and walked with purposeful strides. He smiled more often (thought it wasn’t genuine) and was more friendly. Yet, he remained closed off and secretive. No one really knew what he felt or thought. He was a blank canvas and was very unpredictable. Despite his more pleasant demeanor, he still bears with him this fear that he’ll be hurt. The unknown was scary and Kilahn was a paradox. While unpredictable, he was also a creature of habit.

He still cracked puns, he was still thoughtful, quick tempered and calculative. He still thought that no one was good enough to be his true friend. And he still firmly believed that no one will really get to know him. Not when he purposefully made it hard for people to do so. There was something arrogant with the way he thought most people weren’t fit to be his friend. Something cruel when he put up a facade, even towards those who wanted to know him. Also something quite…manipulative, with how he used information collected through noticing certain things. Or perhaps it was him being observant, paying mind to the details thus reflecting his sensitivity?

One can never know. Son Kilahn didn’t seem like he knew it himself.

—  LOADED BACKGROUND:

Magic is found in the hidden whispers underneath bedsheets, a lamp illuminating their tiny cocoon. It was in the carefully chosen words that could have been magic in itself, to the lively expressions and grand hand gestures, creating a world in a chubby child’s mind. He gasps, laughs and pleads for more. No matter how many stories there is to tell, his curiosity is never quenched. It feels like there is so much more to the world of his aunt’s stories that he is yet to discover. But she hushes him, turns off the flashlight and tucks him in. “It is late, Kilahn,” she whispers again, bidding him goodnight. The stories that had been passed onto her are alive in the little child’s dreams. There is more she can tell him. But those were stories are for when he is older.

Great grandfather was an arithmancer. Not just any arithmancer but an arithmancer for the four magical families left! The Son family are a branch family of the Yoos, and had long been serving them. But as time had passed, their bond had been reduced to nothing. Just as the magic blood in the Yoo family thinned before Kilahn was born. So he feels a bit special and a bit out of place at the same time. The lines of wanting to tell someone and keeping it to himself blur more often than not. Yet the fear of being judged and further being an outcast, overrules the desire. So he keeps to himself, making himself comfortable in his shell.

When Kilahn looks up and he sees an ethereal looking boy with full lips set in an arrogant line, he feels curiosity for the first time. Time passes and he hears rumors. The rumors grew and he listens in past giggles and cooing from the girls. He is of the elite. He is special. Yoo. Yoo Jinseok is his name. Kilahn runs, panting after a few minutes. He follows the voices and the noise because he knows that he will be there. And when he sees, his eyes widen. Watching him then, fully letting himself gaze upon him, he realizes that he is far more than special. In that small, insignificant and one-sided moment of admiration, Son Kilahn is struck with the desire to be friends.

“I can’t be friends with him if I look like this,” he says in front of his sister’s full length mirror. He asks for a camera that year for his birthday that year. Not to start another hobby but to document his process. He takes a picture for the first time in the mirror and from then on, he jogs every day swims when it’s too hot in the summer. His favorite food is cast away in favor of more healthier options. His whole lifestyle changes and so did he. Years pass, and once he had enough confidence, he approaches the prince. And he has never left his side since.

Kilahn’s desire to become a doctor first awakens when his sister becomes sick with a simple flu. He hasn’t taken care of her before that day but their parents were away at work and he is the only one she could count on. Nervous and afraid, he tends to her every need. While he is reluctant at first, he does his best to help her feel better. Through that, they bonded and his world expands for a bit more. It continues to do so once he reaches high school. She becomes his first fan once he decides to pursue jujitsu and compete. The flu never goes away but she comes to his matches. It returns more often than not and it might never go away. Kilahn makes sure to take care of her, but soon his time is divided between sports, his best friend and her. He isn’t aware that his world will soon crumble down after his first gold medal.

“I know you’ve been busy with celebrating your win and we’re sorry to announce it at this time but…we’ve decided to go on our own ways.”

“You’re…divorcing?”

“Yes, and your sister has decided to go with your mother abroad. Who will you go with?”

“B-But… Why… Why can’t you just stay together? Papa, please. You know I’ll go with you. Mama is just…she just cares about money!”

“Kilahn. This has long been decided… Me and your mother… we can’t…”

Before he finishes his sentence, Kilahn runs away to his aunt’s place. In the night that he stays there, he is gifted with a wooden box. It is a family heirloom, he is told, and it has been passed down from his great grandfather. It is the only wand in existence, and one of a kind. His aunt hasn’t dared to yield it but perhaps…perhaps he could. Perhaps Kilahn could reintroduce magic once again in all its color to their family and make them remember. Perhaps the Son family could be great again, and forge a bond again with the Yoos. That’s what his aunt wants. But Kilahn has no intention of using his connection with the Yoo family for his own benefit.

He takes the box with him home and decides that he will stay with his father. He hides it in a box that had his old photographs in them. The next week, he bids goodbye to his little sister, promising to visit her soon and to write often. The next year, he gets accepted to Yonsei University. He is disappointed that he did not get accepted to SNU with Jinseok but he bears with it. “Distance makes the heart grow fonder,” he tells Jinseok with a cheeky grin.The following years, he works hard to pursue medicine. He works hard in order to keep up his grades. Occasionally, his father asks him to pursue sports again. He smiles and tells him that he no longer has any intention to pursue sports.

Now, his goal is to graduate with his degree in medicine while also learning about potions, herbology, spells for healing. He casts a glance at his great grandfather’s box often, wondering if he should use it. But he doesn’t. He isn’t prepared and he hasn’t had any training. Plus, he isn’t the main character of this story. He’s only the supporting character.

[ayyoitsalex]

Chapter 8 - Troop Mothers

Finding hobbies at a young age isn't always easy; You're not quite sure what you're good at or what you suck at. It's a lot of trial and error, and in my experience you keep your hobbies to yourself until you're convinced by someone else that you're good at it. Growing up I tried different sports and extra curricular activities to make friends or get outside, but it was a lot of misses. I tried soccer, two left feet. I tried girl scouts, no patience to go door to door. I tried softball, couldn't hit even if it was a beach ball. My siblings found their calling right away, and low key it was a little frustrating to being the designated fan of the family. Finally I started playing basketball with my dad and took to it like none of my siblings could, but never went out for any team. In my own selfish way I think I just wanted the games to just be about us. It's one on one time I spent with my dad at parks until dark, or until mom would call him to bring me home. And you know how the rest of my relationship with basketball goes. Sam and I are always trying to nudge our guys into getting out there. I don't want them growing up wishing they could've had memories. Though nothing seemed too interesting to them, but none the less they'd try. While I wanted them to have hobbies to make friends I didn't want them to feel like I was forcing them thus it becoming a chore. One afternoon walking through the outlet with Sam and the kids. We weren't there for anything in particular other than walk around and let the kids get some fresh air. There was a park nearby, so after not really buying anything we decided to hit the playground. The boys quickly ran off while Sam and I took Charly to the baby swings. "Not too far okay?" I shouted. They both gave me the thumbs up. I took video of Sam pushing Charly and posted it to my story because why not? Right then AJ ran back tugging on the legs of my jeans. "Mommy mommy!" He said excitedly. "Yes AJ what is it hon?" I knelt down. "C'mere I gotta show you something!" I smiled as he continued to pull me over. "Okay okay what do you wanna show me?" I followed behind him to a group of boy scouts. I started to get the idea. "The boy scouts?" I asked. "Yeah! Some of my friends are over there. Can I join?" His eyes looked at me eagerly. I was just as excited on the inside that he'd shown so much desire for something. Charly and Sam followed. "Baby! AJ wants to join boy scouts." I smiled from ear to ear. "Buddy! That's awesome! Of course let's get you signed up!" Sam gasped. Sam and I found the troop leader who looked like he was a father to one of the other boys. "Hi excuse me?" I tapped his shoulder. "Yes?" He asked turning around to us. "Is it too late to have my son join the scouts like is there scout season? We're not too familiar with..traditions or whatnot." He laughed at my question amused. "No no we take scouts all year round. You're all from around Oceancoast right?" We nodded excitedly. "Yeah my son has classmates in this troop we just found out." "Great great then I'm sure he'll have no problem blending right in with the troop. What about your son ma'am does he also want to join?" Sam tilted her head slightly confused. "..well yeah he's also my son." The troop leader immediately realized his mistake, and both Sam and I were waiting on the next words out of his mouth. "OH! I'm so sorry I didn't realize. I really do apologize I didn't know." He looked sincerely sorry, so we believed him. "No it's okay you couldn't have known. I guess I really should've said our son." He took a sigh of relief that we weren't about to kill him. "Then let's get your son all signed up, we have some forms here to sign and things you'll need  to get before the next meeting. This ones just about finished." "Alright, AJ! C'mere." He raced over to us while Cole waited with Charly by the stroller. Aj walked over from his friends. "This is gonna be your troop leader Mr...we didn't catch your name." "Oh! I'm not the troop LEADER, I just help out the leader. Here. Honey!" He shouted. Whoops I guess we made a mistake too. A woman blew a whistle before jogging over to us. "What's up?" Both Sam and I both began smiling even bigger. "Oh you've gotta be shitting me." Eve motherfuckin' Hunter out here teaching boys life skills. "Well it's been a long time ladies." "Wait..am i missing something?" Her husband looked around at us. "I played high school basketball with these two knuckleheads." "I thought you lived in LA!" Sam exclaimed hugging her tight. "Well we did, but y'know how things go." We all kinda drifted off from each other after Peyton and I graduated. "This is awesome! Our boys can be friends! AJ this is Ms. Eve." "Aha so you wanna join our troop?" AJ nodded a little unsure of what just transpired. "Well firstly, in my troop we are vocal and make our voices heard, so again you wanna join our troop?" "Yes Ms. Eve!" AJ smiled, and saluting for good measure. "Our salutes a little different here buddy." She showed him and he signed back. "This'll be great I can reconnect with you guys again." "Shoot all we need is Peyton and we're all here again." I said. "Wait is Kayla back too?!" Eve gasped. "See maybe social media isn't such a bad thing." Sam smirked showing her an instagram post. "Anyway our meetings pretty much up, and it looks like Dan got you all the forms you need. We normally don't have our meetings here it's usually at the rec center but still on Saturdays. Don't be late!" We nodded before waving bye. Sam and i looked over the forms and the things the scouts would be learning to do, and we both agreed it was a good thing for AJ. We spent the rest of the afternoon driving to get AJ his uniform and other things he'd be needing. "He's gonna have so much fun." Sam said reading through the scout handbook. "I think so too, but there's one thing we gotta talk to him about." "What's that?" "I think we should talk to him about being able to stick with it." "Oh for sure I think that's a good idea. AJ can you come in here please?" He poked his head through our office door. "C'mere baby we gotta talk to you." "Whats up?" He asked sitting down. "So this scouts stuff, we know you're excited. Promise us now you're going to stick with it." Sam said seriously. "I promise!" He put his hand over his heart. "Okay we'll remember this talk. Cause we're excited for you too and think you'll have a lot of fun." "I think so too especially since one of your friends is our troop leader." "Mhmm I'm sure you'll learn a lot from Eve." The next week AJ got dressed for his first meeting, and Sam and I couldn't contain our excitement. He looked so cute in his little navy blue uniform and hat. We went over the handbook since he'd need to know some scout oath before he officially joined. I snapped a picture of Sam with him and sent it to everyone I knew. My sibling group chat immediately responded. "OMG LOOK AT AJ IN HIS LITTLE UNIFORM! Augh my heart!" -Natalie "WOO! You go godson!" -Nathan "IM SOBBING DUDE HES  SO CUTE TELL HIM THAT I LOVE HIM! TELL HIM!" -Elizabeth the always dramatic. We drove over to the rec center, parking by what looked to be Eve. She was unloading a box and greeted us. "Hey guys! Whoa look at this little dude! All ready to be a scout?" She said looking at AJ. "Yes Ms. Eve!" He said proudly. "That's what I like to hear! Now they're all waiting inside you can join your friends and we'll get started in a minute." AJ raced inside eager as ever. "You guys can stay and watch if you want, if not we finish at seven. If you're late picking up your kid more than twice I will not have him back with me." Sam and I were a little taken back by the warning. "Sorry didn't mean to shake you, but I'm just required to say so." We nodded our heads. "We'll be on time to pick him up Eve don't you worry!" Sam saluted the boy scout way. Eve rolled her eyes laughing. "You never did change did you Sam?" "NOPE! ITS WHY THIS ONE LOVES ME!" Sam shouted as we walked back to the car. We had a little bit of separation anxiety for a minute because we didn't leave right away. "Look he'll be fine. This is good for him." "Right..right.." I took a breath. "Okay let's go..It's only two hours." We went back to my parent's house where they were watching Cole and Charly. It felt a little weird just having the two kids with us. Sam and I fed them dinner, and gave Charly a bath to pass the time until pick up. Around six thirty we left my parents to go pick up AJ. I was ready to hear all about it. We arrived a little early so we stood by the door and watched with some of the other parents. Sam and I also took the time to introduce ourselves to some of the other families since we figured we would see a lot of one another in the times ahead. The group of boys sat in front of Eve listening intently as she demonstrated knot tying. Even I took some mental notes. At the close of the meeting they all huddled together before howling goodbye. The boys high fived one another until AJ spotted us. He ran right over smiling big. "Have fun sweetie?" I asked. "Uh huh! I can't wait to come back next week!" "My kind of scout!" Eve smiled walking from behind him. They high fived. I never knew Eve had this kind of touch with kids, but then again I never really knew all that much about Eve to begin with. "How'd our little guy do?" Sam asked. "Oh like a fish in water fit right in." My heart couldn't be more full at the moment. "He did a great job. You wanna show your moms some of the stuff we learned today?" AJ pulled a set of strings from his pack and proceeded to show us the different knots. When he finished we all clapped for him, and I could tell it made him feel good. "Thanks Ms. Eve." "Aha you're welcome. Now be sure to practice and do some of the handbook reading with your parents." They saluted one another before Eve began to walk away. "Alrighty lets get you home so you can have dinner, finish your homework, and get ready for bed."

[vincejonesuniverse]

I was born in 1955. Way back then there were basically 3 types of “kids”: just the regular let’s play hide-an-seek, build a fort, throw rocks, ride bikes, ring doorbells and run, make random calls and ask if “Ben Dover” was home (caller ID ruined that), get muddy, mercurochromed bloody knees and elbows, be home by dinner time kind. Then there were the “weird” kids. Now, this class broke down into the “weird” in an eccentric kinda way which made you kinda cool and then there were the “stay away from little Johnny” kinda weird which wasn’t so good, and everybody had at least one friend who fit the former and knew one of the latter. Today the latter generally hold elective office or work at the DMV.

Finally, there were the “special” kids (special being the term used in polite company). Now, I know a lot about this class, for you see, I’m a member. As a child I struggled to “fit in,” be “just one of the kids” and I lived in terror (strong word but completely accurate) of the “short bus” which transported them to school and home again. My generation pretty much walked to and from school. The only time a parent picked up their child was if they were injured beyond the school nurse’s ability to patch them up or they were sick, projectile vomiting kinda sick or did something REALLY BAD, like invade Poland. So, every day when the short bus would pass me, twice, I would freeze up inside, deathly afraid of being found out. I was seven when I first began considering suicide.

I was adopted at six weeks of age and unbeknownst to my new parents, I was “special” as well as being a sickly child; my heart stopping more than once before I was 9. As a result, my father felt cheated out of the son he envisioned having, and though I supposed he tried, it was abundantly clear he would have traded me in for a different model if given the chance. Mom was Mom. I could have been on death row, guilty as sin, and she would have been there patting me on the arm saying, “its OK honey, the Governor will call since I know in my heart you are a good boy.” But I couldn’t talk her or anyone about what I was feeling and experiencing, hell, I couldn’t even put it into words for myself.

I didn’t know why I was different, but it was clear I was. I would watch the interactions of my playmates, confounded as to the ways they related and responded to each other, and they did it so effortlessly. I’d hang in the background, try to be a part of without really being noticed, especially for the wrong reasons. And I watched a lot of TV looking for clues.

I had a hard time making and keeping eye contact and would often look off to the side when talking to someone. I would say “inappropriate” things (not like bad language or such, well, OK, sometimes, my mind just makes connections which make perfect sense to me, others, not so much) and had no clue as to why they were inappropriate. I would get that hated scrunched up nose narrowed eyed “say what” look and know I had somehow messed up.

In the early 60’s IQ tests were the rage. When the sealed envelopes with the results were handed out in my class, everyone got a white envelope, well almost everyone, mine was manila in color. That day’s walk home was filled with thoughts of suicide and ways to do it because I knew this was it. I left the envelope on the kitchen table (the thought never crossed my mind to disappear it) and waited in my room resigned to my fate. When Mom opened it all it said was the school wanted them to make an appointment to come in for a conference. My Dad was pissed (yep, that is the word he used) because he would have to take off work and was sure I had done something I was covering up. I maintained ignorance, thankful for the reprieve, dreading what I thought I KNEW was coming. The day came and I attended the meeting with the Vice-Principal as well. They were told I was, wait for it, ABNORMALLY intelligent. I don’t know what else was said after that, for I had shut down and blanked out. It was in the car driving home when I came back around to my father saying, “that was a huge waste of time.” I waited for “the” talk I had been dreading, but it never materialized. I went to school the next day as if nothing had happened and it was never brought up again. I really don’t know why they had my parents come in, this was before GATE or programs for gifted students existed, I think they were just as perplexed at what to do with me as I was.

At a very early age I decided the best course of action was to try to “fit in,” so I dedicated myself to mimicry. I would surreptitiously watch you: your facial expressions, the tone of your voice, the words you chose, how others reacted to you and how you reciprocated. And I practiced and practiced. You know how people say they have done something a “thousand” times? From that point (around 7) through High School I spent thousands of hours in front of the bathroom mirror rehearsing the things that came so naturally to you, until it became second nature. I taught myself to “fit in,” to act as if, even though I didn’t understand the underlying why’s.

And life went on. I looked at what generally qualified as “normal” (not surprisingly a lot of that came from TV) and started checking off the boxes. In time my fear of being “found out” diminished, but I was still a little “weird” which was kinda OK in High School. I played sports, got a girlfriend (relationships took my acting to a whole new level, and I still sucked at them), had a small circle of friends and was bored out of my mind. I drove my teachers to distraction by rarely turning in homework but acing tests. My poor mother on numerous occasions had to fight with instructors to pass me. I wouldn’t have graduated High School if not for her. She was 5’1 & ¾" as she would often proudly state and maybe 110 pounds soaking wet. One her favorite momisims was “dynamite and poison come in small packages,” she was a force to be reckoned with.

What really made High School tolerable though were the drugs and alcohol. See, if you were loaded or drunk you were expected to say and do inappropriate things. It would be forgiven with the blanket, “oh, he is just f#%ked up.” Talk about a get out of jail free card. As you can well imagine, drugs and alcohol became constant companions and close personal friends. Time passed and I kept checking off boxes: I got married (poor girl), bought a house, became a father and had the beginnings of a career in business management, because that is what “normal” life looked like, right? Things were good, at least I thought so, right up until they weren’t. My reliance on intoxicants turned on me and I ended up out of control, alone, broke, in dire straits physically and mentally. Then at 30 years of age I sought help and have been free of active addiction since 1985.

When I first I entered the community of recovery I was amazed. They talked about secrets and being “the actor,” of hidden feelings and motivations, lies and destructive behaviors. I felt like I was home at last and I let my guard down a little. Though I am still a part of this community, this feeling lasted only a couple of years until I had to face the truth, though I had much in common, I was still “special” and proceeded to work to “fit in” once again.

You see, I’m Autistic and all that implies. Hyper focus, given to routine, poor socialization skills, difficulty in forming and maintaining relationships, the whole eye contact thing (I have been practicing that for over 55 years and I still get it wrong) and so on. I am “high functioning” with (if you believe the tests) a high IQ. Sounds good, but to me it’s like being the car in the junkyard with the best paint job and good tires. I know, I know, just stop it. You must admit though it is a pretty good line. Shhh…just between you and me, the whole IQ testing thing, today I am pretty sure all it really denotes is someone who takes IQ tests well. Just sayin.

There used to be a thing called Asperger Syndrome, which pretty much described me. It is not a thing anymore though, which kinda sucks cause Asperger sounds like you’re having a burger made from snake and only real men eat snake burgers, I could see John Wayne or Errol Flynn eating a snake burger and liking it (remember, born in 55).

It wasn’t until President Kennedy came to office that the approach to mental health and how we address and work with children who are “special” began to change. In the ensuing decades a new world of resources and understanding has emerged, and had I been born a decade or so later, my life probably would have had a very different trajectory.

There are myriad of ways we can be defined, if we allow it. I am not DISabled; I am just other abled. I see the world through a prism of colors, sounds and textures different than you, not a good thing or a bad thing, it just is what it is. On the upside, having studied people’s expressions (micro and macro), vocal inflections, body language, etc. since I was a small child, I have an uncanny ability for “reading” people and predicting behavior, especially those who suffer from addiction.

Today, maybe it has to do with getting older, but I don’t care anymore about “fitting in,” I want to spend the rest of my days free of the fear-based restrictions I placed on myself and be honest. I met a young man recently who was Autistic, I asked him how he was coping with life and fitting in. You know what he said? “Screw’em. If they don’t like me for who I am, I don’t want them in my life.” I cried.

We all have gifts and talents, are part of the grand fabric of life, the tapestry of colors truly a wonder. All here to teach and be taught, no one without or lacking value. Today I see the world through a new pair of glasses and though the music in my mind is somewhat different from yours, it is all part of the great symphony, every note of value, even those off key for they provide the impetus for change and growth. The key is, and always has been, love, and from love acceptance and respect.

So, if we ever meet in the “real” world, whatever that is, I may say something a little off key or be a little too blunt, but don’t take it personally. Oh, and I am told I can be a little intense so there is that. It is just me, being me, no longer in hiding, and chances are excellent I will probably say something that will make you laugh and though I don’t own a 1949 Buick Roadmaster convertible I am an excellent driver.

[gaiatheorist]

Delusions of good-enough.

Last week’s ‘Jagged Little Pill’-is-bad blog didn’t happen, I’d started retrospectively analysing the lyrics that resonated ‘then’, from a perspective of ‘now’. ‘Jagged Little HRT-patch’ if you will, reflecting that the words haven’t changed, we have, in the 20+ years since the album. (For what it’s worth, I think it’s a good album, there’s still a bit of the flailing-stomping-non-mainstream about me.) 

@samdylanfinch was re-tweeted into my Twitter timeline, and another piece of the jigsaw-that-is-me almost, but not quite fitted into position. (It’s a million piece jigsaw, it’s all sky, I’m trying to complete it in the dark, during a hurricane, and I’m wearing boxing gloves... I’m on a waiting list for therapy.) I’ve accepted for a very long time that I have a tendency to push people away, and always assumed it was a protective mechanism. The faux-bravado, styling myself as a heartless bitch who just doesn’t ‘need’ friends, or relationships is entrenched. I joke about my reverse-Midas touch being why I don’t engage with very many people. I deliberately distance, I deliberately disturb and disgust, to keep most-people at arms length. I don’t ‘get’ people, a lot of ‘me’ was very atypical even before the brain injuries, always-outsider, never quite ‘fitting’, so I just stopped trying after a while. 

I need to watch myself not to go off on the “Am I Frankenstein, or the creature?” slant again, whatever I am, I just ‘am’, potentially some of it can be unpicked and re-learned, some of it I might just have to live with, and work around.

I’m ‘doing it’ now, one of my behaviours, my superiority complex. I read the whole thread, about some damaged-people running from relationships, and I identified heavily with that. Then Little Miss Twist decided to show her hand, and I had a brief, but intense period of “No, I don’t, I’m better than that!” in relation to the ‘pleasing’ element. There is no ‘better’ here, it’s just a shade of different, I don’t approval-seek in the same way as ‘most’ people, and I can be very prickly about the ways some-people do it. That’s unkind, so I try to ‘catch myself’ before I start arguments. You wouldn’t believe how much of my waking hours are spent distracting and deflecting myself from starting arguments about things that happened decades ago. (Seriously, I’ve had one bubbling up for weeks about a family member who didn’t vaccinate her kids against MMR, twenty years ago.) I’m not withholding that argument to avoid upsetting her, I’m sitting on it because there’s no need for it, it would achieve nothing.

The adorable counsellor, who saw me for 16 sessions, when he was only supposed to allocate six, periodically asked me “Are you a bit of a people-pleaser?”, and it made me bristle. I can see his logic now, in light of the Twitter thread, but then, I misconstrued the phrase as ‘door-mat’, and absolutely denied it. I had been a door-mat, for far too long, with the ex, and to some extent with my last job. With the ex, it was path-of-least-resistance, the things he’d tantrum-smash were always mine, it was a preservation-behaviour. With work, I continued to absorb more and more workload, refining systems and processes to make them more effective, thinking I’d matter-more. I was approval-seeking right up until the last minute, making sure everything was as in-order as it could be before I left, because I didn’t want colleagues to think badly of me. That’s my ‘different’ door-mat behaviour I don’t sulk for weeks if nobody notices my new hair-do, and, while I do have intense periods of over-thinking whether I might have upset some-people, I’m not overly-concerned about being ‘liked.’ My people-pleasing is generally trying to help more than I harm, and usually dumping myself at the bottom of the priority-list in the process. 

It’s a learned behaviour, some of it is useful, some of it less-so. My Adverse Childhood Experiences led to me developing some entirely understandable hyper-vigilance and risk-mapping analytical behaviours. In the last mental health assessment, I referred to myself as ‘a machine’, ‘a robot’ and ‘a computer’, and I’m snort-laughing at myself for being ridiculous, I’m a human being, it’s just difficult to articulate the tangential-triage processes of my brain. ‘Over-thinking’ doesn’t even touch on it, I don’t feel safe unless I’ve considered every possible outcome (usually some improbable ones, too) to a decision, which is bizarre, given my tendency to make incredibly unwise decisions when I’m less-lucid. 

That’s the foundation of it, for me, the disordered thinking is rooted in not being safe, so building in these weird coping strategies, to make me feel ‘safer’, more ‘in control.’ Also to ‘please’ people, with my “I’ve already done it.” and “I’ve made it better.” behaviours. Back to being a show-off, and a try-hard, neither of which are particularly admirable behaviours. I don’t want to be ‘pretty’ or ‘feminine’, those signal-danger for me, so I don’t seek vanity-validation, and I do allow myself to become far too annoyed when I see other people doing it. I don’t want to be perceived as weak, or vulnerable, and I scare the shit out of people ‘proving myself’. (There are two text conversations on my phone, my son very gently telling me that if I wait until he’s home from Uni he’ll help me erect my poly-tunnel, and a jokey one from a friend suggesting I might not have thought to secure the cover, in case of high winds ‘because you’re a woman’. The poly-tunnel is up, very well secured, and I ‘beat’ the average time to build it quoted on the reviews. Show-off.) That’s knowing that I am both weak and vulnerable, entrenched by being conditioned-female, never-quite-enough, and then over-layered with 20+ years of the ex, and Father-in-law telling me what I couldn’t-do. I’m never going to be ‘pretty’ or ‘strong’, so I chose to be ‘intelligent’ instead. Then I had a brain haemorrhage, which has significantly impacted on some of my cognitive functioning. 

I have two simultaneous ear-worms, the ‘Daddy never came to my ball games’ at the end of Tim Minchin’s ‘Dark Side’, and snatches of Alanis Morissette’s ‘Perfect.’ My ‘Historical and Complicating Factors’ are rooted in dysfunctional early attachment, over-layered with significant abuse. My parents were profoundly unstable people, both prone to outbursts of violence, there is no ‘safe place’ when you’re never sure which one of them is going to hit you next, but bruises fade in time. The emotional aspects of that, and various other elements of my childhood are more difficult to overcome. There was no trust, ever, the people who were supposed to keep me safe didn’t, and compounded that by continually reminding me that I wasn’t good enough. If I scored 9/10 on a test, Dad would ask me what I’d gotten wrong, rather than congratulate me for trying. Mum would fly into physically abusive rages, and blame-shift that *everything* was my fault. (Yes, I did throw out “I didn’t ASK to be born!” a few times, then I just stopped reacting when she hit me, useless talent number-whatever, both in terms of taking showers of punches without flinching, and being able to split up bar-fights, bruises fade in time.) 

It was predictable, coming from that background, that I’d be vulnerable to further abuse-of-power relationships, the boyfriend-before-the-ex was a very damaged creature, who became physically abusive. The first time he hit me, I accepted the apology and reassurances that it would never happen again, the second time, I broke his nose. The ex wasn’t physically abusive, he was coercive, controlling, and of the opinion that the ring on my finger meant he could put his penis wherever he wanted, whenever he wanted. I had ‘nowhere to go’, so I went into myself, physically present, but not emotionally, for most of the 20 years we were together, I was living a half-life. (Whoa on the blame-shift, there, I’m down-shifting his behaviours against how ‘unkind’ I was in withdrawing my attention and affection, knowing how needy he was.) 

That ‘going into myself’ distancing behaviour is part of the over-arching issue. I ‘know’ that most people don’t intend to harm me, but what’s the point in taking the risk that they might? I don’t engage with people very much, I’m ‘stuck’ as that tiny little girl who wasn’t invited to parties because she wet herself, or that lanky teenager who was too intelligent to be in the gangs of the local kids, and too dirty-poor to be invited to the houses of the kids she was in classes with. Outsider-alien, I never quite grew out of the “I MUST be adopted, I can’t possibly belong here!” phase. It’s probably more than ten years since I realised that it’s not just the ‘not engaging’, I also actively push people away. Not quite as extreme as an abused child deliberately soiling themselves as a distancing tactic, but I can be pretty disgusting at times. It’s a tolerance-test, I say or do some pretty horrendous things to encourage ‘natural attrition’ of people, sometimes I just ‘drop off’, because I don’t have the emotional capacity to respond appropriately. 

At the very bottom of this rabbit-hole, I need to unpick the historical messages that I wasn’t good-enough from the fabric of now. I need to accept that what I have now has to be the foundation for whatever comes next, I can’t change the past, I can only shape my future reactions. I need to ease myself out of burrowing-behaviours, to stop running away from my emotions, and potentially engage-more, cut-off less. There are a very small number of people in my life who are very important to me, I need to rid myself of the notion that I’m too-cling, too-demanding, too-’me’, and accept that people who choose to engage with me do it of their own volition. I’m never going to be Ms Popular, and I don’t want to be, I’ll settle for good-enough. I’m damaged, I’m not broken, I’ll never be perfect, but no-one really is. I need to stop the old behaviour of ‘getting the first punch in’, and pushing people to reject me, it isn’t inevitable that they will. Keeping the whole world at arms length is incredibly draining, the bitch-armour is heavy, I need to learn to accept that I’m not ‘stealing’ attention or affection if it is freely given, that I might just deserve it.    

[sheepydraws]

I'll Kick Your Ass! I'll Kick My Fiancee's Ass! I'll Kick My Own Ass! (9/11)

From: DeanK@nsj

To: All Students

Aloha, everyone!

I know some of you might be thinking that spring semester is a misnomer when the ground is so covered in snow, but I assure you all that before long the snow will melt, the buds will bud and suddenly you’ll all be too warm to think straight, instead of too depressed like y’all are now!

[Lists of activities this semester, including a concert and de-stressers before finals week]

I wish to be transparent with you all when I admit that the case of the illegal duels has gone cold over winter break. If anyone has any information regarding them, please come to my office any time between 4 and 5pm Monday through Friday, or send me an e-mail. I promise that your identity can be kept a secret if you so wish.

On that note, have a cool semester!

Koadchi’s Journal,

Amir Kahn

Senior. Captain of the rythmic gymnastics team.

I sent her an e-mail over winter break,

And she actually replied.

She’s sweet.

But she’s still trying to sell me on gymnastics.

Says we’ll need a captain when she’s gone.

Says I have what it takes.

Says I have perfect form.

Says I have drive.

Says I’m right about how the sopranos should have ended.

Says her mom’s a good cook

Talks and talks and talks

And I all I want to do is listen

She wears oversized red flannel

She fought Ranma for Akane

Everyone wants to know if she likes girls

I want to know if she likes me.

From: NabikiTendo

To: TKuno

YOU CHODE

All those flowery words and you purposely misinterpret things? Katara was supposed to be with Zuko! ‘Too dark’? How about writing a show about a global war where massive destruction and genocide took place? Is that too dark?

Zutara is thematically consistent, but they watered down the ending for people like you who think everything has to fit into neat little boxes.

From: TKuno

To: NabikiTendo

Nabiki Tendo, I would admire your insistence on thematic consistency if you hadn’t begun this debate by declaring that Zuko and Katara would have ‘hotter’ sexual encounters.

I still say that the true beauty in a sexual encounter is how it acts as an extension of the relationship. For some reason many people insist on portraying sex as gritty and dark, but Katara and Aang could likely have fantastic sex because they would have it on crisp bedsheets, in a well lit room, with ample time to enjoy each other.

From: NabikiTendo

To: TKuno

Life isn’t always, ‘crisp bedsheets’ and ‘well lit rooms’, Kuno-babe. Sometimes it’s damp caves or fluorescent lighting. That’s when you want someone with you, and that’s when Zuko would be there for Katara. That’s why Kataang is so unrealistic. If you can only get it up for someone on a bed made with clean sheets can you ever really be there for them?

Facebook Messenger

Akane: Fight Ranma Again

Ryoga: No one wants to see that.

Akane: Fight Ranma Again

Ryoga: Who cares if I fight Ranma? You know, if you want to go out on a date all you had to do was ask ;)

Akane: This is no time for winky faces. Either you fight him or I do.

Ryoga: I think I’d like to see that.

Akane: You wouldn’t. Even when we’re trying to be nice we hurt each other. You don’t want to see what happens when the kid gloves come off.

Ryoga: What’s wrong? What did he do to you?

Akane: He fucked me up, that’s what. He got my emotions so twisted up I want to punch him and patch up his wounds. I want to scream at him and then cry and then scream some more. I want him to feel stupid and scared and angry.

Akane: I want him out of my life. Permanently.

Ryoga: Okay, before you hire a hit man, have you tried to talking to him?

Akane: I don’t want to talk to him. Talking to him made me think I liked him.

Ryoga: Why’d you stop liking him, then?

Akane: I talked to him some more and realized he only cares about himself and what’s best for him and what his dad tells him to do. My feelings don’t matter. He can kiss me and then forget about it. He can make me dream about mysterious men and better versions of him and then trample them.

Akane: Please fight him so I won’t have to.

Facebook Messenger

Ryoga: I want to duel you again.

Ranma: Tonight. Field behind the science building.

Ryoga: Isn’t that a little dangerous?

Ranma: You’re right. We should do it on the basketball court in the gym. Hell, let’s smoke some weed, and have an orgy while we’re at it! We can invite Dean Kuno! He’d have a blast!

Ryoga: What did you do to Akane?

Ranma: Liked her??? I KEEP TRYING TO PROTECT PEOPLE AND THEY KEEP SAYING I’M BEING SELFISH. I’M TRYING SO FUCKING HARD OVER HERE.

Ryoga: You know, there’s a difference between protecting someone for their sake and for yours.

Ranma: Who you ripping off there? Goethe?

Ryoga: I’ll fight you. But first I have to tell my girls I love them.

Ranma: Plural? WAHAHAHAHA. Go ahead, but tell them that when it comes to beating you up we gotta take turns!

From: TexmexTesco@gmail.com

To: Prettyporkchop@gmail.com

Dear Akari,

I’m sorry I lied to you. I’m sorry I ignored you so I could keep chasing other girls and not feel guilty. I’m sorry I held on to you like a safety school. I thought I was doing you a favor, but I was just jerking you around. I was talking to someone today and I realized I wasn’t telling you I’d fallen for someone else because I didn’t want to deal with you. Which is probably why you got as pissed as you did and killed my phone and…all the other things you did.

Also, I’m sorry I thought some mystical connection with another girl made it okay to treat you like shit. I’m not sorry about believing in mystical connections, but I feel a little silly. I mean, you can meet someone and instantly feel good around them. Right away you think they’re cool and you want to know them better, but then you have to get to know them better. Maybe that means you fight about sitcoms, or their exes, but I think that’s a lot more important for the whole falling in love with someone thing than just deciding they’re the most amazing person ever. That’s pretty detrimental to it, actually.

My point is, love can sneak up on you, but break ups shouldn’t. I let you be the last person to know that I was going to dump you, and that was really shitty. Thanks for not letting your pig eat me.

Love,

Ryoga Hibiki.

From: Prettyporkchop@gmail.com

To: TexmexTesco@gmail.com

Thanks.

For finally being honest.

(And not calling the cops on me)

Akari.

—You thought you could make me better/And I hoped it’d turn out right/You know I’d sell my soul to change it/But we’re out of time

Gymnastics Team Group Chat///Jumping Gymnasts

You didn’t hear it from me, but there’s another duel on.

Ranma and that guy he’s fought already.

Kuno?

The other one.

What is wrong with these guys?

I dunno, but I need a kick tonight. I’ll be there.

Me too.

Cap?

Will you be there captain?

It’ll be a club event!

Say you’ll come cap!

Cap!

Cap!

Cap!

Okay, Jesus. I’ll be there. Though, I’ve got to say, I’m a little disappointed all of y’all don’t have better stuff to do.

And what are you doing cap?

Nm. I’ll be there.

Shampoo’s phone——> Ukyo’s phone

Did you hear? Ranma

and Ryoga are fight-

ing tonight.

                                                                        Seriously? Didn’t school just start?

Eight P.M. Behind

the science build-

ing.

                                                                        See you there?

You bring the ice pack

I’ll bring the bandages?

                                                                    Sounds like a plan. I swear, if  Ryoga

                                                                    gets hurt over Akane…

Why? Are you jealous?

                                                                     Jealous? It’s a snowy hill in the dark.

                                                                        I’m worried he’ll break his neck!

So you don’t care who

Ryoga dates?

                                                                        No? I mean, it would suck if he

                                                                        pulled that ‘my girlfriend comes

                                                                        before anyone else’ thing on us.

That’s such bullshit.

What would you think

if someone put you

before everyone else?

                                                                         I think you should be checking

                                                                         our first aid kit, not making

                                                                         up riddles.

The Daily Times Post              All the news we can report                  February 1st

                                     THE WEIRD AND WILD

Cologne Clueless

A man at a nearby law firm is currently engaged in a large legal battle over what he deems to be wrongful termination. Another employee reported him for consistently coming to work reeking of marijuana. He claims that what his colleague mistook for smoke was actually the scent of his very expensive cologne. He is expected to bring several bottles to court, but he’s not sure how he will light up in the court room…For comparison purposes, of course.

Deuling Downfall

It’s been a while since we’ve had any impressive catastrophes from our local adolescent angst farm, Nancy Sullivan Junior, but recently four freshmen were taken to the hospital en masse due to an incident involving an illegal duel preformed on slippery terrain behind one of their science buildings. What was the fight over? Only the most time honored instigator of fights there is—the hand of a beautiful young lady.

Mixtape Mixup

Local club XS was dead silent this Friday night, except for the sound of Cotten-Eyed Joe, a song which had accidentally slipped into the dj’s playlist and left it’s audience cold, as well as momentarily motionless.

MY DIARY

Once, when I was a younger man, my father took me to a production of Macbeth at NSJ. It was small and low budget but well done, by which I mean that the witches' scenes were phenomenal. They were unearthly, cackling shrilly as their bodies contorted into painful postures. They rooted me to my seat, partly out of appreciation for their performance, and partly because I was worried if I drew too much attention to myself they would leap upon me and tear the meat from my bones.

I thought that once the witches departed from their final scene there would be no more magic for the evening. Then Macduff’s wife appeared, laughing gaily and playing with her son. I recognized in her gait and the cut of her chin the woman who had only a few scenes before been a bent and haggard witch.

It is truly something to see a witch shed her skin to reveal the woman underneath. A woman of kindness and civility, and then dire vulnerability as Macbeth’s men sent her to her grave. It is a magic all it’s own.

No no no, this simply will not do.

There is something I must admit to you, gentle reader, with no further ado, allusions, or passionate ramblings.

I kissed Nabiki Tendo.

Akane’s Diary

I don’t know how this happened.

That’s not true, I know I know it, but the pieces won’t come together in my mind. It still feels like things shouldn’t have gone this way. Like I��m living in that totally blown out of proportion worst case scenario that you think of for a a second before shaking yourself and saying it could never happen.

Ranma isn’t very big is he? It isn’t the hospital bed being huge and playing tricks on me, he’s never been that tall or wide. Hell, I’m taller than him. Still, when he’s up and angry he can add five inches just by standing right and staring down at you. Asleep and covered in bruises he looks like half the man he usually is.

I don’t know why I sent Ryoga that message. I’m not sure if I don’t want to be engaged to Ranma because I hate him, or if I don’t want to be engaged to him so I can do things that might lead to us being engaged. I fell back on Ryoga, and now he, Ranma, Kodachi, and Ukyo are in the hospital. And the only one who deserves to be here is me.

Nabiki is here too. She’s pacing like she wishes she wasn’t, and I’m writing because it feels wrong to be dicking around on my phone or doing anything other than explaining how this is all my fault. Genma was called, and we called dad so he knew. We also told him Ranma might be expelled, since we aren’t sure if anyone has told Genma that. I wonder if it’ll happen before Ranma even gets out of the hospital. Dean Kuno is here to be with his daughter, and I can’t tell if that counts toward Ranma’s time being officially enrolled or against it.

Nabiki says she’s going to find the cafeteria, although I think she just wants to stretch her legs. Good. I want to be alone.

I should write this out so I don’t forget it. This is going to be on me forever, so I should at least have the details straight.

I almost thought this fight was going to be cool. Ranma posted something about it on face book and tons of people showed up. More than I think have been there for any other fight. It was kind of cinematic, all the dark people milling around under crystal clear moonlight, glittering on the snow.

Ranma and Ryoga circled each other for a few minutes, feeling out the terrain more than each other. The snow was thick but powdery, and I felt safe that there wouldn’t be too much slipping. Some people were smoking, and the acrid scent made everything feel sharp.

Ryoga made the first move. He flew at Ranma so fast I was shocked. Even Ranma was caught a little off guard. He dodged though, and spun to make an attack. Snow flew up and caught the light. For a second, this seemed like a good idea.

Ryoga took some of the kick, but managed to turn so a lot of the force bounced off of him. He tried to grab Ranma’s leg, which was a mistake. Ranma punched him and Ryoga recoiled. Ranma went in for another strike, Ryoga jumped back. Then he went to the left, which I thought was a little weird, because he lined himself up for a hit. He ducked left again and I saw that he was leading Ranma to the edge of the slope that rolls toward the science building. I started to worry. With the help of some slippery snow Ryoga could launch Ranma off the edge of the plateau we were on.

Ranma didn’t notice. All he wanted to do was hit Ryoga as hard and as fast as he could. Ryoga was taking blow after blow, but he kept leaning left, and Ranma kept following him.

Then Ranma did a spinning kick. After all the punches he’d been throwing Ryoga was caught off guard. Ranma’s knee slammed into his stomach so hard everyone winced. He fell to his knees.

“Time!” Ukyo screamed. She broke out of the crowd and ran into the part of the ground that had become the ring. She planted herself in front of Ryoga, who was still shuddering on his hands and knees. He looked like he was going to throw up.

“What are you doing?!” Ranma yelled at her.

Ukyo didn’t flinch. She leaned into Ranma and said, “I’m keeping you idiots from hurting each other.”

“You want to fight me?” Ranma was fuming. He would have grappled with a hungry rottweiler if we’d thrown one at him.

“This isn’t how we’re supposed to solve problems anymore.” Ukyo said. “We don’t throw down behind the science building, or in the parking lot off the basket ball court.”

“This is the only way to solve problems.” Ranma spat. “I’m sick of trying so hard to fuck with people’s feelings. All that happens is that we still hate each other, we just pretend we don’t and try to be nice or whatever the fuck, and we sit on all this anger and hate and we smile and want to kill each other.” For a second something flickered over Ranma’s face that wasn’t rage, but it was gone too fast to say what it was. “I can’t do that. I’ve got to be honest. You want Ryoga to tap out, fine. But you’ve got to take his—“

Ukyo kicked him across the face. I don’t know if Ukyo does martial arts, but she’s definitely kept up on her flexibility exercises. The bruise along Ranma’s left temple is a purple negative of the bottom edge of her boot.

Once Ukyo got on the offensive, she stayed there. For a minute I thought she had Ranma cornered. Only he wasn’t shaken. He was plotting how to trip her up. He sent her to the ground and jumped on top of her.

I could see that purple haired girl I talked to once helping Ryoga up. He was a little too heavy for her, as unsteady as he was on his feet, and she motioned to a group of admirably muscly girls for help. One of them was Kodachi, wearing a flannel shirt that fit her so weirdly I’m pretty sure it belonged to the taller girl standing next to her. I don’t know why seeing Kodachi made me spring into action but it did. She reminded me that we were all going to have to explain the bruises, and possible bloodstains on the snow tomorrow. I ran to the other side of the ring and threw myself onto Ranma’s back. He screamed, but between Ukyo and I we managed to grab enough of his limbs to keep him still.

He wouldn’t stop screaming, though. Kodachi appeared at my side and started grabbing at us. I don’t know if she was trying to free Ranma or help restrain him, but when he lurched sideways she was knocked over, crashing into Shampoo and Ryoga—who had been walking towards us for some reason, even though the part of the ring we were in was nearer to the science building than the dorms.

It was also closer to the edge of the hill, and that collision sent us sliding down. At first we were just slipping, but when we struggled to pull ourselves up we gained speed, and soon we were shooting down the hill.

Stupid fucking north-east school with rolling hills.

We crashed into a tree stump. At least, the clump with me, Kodachi, Ranma, and Ukyo did. Shampoo and Ryoga went farther before they hit a tree. I think I was unconscious for a minute, crushed between Kodachi and Ranma.

Maybe longer? I remember crashing and then campus security showing up. I’m not sure how much time passed between that. Then there were ambulances because Ryoga and Ukyo were out cold and Ranma had a huge, jagged cut on his arm. Also, I heard the only thing Kodachi was wearing was that flannel shirt, and she took a few bumps to the head, so they put her in an ambulance too.

Nabiki’s back. The cafeteria has cream horns??? She got me one. She’s really flustered. She got lost a lot on the way.

It’s pretty good. The cream horn. I feel kind of sick, but also like I should eat. I guess there isn’t much we can do right now. I want to track down Dean Kuno and confess that this is all my fault, but I think he should have some time with his daughter first. Also, if I talked to him right now he’d probably want to kill me rather than expel me.

Is it bad if I’m tempted to let him?

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Fuuuuuuuuuuukkkk………Whyyyyy….

He was so freaked out. Pale and somehow tiny in his huge, puffy coat. Then he took it off and his sweater was too big, his sleeves covering his hands, and I started at him like I’d never seen a human male before. He looked like he was going to cry. His sis is okay, but he kept asking me stuff like, ‘What was she thinking?’, ‘I heard she wants to quit gymnastics. From someone else!’, ‘Should I have seen this coming?’.

Tatewaki Kuno. Taking responsibility. For something that wasn’t even his fault.

His hair was standing on end cause he kept fucking with it. It’s so thick.

I mean, I was worried about Ranma, but I knew it was his own damn fault. I didn’t feel like I didn’t even know him anymore. Kuno was on meltdown mode.

I just wanted to calm him down. I went to shake his shoulders, I was going to slap him like a hysterical woman. I’ve always wanted to do that…

But then I was holding him by the shoulders and looking into his eyes and whispering stuff? And then I was holding his face, and then I was kissing him. It was supposed to be short.

It was long. And slow. I could feel my heartbeat, but it wasn’t scary like when you’re full of adrenaline. It was like awareness spread out from my chest and I could feel every inch of my body. And every inch of his.

Then we stopped kissing and just breathed for a long time.

Too long. I had to get to the cafeteria. I asked Kuno if he knew where the cafeteria was and then I ran away. Like a coward.

[toolsforthejourney-blog]

Belonging: Orphans and Widows

September 2017

BELONGING: ORPHANS AND WIDOWS

 To my family, friends, fans and seekers…

 I would like to write about orphans and widows, loss, abandonment and belonging…

                          James 1:27a.

Pure and undefiled religion before God and the Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their trouble…

 I used to believe that the half-brother of Jesus, equated “pure and undefiled religion” with taking care of widows and orphans because to do so requires selflessness; actions which receive little notice or praise. While that is true, I have learned during a tough season in my own life how widows and orphans feel on the inside. Widows and orphans long to belong.

 At some point in our lives, we will all feel the sting of rejection by someone who matters. While I hope and pray that you might be spared (one of the lucky ones) it’s likely going to happen. A widow(er) is not voluntarily abandoned, but abandoned through the death of their spouse nonetheless. This is a hard reality in life here on planet earth. Orphans are usually wards of the state because their family is incarcerated, institutionalized, deemed unfit for parenting, or dead. Even though there is a different set of circumstances for orphans, the results are the same.

 So what do widows, widowers and orphans feel?

 For starters, widows and orphans feel alone.

 Having someone with you at all times is, for a married person, their constancy. Even if their relationship isn’t perfect (and none are), there is still the daily-ness of their husband or wife, and then, in the blink of an eye, nothing. The silence is deafening, the emptiness of not having that special someone to share life with, crushing. All their friends and family knew them as a couple, as Mr. and Mrs.… After the passing of one of them, the people they know, even close family members, don’t know how to reach out to them. They always used to be a couple in the context of their marriage, and now they are single. All the activities they would participate in were for couples, and with the death of one of them, they no longer fit the paradigm; they no longer belong. When they are included as an individual in couple’s kinds of activities, they feel like an outsider and the absence of their spouse is only accentuated.

 Even late in life, when a couple expects the passing of one or the other, it’s the lack of that person and the permanency of their absence that weighs them down. Some folks have feelings of regret: that they could have been kinder and done more in the living years, but once their partner is gone it’s all too late to make amends.

 The following are the lyrics that capture the heart of a widower, a song by Kasey Chambers, entitled, ‘Paper Aeroplane’ –

"Paper Aeroplane"

I'm just an old man

My hair is thinning

My head is spinning

I cry myself to sleep at night

And lordy, lordy

Though no one hears me

I know you're near me

You will always be my wife

 And some days make me

Feel weak and shaky

Some fly right right by me

Like a paper aeroplane

And I hardly notice

That the world's gone crazy

But nothings clearer

Than the way you said my name

 And I should've let go by now

Yeah I should've let go by now

But I kept your brownies

And your golden honey

And I smell your flowers

And I saved your money

And I hold your blanket

Close for hours

And I paint my heart blue

But I did it all for you.

 Orphans have a different set of circumstances, but the same feelings. They ask themselves one simple question, “What’s wrong with me? - or - What did I do to deserve being alone?” All of their friends are part of a family, even if it’s a single-parent broken family, it’s still someone who cares for them and is there for them; they belong. When they look around at school, or on their ball team, at church, or in their neighborhood, they see kids who are the sons and daughters of someone, but not them; they belong to no one.

 An orphan gets hit double, because not only are they without someone to care for them, they also carry the burden of rejection. They are rejected by the absence of parents, family, belonging, love and kindness, and in most cases financial stability. An orphan assumes that they are to blame for being alone.

 When you are in a healthy family there is always someone to pick you up when you fall. Solomon put it this way –

 Ecclesiastes 4:10-12        

For if they fall, one will lift up his companion.

But woe to him who is alone when he falls,

For he has no one to help him up.

11 Again, if two lie down together, they will keep warm;

But how can one be warm alone?

12 Though one may be overpowered by another, two can withstand him.

And a threefold cord is not quickly broken.

 For example, if you cut your finger on a broken bottle, the people you live with would help you dress the wound and get a Band-Aid on the cut to stem the bleeding. Or if you find yourself with a cold, or worse, the flu, your family will go to the store for you and pick up some medicine to help you feel better. Or if you wake in the middle of the night with a nightmare, someone is there to hold you, comfort you and reassure you that it was just a bad dream. But for the widow and orphan, there is no one to do these things for them. Their life is lonely; desolate. Orphaned by death, a foundling may long for the days when she had someone there. The finality of their death, and the loss of their Mommy or Daddy (or both) is constant. 

It brings with it despair.

 Like it says in verse 10 above, “…woe to him who is alone when [s]he falls…”.

 This is where compassion enters the scene and changes someone’s circumstances, and even their identity. I pray for all of us, that compassion and mercy would bubble up on the inside of everyone, and move us to visit with the widow on your street, or include that little boy or girl who you know has no family.

 At the writing of this essay, I have an 90-year-old widow that I care for. We live on the ranch with her. I do little things for her. I buy her a muffin once a week, so that now she jokes that I am the Muffin Man, like the one that lives on Drury lane in the children’s song.

 Do you know the muffin man, the muffin man, the muffin man?

Do you know the muffin man that lives on Drury lane?

 She has her sons and daughters to take care of her, but she has me, too! We are just upstairs from her and a phone call away. No one asked me to do this for her, I simply saw the need, and I stepped up with compassion and love for this woman in the twilight of her life.  

 There are currently more than 500,000 orphans living in America. This number includes those in temporary care. 120,000 live “in the system” and have no one, not even foster parents. The situation worsens for those over the age of 10, for the chance of them being fostered or adopted decreases exponentially as they age.

 According to the U.S. census bureau (1999 statistics), 800,000 people are widowed every year, and the total number living in America without their spouse is 13.6 million. That’s a BIG number!

13,600,000

 Only 38% of all widows and widowers are taken into the homes of their children. That is a sad commentary on the self-centeredness of Americans today. This is what Jesus Himself said about our parents –

 Matthew 19:19

“Honor your father and your mother,’ and, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ 

 We often think of the second part of this verse as the ‘Golden Rule,’ where we strive to follow the Golden Rule to show Christian charity, but I would ask, how many widows and orphans do we stop for? They are all around us.

 In the name of Jesus, please, practice religion that is pure and undefiled. Visit widows and widowers. Include orphans in your children’s activities. Even better: adopt one if you are able. End their loneliness and abandonment; give them the chance to belong. We must be the Hands of Jesus and wrap our arms around one of these precious people. This is the Father’s heart toward us.

 Matthew 25:40

And the King will answer and say to them, “Assuredly, I say to you, inasmuch as you did it to one of the least of these My brethren, you did it to Me.”

 He affirms our adoption as sons and daughters –

 2 Corinthians 6:18  

“I will be a Father to you,

And you shall be My sons and daughters,

Says the LORD Almighty.”

 Father-God is the Spouse of every widow and the Father of every orphan. But we are the ones that carry this out: love and belonging. We put an end to their loneliness and their abandonment when we see them, and include them in our lives.  

 As always, you can respond to these words at calcio.christopher@gmail.com

 Remember in everything, Father will have the final say.

 Keep it out of the box,

 Innocente